《Once Upon a Time in Old An Lar》


 Two Days Before the Winter Solstice

    Chapter 1


    We tell tales of the early years, after the world was changed. The tales can never capture what those days were like. Large swaths of the landscape were scarred by high magic weapons. Parts of the world had been sealed off, to keep their inhabitants at arms from reaching each other. It was a leaky construction. We stayed busy finding them, arming against them if necessary.


    It was hard going in those days because of the chaos. The Dragonkin had not yet come to our land, and our movements were slow and hard. We walked, we rode, a few of us flew. We gathered up the orphaned, the bereft, the injured, and gave them sanctuary.


    Two sanctuaries were of important note ¨C one on the large island to the east of the Inland sea. It had a range of white capped mountains, so of course we called it the White Island. This is where we set up our schools. There was another island, smaller but closer to land, where wild apple trees grew. It became an administrative center, where we guarded against the remnants of the warring factions. This was called Ynys Afel.


    This is the beginning of the White Circle. Orphans, the broken, brought together to save and rebuild. Later, it was there to protect.


    - History of the White Circle


    They called her Oldest.


    Like most of the High Sidhe, the woman sitting at her desk did not look frail, the way humans get with time. Perhaps the pale hair on her head was slightly more silver than gold. Her hand, moving a pen across a piece of paper, moved purposefully and with no tremor. Pausing for a moment, she looked up from her work, and out of the window. The eyes, a brilliant blue, stared out at the garden beyond her, an autumn garden, filled with brown branches and faded leaves.


    ¡°It matches me,¡± she murmured. ¡°Long past spring and on the edge of winter.¡±


    She was indeed very old and only a few were left who remembered the world of her youth, her springtime, and even fewer remembered her true name. She found it almost alien to say it any more. It was the name of someone not her these days. Sometimes, though, it came to her in dreams of a time long ago, when the Aos S¨ª were new to the land of An Lar, when the queen Anu Mor still reigned and her mother Fand and her aunt Aife still were dear to each other and the Sundering had not yet happened. Those were sweet days,¡± she muttered. ¡°Long before I knew anything about the weight of time and loss, or how carefully everything needs guarding if it¡¯s worth cherishing.¡±


    The Oldest sighed, and put down her pen. ¡°Now is not the time to get lost in longing for what was or what could have been.¡± She pushed her chair back, and stood up, walking towards the window, where she rested her hand lightly on the windowsill, and watched a small bird scurry among the dead undergrowth. Finding a nut on the ground, the bird hurriedly picked it up in its beak and flew off. ¡°Working with what is at hand, yes. Thank you for the reminder.¡±


    Turning her back to the window, the Oldest looked around the room she was in. It was simply furnished, the walls paneled in a light wood. There was a fireplace in one corner, a bookshelf, several chairs, her desk and a small table.


    ¡°Like me, worn down to basics,¡± she said. ¡°Still, this. This is my place, not once upon a time. I am here, now, and here is where I am needed.¡±


    She went back to her desk and looked back down at the stack of papers wanting her attention. ¡°Why the past happened the way it did is a mystery I will never solve. But today has enough mysteries of its own. Like why are these scholars disappearing? Why the new activity at the border? I bet Bedwyr is chasing that one, too.¡±


    As she watched, snowflakes began to fall. She watched one in particular, dancing in the light breeze, coming to land on a large ornamental stone in the garden. It was soon joined by another, and another. ¡°It won¡¯t be long before we have our talk. How much will he try to hide this time?¡±


    There was a knock on the door.


    ¡°Oldest?¡± a soft, male voice said, and then the door opened.


    ¡°Ah, Ethne,¡± she said as the Sidhe man entered. She gave him a small, wistful smile.


    Ethne was a thin, slight man for one of the Sidhe, with long brown hair pulled back into a neat braid, framing his delicately pointed ears, a trait that all the Daoine Si shared, and, and like the Oldest, with brilliant blue eyes. In his hands he carried a tray with tea and small cakes. Moving gracefully to the small table near the desk, he placed it down and looked at the Oldest.


    ¡°I thought you might like some tea,¡± he said. His voice was carefully neutral, but the way he carried himself as he poured a cup of tea and handed it to her made it clear that he felt the need to check on her. ¡°And I brought you some of Aine¡¯s cakes. It¡¯s been a while since your last meal.¡±


    She accepted the tea from him, took a sip, letting the pleasant bitterness warm her mouth. ¡°Thank you, Ethne. You always know just the right moments to start hovering.¡±


    ¡°Hovering? Me?¡± he asked, shrugging. He handed her the plate of cakes and watched to make sure she took one. ¡°Well, it is that season. The reports are in for the year, the halls are empty of both students and members as all have hurried home to be with their families. It¡¯s starting to snow. And you have all the time in the world to think about things that worry you. It happens every year.¡±


    ¡°You know me too well, Ethne.¡± She took a bite of the cake. It was rich with cinnamon.


    ¡°You always fret about what the Birch is up to, and how it will impact the White Circle. Will he drag you this way or that? Will he or someone else stir up Aife or Lady Bercha and bring back the Strife? Will Ynys Afel anger the Dragonkin or stir up anger in the Aos Darion? Are the smugglers going to smuggle something into the Shadow Lands that will send the Wild Hunt over the Border Wall? Will the Dogheads finally manage to take down Greshold¡¯s Keep and stream into the friendly arms of Jared Redbeard and the Bullrush clan?¡±


    The Oldest gave her companion a small, wry smile, which she quickly hid behind a sip from her teacup.


    ¡°Bedwyr and I are on the same side,¡± she said, putting her cup down. ¡°Don¡¯t forget it. No doubt he¡¯s pondering many of the same things. We...we just have different ways to deal with these things.¡± She took another bite of the small cake.


