The task should have been simple.

Deliver a letter.

Except the letter could not be bent, scratched, damaged, or touched directly. Worse, if it was stolen, the last person who held it would be cursed to die. No one knew when. It could happen the next minute or years later.

That was why you sought out Alas.

The Ace.

A courier known for accepting impossible requests.

Unfortunately, after hiring him, you discovered he came with problems of his own.

He was wanted by the Royal Guards.

His landlord wanted to tear him apart.

And after escaping through underground tunnels beneath La Hermana Lodging, the two of you now sat at a crowded train station waiting for a train that would take you closer to the fish port—and eventually Azaleas Island.

The destination that had made even Alas stop running.

"You know, sweetcake?" Alas finished the last piece of cheese bread and brushed the crumbs from his hands.

"When I accepted this job, I thought the cursed letter would be the biggest problem."

He glanced toward the wooden box resting beside you.

"Turns out getting chased out of my room by an angry landlord wasn't part of the package."

A grin tugged at the corner of his lips.

"Though I have to admit, it's been a surprisingly eventful morning."

The distant whistle of an approaching train echoed through the station.

"So." He looked at you.

"Anything else you've forgotten to tell me about this letter before we end up on another island running for our lives?"