    ¡°No doubt,¡± Ethne said. ¡°The ways of Ynys Afel and the White Island, two hands of the same soul. But I am glad I don¡¯t have to deal with Birch while he broods.¡±


    ¡°I do not brood,¡± the Oldest said. She took another sip of tea.


    Once again Ethne just shrugged.


    <hr>


    The Oldest was not the only person brooding that afternoon. In a room to the south of the White Isle room where the Oldest did her work, another Daoine Sidhe person sat at another desk. This one was a male, tall with short dark hair and cloudy blue eyes. He cut the seal on a letter that had been placed on his desk, glanced at the signature and gave a deep sigh.


    ¡°Gweir Blackthorn, Consort of the Lady Elaine of Allynswood, Royal cousin fifth class, Captain third rank of the King¡¯s Guard and currently Post Officer of Greshold¡¯s Keep, first and most important of the Great Gates between An Lar and the Shadow Lands,¡± Gweir said, looking through his office window, a view filled with tower tops and crenalated walls as the sun began its lowering. ¡°What a mouthful for being stuck in this rat¡¯s nest and being expected to keep everything and everybody in order, the threat blocked from the Dark Queen or any of the other bastards there, the smugglers caught and the trade flowing.¡±


    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    His tone of his voice was somewhere between bitter and resigned. ¡°Maybe I could if Gwalch would ever give the the tools to do the job right. Never enough men, never enough from the Magic Corps, never enough of anything but complaints from the Dragonkin. Court politics. Bah. So why do I keep doing it?¡± He looked beyond the fortress walls to the small town huddling behind the fortifications on the An Lar side of the barrier. People mulled about. Up here it was hard to tell what they were. Most he knew were Aos Darion, Bauchan mostly, shorter than the tall and graceful Aos Daoine, with brown hair and dark eyes and large pointed ears ¨C the lesser Aos Si, who were the backbone of the land. Many had come here hoping to make a better life, far from their home villages, a merchants, craftsmen, people who ran services for the men in the fort ¨C barkeepers, tailors, women to entertain. Some of them were soldier¡¯s families, although that was frowned on. Other races mingled with them, including a small handful of Shadow Lands people who could tolerate the brighter sun of An Lar. It took special permission to reside there for this group of merchants and their families. They were regulated very carefully.


    He stood up and walked to the window and frowned at what he saw.From here he could see the edge of the town, the graceful shrine to the Lifegiver, and beyond that, an ugly squat building, larger than almost anything here besides the hold - the Bullrush compound. This area was under control of the Bullrush clan, and they made sure to take a cut of anything that got past the guard. The thought of Jared Redbeard, heavy, greedy and ostentatious, cruel and always hungry for more, the leader of the Bullrushes made his gorge rise.


    ¡°How many smugglers did you slip over the wall today, Redbeard?¡± he asked.


    The sun was growing low, which meant his day was really just beginning. He turned and stared at the mountains to the south. They were massive, but isolated. There was still snow on the highest peaks, but even from here they gave off a dark, threatening vibration, which was only right, considering what they housed, the road to a land peopled with the night dwellers, people of nightmares ¨C trolls, ogres, all those who needed the shadows, whether they were evil or not.


    He had been told it was a twilit land beyond the mountains, where the darkness never fully left even at high noon, but he had no urge to travel there to find out himself. Some people did, invited by one of the rulers of that realm, the Dark Queen of Meresham, or King Bloodaxe, the High Lady Bercha. This was rare ¨C the children of the dark Queen Aife stayed mostly to themselves, but trade happened, even after all the misery of the Strife. They did, upon occasion, send ambassadors to the Court, for limited purposes and short times, and the Court reciprocated. There was no permanent embassy. Wreathed in shadow like it was, their world wasn¡¯t a good home for the Aos Daoine, and the Sunlit lands was a hard place for them. Didn¡¯t keep them from trying to take as much from the Aos Daoine as possible though.


    ¡°Blood feuds never end,¡± he said, looking at the land between the mountain and his keep. Once, according the the old tales, this was a lush land, filled with trees and sweet waters. And then the Sundering happened, and the Strife that followed it, and year after year, battles with great magics destroyed the very fertility of the land. Now it was a place of gray and black and red basalts. Most of the waters had dried up, disappearing with the trees, fit for nothing but a handful of shepherds, eking a hard life out of the land, and the endless bands of smugglers, dealers in ruin, people running from justice.


    ¡°Why don¡¯t I leave?¡± He thought of his wife Elaine and the son he was not seeing grow up as he looked down of the piece of paper in his hand. He was often cynical about being on border guard, but it was always worse when she wrote him. The world she painted was such a different place than this one, full of light, joy, peace, small matter that didn¡¯t really seem that important when you faced the bleakness, the real chance of death.


    ¡°Dearest Gweir,


    Thank you for your last letter. You cannot imagine how much I miss you, dear husband. I know you don¡¯t like to tell me much about what is happening at the Borderlands, but be aware my thoughts hover near you all the day.


    Your son is growing like a weed. I have sent to Master Rhys to start his schooling there, as we agreed. My sister Arriane is coming for a long visit next month. It¡¯s hard to believe that Mother let her go for that long, but I hope to make it a good experience for her, now that¡¯s she¡¯s finished her schooling. Remember those days, caught between being a child and starting your adult role? I don¡¯t know about you, but I was so frightened by all the possibilities, but now look at where I am! Please, if you get any chance at a leave, please consider coming home for a few days if possible.


    I miss you more than you can ever imagine. Stay safe, my beloved and come back home to me.


    All my love,


    Elaine


    Gweir thought briefly of his wife¡¯s estate, of the villagers that made sure things ran smooth, of the face of the steward, Elaine¡¯s nanny, of the son he was not getting to see grow up, all the precious things he was trying to preserve in this dark place, that he knew he wouldn¡¯t say anything about when he returned home, to keep them warm and free from the nastiness it took to keep them safe. ¡°For you, Elaine, and Tam, and everything we really love, that¡¯s why I¡¯m here.¡±


    He carefully folded the letter and put it in his pocket. Some days, as much as it hurt to be reminded of what he was giving up, his wife¡¯s notes were his only anchor. A gong sounded, bringing him back to the present. It was time to get down to business.


    <hr>


    Far to the south and east of both the Oldest in her room on the White Isle where winter was about to make its presence known or Greshold¡¯s Keep where the first tendrils of the change of the season were making its way across the blighted landscape there was another land, a large island, bigger even than the White Isle where the midwinter was always warm and dry. This was the land called Sunderland.


    A different sort of people lived in this land. Neither Aos Daoine or Aos Darion, these were the Children of Gandaran, Dragonkin who made An Lar their home. But even here, basking in the warmth, the island was filled with people preparing to celebrate the midwinter festival. That is, except for the handful of young ones still waiting at the Willowick creche.


    The Willowick creche was an ancient school for dragons, where only those lucky enough to be birthed into the right families spent their early years, far from the contamination of fae or shadow or human, or, too often, even their own parents. Everything here shouted first class. The school was filled with rooms built of granite and dragonfire, not a bit of brick and mortar; even the magic workshops had been hollowed out from the heart rock of the mountain rather than being held in a stout stone building at some distance from the rest of the buildings, like was done in lesser schools.


    But today there were no lessons in the arts of fire and fighting and negotiating favorable trade balances with reluctant merchants scattered across the lands where the Dragonkin conducted their business. No, today, a few of the professors had flown home to their families, but most of the rest had flown off to the great midwinter¡¯s conference, each carting massive monographs on things like the inability of trolls to resist an offer of cats¡¯ tails when negotiating for access to the light, or how to keep hobgoblins at odds with the lesser princes of the Seelie Court, or whether it was technically possible to reestablish mimosa on Dragonhame and other such fare, for this is how the dragonkin celebrated and showed off their status.


    The only ones left at the school were the second level assistants. So for this day and the week ahead, there would be no hard studies, and much of the day would be spent in the warm sands of the sun pit, a place spread with fine white sand and ancient rocks worn smooth from many dragon enjoying their afternoon rests.


    One of the assistants crooned a song to her young charges:


    ¡°How many places are there under the sun,


    Where wings can dip and feet can run?


    Beads hanging around the neck of the giver of life


    Where all can move in joy and strife?


    Small is Shadow , where the dark ones hide,


    Next comes Ynys Afel , the Seelie Court¡¯s pride,


    Manhame next, where life is short,


    Magic rare and war a sport,


    Dragonhame the birthplace, your tale is sad


    Ancient magic drove your people mad,


    And then Lord Gardaran found the secret way


    That brought us here together today.¡±


    Normally a song like that would see the young heads finding pillow rocks and curling up to sleep, warmed by the sun and the sand in the afternoon heat. But this day, the little dragonets, rolled their little scaled bodies across the sands, flapping tiny wings and jumping, still too young for true flight, chasing each other. Those so gifted blew smokes at those who weren¡¯t, which were most of them.


    ¡°Rockspire, get off of Greysmoke!¡± the assistant, a pretty young dragonkin maid by the name of Shadowwind Greenschist, whose green and blue scales glittered in the warm light as her female ruff laid close to her head and as she flickered her wings in irritation, a sure set of signs that someone was about to get into trouble. ¡°Just because the headmaster has gone to the meeting doesn¡¯t mean you get to act like trows today. I can still send you to the office!¡±


    ¡°Who¡¯s left to discipline?¡± A green-headed dragonet asked a blue scaled one.


    ¡°Master Stormblaster,¡± his companion said.


    Eyes across the room grew large and nervous, and the green headed one covered his head with his hands. ¡°He bopped me last week with that big stick of his.¡±


    ¡°My dad used to scare me with stories about him,¡± said another.


    The dragonets settled down a little bit.


    ¡°Tell the story about how Gandaran found the way here,¡± said a small child who crawled up to Shadowwind and leaned against her leg.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± said Rockspire. He snuggled deeper into the sand, only leaving his forearms exposed. ¡°Tell us about how it all happened!¡±


    Shadowwind, lifted herself up, freeing her forearms and picked up the little dragonet, set the child in her lap and nodded.


    ¡°Once upon a time, a great madness swept over Dragonhame, unleashed, they say, by a wizard who thought that profit was bad....¡±

 Day of the Winter Solstice

    Chapter 2


    The Fire Sickness bloomed across Dragonhame,


    And one by one the great halls fell


    Ancient fastnesses lost to time,


    Lost to hot flame and madness, one lone wizard¡¯s foul spell -


    May he burn nameless, wingless, in the deepest pits forever,


    Kin betrayer, world destroyer.


    One lone person brought our people down,


    One lone rescuer was lifted up


    Blessed by the Life Giver to save those left,


    May his name be remembered forever.


    Gandaran the lone soul untouched by the madness


    Locked long in his study beneath solid stone,


    Wrested the solution out of the cold earth.


    Rare were the earths and rarer the spirits


    That went into the draught he brewed in that place,


    Rare were the spirits and rarer the powers


    who taught him the secrets to make a new way.


    One by one, he sought them out,


    The lost, the hopeless, wing-torn and and forlorn,


    Dosed them well with Blazendraught, and sent them here,


    Here to Sunderland , where dazed and reborn,


    The new life for Dragonkin beneath the warm sun


    began anew.


    - The Lay of Gandaran, Traditional Dragonkin Song


    Bathed in the sunny warmth of Sunderland, far from the cold of the north, a single male of the Dragonkin looked out at his people gathered for the winter solstice festival.


    ¡°Another Spoke of the Wheel, another Conference Week,¡± said Grimsbeard Raspstone, the President of the Dragonkin Economic Council, what the Aos Daoine would call their High King. ¡°I¡¯m glad we only do this twice a year.¡±


    He stood on a ledge connected to his private offices, watching the activities below. It was an excellent view.


    Grimsbeard was a respectable brown scaled dragonkin, of middling height as his people went, although any Daoine would have called him huge, with a fine set of spikes that started at his forehead and ran down his back, each, because of his rank, tipped in a case of engraved gold. Compared to the dragons of myth and legend, and especially the mighty Gandaran, he would have been considered small, barely a juvenile, but he was larger than most of his contemporaries, one of those Dragonkin his people gave the title of Dragon due to his size and his fully descended tail, as tribute to their ancient days of glory. His wings, when spread, glistened with brown and gold streaks, and a mustache and beard, not of hair, like the Daoine have, but of flesh, like a catfish, glimmered with pale shimmery highlights, as if they had been dusted with diamond dust. It was a hereditary trait of his bloodline, and made him all the more impressive.


    His looks though, were not what made him chairman. It was his knack for profit. As he watched, Grimsbeard silently calculated the income from the vendors and merchants who had gathered and set up booths for this conference, and all the speaking fees this meeting would generate and rubbed his hands together. ¡°A good haul,¡± he muttered.


    A door opened behind him, and he heard the light clicking of claws on the stone floor behind him.


    ¡°You asked for me, sir?¡± a voice said. ¡°I hope I didn¡¯t take too long getting here. I didn¡¯t expect to be called on before tomorrow.¡±


    He turned, looked at the pretty young dragonkin woman. Her scales were a lovely shade of blue, and she wore a wrap dress in a darker shade of blue that set her color off to its best advantage. Her female ruff a slightly paler shade than her face stood half erect, blushing slightly with uncertainty. It gave her a certain innocent charm he found amusing.


    ¡°Ah, Bluestone. You¡¯ve done well. I¡¯m sorry you had to start working during this chaos. The person you¡¯re replacing had to leave rather¡­ suddenly.¡±


    She raised the corner of her eye at this, paused a moment before continuing, uncertain how to react at the word suddenly, but quickly she smoothed her face and gave the chairman a curt, seemingly confident nod. ¡°Ah,¡± she said. ¡°Well, here I am.¡±


    ¡°Yes, and I am very glad of it,¡± the chairman said, returning her nod of confidence and adding a slight smile. ¡°You came highly recommended and this is a busy time. If you can handle this, you should be able to handle nearly anything the job throws at you.¡± He turned back to the ledge, his tail swishing the ground, and motioned for her to join him. ¡°Midwinter Conference is always such a mob. Everybody up north is glad to escape their winter for a while. For them,¡± he said, nodding to the crowd, ¡°they get to play. But we¡¯ve got a lot to do.¡±


    ¡°Yes sir.¡±


    Still, he dwelt on the crowd, not yet ready to turn away.


    ¡°Just think about it. All the people who don¡¯t have to be here, like all the idiots who hope to get their names noticed with yet another stupid speech on how to squeeze a little more trade out of the same issues that have been done five thousand times in the past, all the people trying to arrange a good mentor for their young ones, and all the people hoping to make a new trade connection....The money spent.¡± He smiled appreciatively. ¡°We own all this. All the profits, the fees, and even some of the sales go straight into our coffers. It keeps the government going.¡±


    ¡°But isn¡¯t that what the meeting¡¯s for?¡± she asked. ¡°That¡¯s what they told me at school. All this, all the services, is what keeps the government going, all given in return for things people choose to spend. Otherwise, we might have to,¡± and here her voice dropped softly, to barely above a whisper. ¡°We might have to have taxes.¡± She gave a little shudder at that thought.


    Grimsbeard chuckled at her reaction. ¡°Is that how they¡¯re teaching about it in the creches nowadays? In a way, in a way, that¡¯s quite true. And its all voluntary, and you said. None of these people have to be here. They come and spend only because they want to, and many hope it will be a lucrative expense, although I think for the most part, it¡¯s only the vendors selling dreams that see that. But the way the law is written, they¡¯re all extra. It¡¯s really only the the reports from the heads of the great divisions and their chairs that matter. The Great Council is the heart of it. Everything else is a extra.¡± He scratched himself under the chin. ¡°But my forebearers understood this. We smelled the profit, and a way to get financed that would keep people happy. That¡¯s why we started having the big festivals at the same time. The government gets funded, while we in the council would make it clear that everybody else was playing fair. To make sure nobody was cheating the Pact. Or at at least fair enough when you mix dragons and gold.¡±


    She looked over the crowd below them. Two dragon males, both young enough to be hot-blooded, and not quite old enough to know better circled around each other, while a knot of young dragon girls watched and giggled. ¡°I never realized that, sir.¡±


    He nodded. ¡°Indeed. It¡¯s a quite serious thing for anybody appointed to high office to miss without sending a stand-in. With everybody and their creche-mates showing up, it adds extra pressure for the reluctant to put in their appearances.¡±


    ¡°What happens, sir?¡± Bluestone asked, ¡°if they don¡¯t show up?¡±


    ¡°Someone who does that is outlawed. The offender and anybody who stands with him.¡±


    ¡°Outlawed? You mean...¡±


    ¡°Yes. No more Blazendraught for that person or any of his associates.¡±


    She shuddered at the thought. Blazendraught was the only thing that allowed dragonkin society to work. Without the medicine, taken on a monthly without fail, dragonkin fell into a state of madness, destroying everything and everybody around them, usually in great blasts of dragonfire. The Fire Sickness was what destroyed Dragonhame, and it was only through the efforts of Gandaran that any of the dragonkin survived at all, changed and lesser, but alive.


    Grimsbeard saw how his assistant was affected by the image, and continued on. ¡°Luckily, of course, that is a penalty that has seldom been given. Most who could have been caught doing something like this have decided to take matters into their own hands rather than face the Fire Sickness.¡±


    Bluestone nodded. ¡°I can understand that.¡±


    Grimsbeard continued. ¡°Of course, anybody who refuses to submit to the accounting really has other problems going on - embezzlement, conducting unauthorized experiments, life extension magic, or worst of all, trying to do destabilize the pact. Something big that can¡¯t be explained away and smoothed over by the usual methods. Dragonkin like that already have a touch of the madness.¡±


    ¡°No doubt you¡¯re right sir.¡± Bluestone nodded emphatically. ¡°Has it happened often?¡±


    ¡°Not very. Not enough to threaten the Pact in a serious way. Not enough to waken Gandaran. Once an attempt to bring back the old ways...once an attempt to take over the council...¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve studied about those,¡± she said, nodding.


    ¡°That¡¯s why we have the Dragon Investigation Corporation. You know their slogan.¡±


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    ¡°We never stop investigating. Never,¡± Bluestone said.


    ¡°It¡¯s true. They never stop investigating. And with a people like ours, we need it.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s hope they can keep catching the troublemakers before they cause too many problems,¡± Bluestone said.


    ¡°Let¡¯s.¡± He sighed. ¡°So many problems right below the surface. Let¡¯s hope the DIC can keep them there.¡± His face darkened for a moment, thinking about his worries, then he shook his head. ¡°No, it¡¯s Winter Solstice. Let¡¯s think about brighter thoughts than that today. Time to go over yesterday¡¯s receipts ¨C a much brighter thing to think about!¡±


    Grimsbeard gave his new assistant a small smile, then turned and walked to his desk.


    <hr>


    While Grimsbeard contemplated the ways of his people, to the north, on the White Isle, the Oldest sat in her sitting room pouring tea for a guest. This room, too overlooked the garden outside, and had a cheery fireplace, but there was no desk, only comfortable chairs and a long side table holding a tasteful floral arrangement. Between the chairs was a low table, which at this moment, held a teapot of blue and white, two cups, and a platter of small cakes.


    The Oldest picked up the teapot and began to pour. ¡°So, Arriane,¡± she said,smiling at the young woman sitting in front of her. ¡°Ethne told me you stopped by this morning and asked if I were free to talk to.¡±


    Arriane, a young woman of the Aos Daoine, sat in a sitting room next to the Oldest¡¯s office. She was very beautiful in a blonde frosted mode, with pale silver-blond hair tied up in braids piled on her head. Her eyes, large and luminous,of the usual blue, stood out in contrast against the porcelain of her skin, her cheeks just faintly touched with color. Her dress, a simple robe of dark blue accentuated her paleness even more. The only ornaments she wore was a simple band holding her hair in check and a belt of silver leaf-shaped links around her waist. It was a classic Daoine look, ones that only the best bloodlines could pull off, but the effect was spoiled by an air of uncertainty about the young woman, reflected in her eyes, and the fact she slightly chewed on her bottom lip right before she began to reply.


    ¡°I was hoping you wouldn¡¯t be busy,¡± Arriane replied. ¡°I knew I was taking a chance that you would be in and willing to see me. Greenholt is a different place on the holidays.¡±


    ¡°Especially on the Winter Solstice, where it seems the whole town empties out, with people going home,¡± the Oldest said, handing a cup of tea to her visitors. ¡°All the students gone, and more than half the instructors, and the workshops closed down for a week. It becomes a very quiet, peaceful place.¡± She turned to look out of the window at her garden. The snow that had fallen the day before had stopped, coating everything in white. A small flock of birds were hopping on the ground, exploring a section of a flowerbed that still had seedheads intact on their withered stalks. Someone must have opened a door or otherwise made a noise, because suddenly all the birds took flight. ¡°Just like those birds, busy one moment and gone the next.¡± She lifted the teapot back up and began to pour her own cup. ¡°In fact, I am surprised you¡¯re here, and not back home at Allynswood.¡±


    Arriane took a sip of the tea, then put her cup on the small table in front of her. ¡°Mother and I were considering it. But something came up at Alderbranch headquarters that needed her attention.¡±


    The Oldest nodded. ¡°That can happen for those of us who work in administration. Luckily for me, this is home, and has been for a long, long time. But I¡¯m sure your mother wouldn¡¯t have stood in your way if you had wanted to go visit your sister and nephew.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± Arriane said. She folded her hands together, then dropped her head to look down on them. ¡°She even told me that herself. But¡­¡±


    ¡°But?¡± The Oldest kept her voice soft. Arriane had been one of her students until just recently, and a gifted one, and she was curious what made the younger woman seek her out.


    Arriane looked up, her eyes intense, her lip quivering. ¡°I...I was remembering what you told us when we finished our schooling last summer. ¡®My office is open to all of my students. I wish you all the wisdom to choose the right course. You are arrows in the the hands of the Lifegiver. May you all find your own right target.¡¯¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± the older woman said. She picked up one of the cakes from the platter, then dipped it into the tea. ¡°I think I remember saying that. I usually say something like that when students finish their studies. Finding the right path sometimes can be hard.¡± She took a bite of the cake. ¡°Is...is your mother trying to encourage you to go a path you¡¯re not sure about?¡±


    Arriane nodded. ¡°She¡¯s been trying to get me to apply to the Alderbranches. Since my sister chose a different path, she¡¯s made it pretty clear that she wants me to take up the family tradition, as she puts it.¡± She picked up her teacup and stared into it, then took another sip.


    ¡°But you don¡¯t feel the calling.¡±


    The young woman shook her head.


    ¡°So tell me, if your mother wasn¡¯t pressuring you, what would you want to do?¡±


    ¡°I...I don¡¯t really know,¡± the young woman said. She put her teacup back down on the table. ¡°I thought when I enrolled here that I would go into the Magic Corps when I finished. But lately, I¡¯ve been wondering if that¡¯s the direction I really want to go in.¡±


    ¡°It is a commitment. You would either become part of the magical defenses at Ynys Afel, or be sent to one of the garrisons along the Boundary. There¡¯s more formality at court, of course, but mostly you¡¯d be in the background, even more out of sight, usually, than the King¡¯s security troops. Your work there would be to monitor for attacks, and keep the magic perimeter secure. It can be boring work, maintaining. I personally don¡¯t see you as cut out for that.¡±


    The young woman nodded in agreement. ¡°And my family has court connections, and that might add extra stress.¡±


    The Oldest dipped her cake into the tea again. ¡°A wise realization. You wouldn¡¯t be quite as anonymous as most of the Corps. Most of them are Aos Daoine, but not from one of the great houses. You¡¯d have to make more of an effort to stay in the background when it was your duty time. And you might even get drawn into court activities, or worse, court politics, which is not good for maintaining the discipline. And the Magic Corps is all about the discipline.¡±


    The young woman nodded.


    ¡°If you went to one of the garrisons, you¡¯d have more opportunity to use other skills, even attack skills. And there¡¯s room for growth. The Shadowlanders have magic, too, and they are always finding way around things our people are doing.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d thought of that,¡± Arriane said. ¡°But it just doesn¡¯t feel right at this moment,¡± she said.


    The Oldest looked at the woman in front of her, and recalled her as a student ¨C thoughtful, disciplined, curious, and once committed, always finished her tasks, no matter how difficult or how long it took. And who knew when to stay quiet, and when to ask questions. And she would listen to what was going on around her, even if she said nothing. Ever since she had finished her training, the Oldest had been hoping to talk with her, and had planned to seek her out after the holiday, but she gave a silent thanks to the Lifegiver for bringing her to her door.


    ¡°You could always continue here,¡± the Oldest said. ¡°You know the White Circle does more that offer magical training for those thinking about the Magic Guard.¡±


    ¡°The White Circle?¡± Arriane said, surprised. ¡°I...I thought you had to be specially sought out and invited. And a member of the Magic Guard to start with.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s true we find most of our members from the Magic Guard, mostly because we have more contact with them. But the skills that make a person useful to the Magic Guard or the Redsticks, or even the King¡¯s Guard aren¡¯t necessarily the ones that work for us. We need minds who can think, who can listen, who can investigate, and who are also able to handle the right magics.¡± She dipped the last piece of her cake into her tea. ¡°As for being invited, who do you think does the invitations?¡±


    ¡°I...I¡­¡± Arriane struggled for a reply, and ended up taking a sip of tea instead.


    ¡°If I say you are welcome here, you are welcome here, you know. There is always more to study, always more to do. Soon, the Youngest¡¯s term of office will be completed.¡±


    ¡°Oldest, are you suggesting?¡± Arianne said, surprised.


    ¡°I am. You are one of the brightest students I¡¯ve had in a while. Think about it. Visit your sister, go talk with your mother if you have doubts. But before that, I will be making a small visit to Berlit¡¯s Island. I would like you to come with me, as part of my escort.¡±


    ¡°Me?¡± Arriane asked.


    ¡°You can learn a little of what we do, ask questions, and have some time to think about what I¡¯m suggesting. And maybe by then, you can make up your mind about joining us. The role of the Youngest is a year long commitment, and after that year is up, you will still be free to stay or go. But it will keep you out of the Alderbranches for at least that long.¡±


    Arriane¡¯s eyes lit up. ¡°It would do that, wouldn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°It would indeed,¡± the Oldest said.


    The girl gave the older woman a flashingly brilliant smile. ¡°When is this meeting?¡±


    <hr>


    It was a huge room, at the heart of Sunderland Island. The walls had been carved out and then fused by dragon fire. It was lit by a circle of fifteen lamps that glowed from their niches in the walls.


    In the center, curled up as if asleep was the biggest dragon of all the dragons in An Lar. Unlike all the dragonkin at the assembly, this dragon was not of one color ¨C red, brown, black, blue, green, gray or golden ¨C it was all of them, and purple as well, one colored region sliding into the next. Hiss wings were massive, shrouding his sides. A row of gold spines wrapped round his back, almost to the tip of his tale. Each finger of his red hands was tipped in a shining black claw. Purple mustachios, like those of a giant catfish drooped from his snout. It was hard to tell if the reclining figure was alive or dead, but from time to time, if one watched carefully, one would see him take a breath.


    The air crackled with great power, surrounding the carved stone bed the dragon lay on. From time to time, a dust particle fell towards it, and exploded in a brief twinkling flash, evaporated by the magic surrounding him.


    The council members stood up in a respectful semicircle around the dragon¡¯s head.


    ¡°Hail, Gandaran, savior of our people. May you rest contented for another turn of the wheel,¡± they chanted in unison.


    Obeisances made, the filed to the small meeting room to the back of the vault, and took their places. The room, by tradition, did not have a door, so that they in their quarterly meeting, would look out over the silent form of Gandaran. Grimsbeard stood up, looking to his right and left at the faces of the gathered powerful, taking them in, open and closed, greedy and efficient ¨C above all, ready to insure their power. What he wanted to do now was probe.


    An expectant tension grew. When it built large enough, he spoke. ¡°In this sacred place, let us remember, one and all - Dragonkin are people of a pact,¡± Grimsbeard said, a line directly from the catechism they all had learned in school when they were little ones. ¡°This pact is our sacred core. As council members, we have all sworn an oath to it.¡±


    ¡°We all know that,¡± said Jasper Greystone. ¡°We are all well past the point of creche mates, learning it for the first time.¡±


    ¡°Bear with me, Jasper. I know that Redbluff Explorations doesn¡¯t like to wait around for much, but some of us have to go a more circular route. I plod much more. Perhaps it¡¯s from being in finance, where you have to track every quarter copper.¡± There was a little snicker in the room. Grimsbeard ignored it.


    ¡°What are the parts of the pact? We represent the five branches of Dragonkin worth. Transportation. Pharmaceuticals. Exploration. Finance. Trade. The five great divisions, the five great families of Dragon being. From this division, we ended all the dragon wars that nearly wiped us out. It is an interlocking net. Trade cannot happen without Transportation. We all rely on Blazendraught. Wealth requires finance to ease the wheels. Exploration shows us new ways of making wealth, new markets, new applications, fresh knowledge. No one clan or family or association is to control all. Trade cannot control Finance or vice versa. Transportation cannot control Exploration or vice versa. Trade nor Finance can control Transportation or Exploration None of the others can control Pharmaceuticals. All must work as equals, no cross-field conglomerates. Too much power in one group -this brought down Dragonhame. To do them here will be the end of Dragonkin.¡±


    ¡°These are the words of Gandaran,¡± said Greyheart Bloodstone, head of Windriver Financials. ¡°Blessed be he. His words have brought us great prosperity.¡±


    ¡°And what did he promise us if we broke the pact?¡±


    ¡°That he would awake and smite us all.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s not dead,¡± Grimsbeard said. ¡°I have been down to the vault every year, for a hundred and sixty years, as many of you have done. Watch him, my fellow members of the council. He breathes. He monitors. He knows.¡±


    ¡°Right before the last attempted rebellion against the council, he lashed his tail,¡± said the oldest member, Thornbrand Agatefoot, a huge dragon of black hues. ¡°I was young, but I saw it. I thought the chairman was going to pass out.¡±


    There was nodding around the room. Grimsbeard let the tension mount again.


    ¡°Two weeks ago, Gandaran flexed his right hand,¡± he announced.


    That brought out the voices.


    ¡°Who saw it?¡± Greyheart asked.


    ¡°I saw it. My assistant, whom I assure you, has been sent to a safe place, in case of whoever caused Gandaran to stir gets ideas. Three guards, also sequestered. You don¡¯t trust my word on such a sacred thing?¡±


    Greyheart cleared his throat. ¡°I will take your word, only because the consequences could be so grave.¡±


    ¡°Grave indeed. He is the last of the old, true Dragons. The changes he made to save us made us lesser. Most of us any more never get our tails. We are small, stunted, childsized compared to Gandaran and the dragons who ruled Dragonhame. All this has been the effects of blazendraught. Do any of you think you have the power to stand up to him?¡±


    There were a flurry of hem and haws, shuffling feet and shaking heads.


    ¡°There is talk about changing the pact.¡± Grimsbeard held up his hand. ¡°Yes I know there¡¯s always talk. Young folk will say wild things. But there is rumor that it goes higher than just young folk speaking. Look around you. Who is missing today?¡±


    The council members knew exactly who he was talking about.


    ¡°I¡¯m here for Transportation,¡± a small red dragonkin said. ¡°I am the head of Borson Transports.¡±


    ¡°Yes, we know, Saavin. Subsidiary company of Briarwood and Flysch. We know.¡± Grimsbeard nodded. ¡°Keep an eye out. We do not want to awaken Gandaran. We do not.¡±


    At that moment, the ensorcelled great dragon let out a long breath.


    ¡°We do not.¡±

 Four Days After the Winter Solstice

    Chapter 3


    ¡°Until we came and set up the Dragon Web, the people of An Lar barely knew each other. Hamlets and cities alike, stuck like little islands across this vast land. Little knowledge shared, little trade happening, and a lot of untrue legends about the people even one mountain ridge away. Since we started shop, the schools at White Island have boomed, and even the smallest child gets a chance to learn more than how to handle a hoe. And goods ¨C things that once were luxuries only the richest could have, why they¡¯re everywhere! You should get down on your knees and thank the Lifegiver that we showed up on day, instead of complaining about how much it costs to travel. How much did it cost when everything went by caravan?¡±


    --From No-Space to Everywhere by Flysch Graben, cofounder of Briarwood and Flysch


    It was a sunny day in the town of Comrie in the land of An Lar, sunny but cold, just a few days past the winter equinox. Many people were still on holiday, or returning from it, and the wind was chill, but the sun inviting after the recent snow. It teased more people out on the street, mostly Aos Darion, with their large pointed ears, but very few of the high Sidhe, joined with a few Dwarves and other fae folk and even fewer humans. After all Comrie was in the heart of the Fae realm; its port was the gateway to both the White Isle and and Ynys Afel.


    A small Fae woman who sported both the large ears of a Bauchan and the brilliant blue eyes of a Daoine highborn dodged a carriage to cross the street and walk up to a large, imposing stone building, by far the finest on the street. It took up the whole block, three stories tall. Unlike most of the other buildings there, it was set back from the walk, with a fine stone curb. A large entry graced the center, with four massive doors. There might have not had any, with all the people walking in and out, some carrying packages, others luggage.


    As she neared, a Spriggan porter, small like all his kind were when not enraged into gigantic size, lifted his oversized head to give her a calculating look, losing interest when he saw she wasn¡¯t carrying anything of bulk. Another Spriggan, luckier in getting work, lumbered under an amazing pile of boxes and bundles as his customer lead him to a waiting carriage. A line of wagons were queued up by the freight door along the cross street, their oxen standing there placidly, giving a few flicks of the ears at the street noises. Their Bauchan drivers, wrapped up in heavy woolen cloaks against the cold weather and good caps to protect their oversized pointed ears, glanced from time to time at the freight doors. Even from where she was walking, the Fae woman could hear them complain about how slowly the lead wagon was being loaded. They paid the woman no mind.


    She got to the front and looked up. Overhead, in bright gold and black letters, a sign proclaimed:


    Briarwood and Flysch


    Comrie Station Dragon Web


    Freight ¨C Travel ¨C Messaging


    Why walk when you can Web?


    The very best in No-Space services


    ¡°Briarwood and Flysch, the very best at separating you from your money,¡± she muttered to herself as she pushed through the door.


    Immediately, she almost bumped into a tall, blond-haired Daoine magistrate carrying a full satchel of papers. Like many of the high Fae, he was dressed in silk and fine leather, but had gone a step further and had his badge of office fastened to his chest as if to signal his importance to the people around him. Scowling briefly at the audacity of a lesser Fae coming between him and the door, his face softened as he recognized her.


    ¡°Ah, good morning to you, Gan Thistleberry! How are things at the school today?¡± he said with a small nod of the head.


    She gave him a polite nod in return and a pleasant smile. ¡°Quiet, for a change, Councilman Dor. School holidays are a lovely thing. All my little charges are off with their parents or in the care of the holiday caretakers.¡±


    He chuckled. ¡°Maybe lovelier for the teachers than the parents, perhaps. Have a good holiday, then. Tell the lovely Melusine I send her greetings. I hope to see her at the Holiday End bonfire tomorrow night. And you, too, of course.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be sure to let her know,¡± Gan said.


    And with that, he walked onto the street.


    She entered the main room, chuckling a little at the councilman¡¯s words. ¡°If you only knew what Melusine says about you, Master Dor.¡±


    It was a voluminous space inside - counters on two walls, a row of offices against one side, and exits to the traveler waiting space in the far corner. There were bright posters along the walls. ¡°See the Southern Seas!¡± ¡°Travel to the Grey Moutains!¡± ¡°Visit the White Isle!¡± all with beautiful people playing at the beach or enjoying the scenery. Rich, beautiful high status perfect Aos Daoine not a single picture of the Aos Darion, be they Bauchan or Spriggan or Bogle or any of the other groups among them.


    There were times the messaging of the posters irritated her, but today was not one of those days. She had other things on her mind. By the freight counter there was a long line of customers, mostly Bauchans in their practical work clothes and large pointed ears, mixed with a Bogle or two, and a single Human, all with boxes and bundles to ship off. Overhead of the workers weighing and stamping the packages, there was a big banner: ¡°We can handle all your shipment needs. Talk to our clerk about special needs. We have temporary jump keys for those extra heavy loads. Nobody moves your goods like Briarwood and Flysch.¡±


    She passed them by, then turned left, past a impressive wooden door emblazoned with a giant Dragon¡¯s eye in shining read. Surrounding it was the lettering: ¡°Dragon Investigation Corporation: We Never Stop Investigation. Never.¡±


    ¡°Never if they ever start,¡± the woman muttered, and then sighed as she passed it by as well. Instead, she headed to the message counter which had a much shorter line.


    A young Dragonkin woman was standing behind the counter. She, like most of the counter staff at the Dragon Web station, were young, rather humanoid in appearance, two armed and legged, with no visible wings or tail, just slightly taller than a man of the Daoine.


    ¡°Mama,¡± said a small boy in the line ahead of her. ¡°I thought there¡¯d be dragons! The big ones, with tails and everything.¡±


    The woman with him smiled down. ¡°No, no, Toby. Those dragons are too big to work the counters. Instead, we have nice ladies like Marin working here. She¡¯s a Dragonkin, too, but just not so big. See - she has scales like a dragon.¡±


    ¡°But she doesn¡¯t have wings!¡± the boy said.


    ¡°But we do, young master,¡± said the clerk. She was lightly scaled, a pale green, and her head bore a female¡¯s ruff of leathery skin. She wore a simple robe of light blue, bearing the name of Briarwood and Flysch. ¡°We just keep them under our clothes. We have claws like the big dragons, too.¡± She held up her fingers, and wiggled them. Each one was tipped with a hard white point. ¡°If we are going to get tails, we don¡¯t get tails until we¡¯re older.¡±


    ¡°Oh!¡± the boy said, tugging on one of his slightly pointed, shell-like ears, proof of his high status bloodline. No oversized, protruding ears for the Daoine.


    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, Marin,¡± the woman said, obviously embarrassed. ¡°This is the first time I¡¯ve brought him here since he was a babe in arms. Winter Solstice holiday and all that.¡±


    ¡°Not a problem, Mistress Arin.¡± Marin said. ¡°Before I came here, I worked at the creche school at Sunderland. I can tell you, there¡¯s not much difference between Dragonkin boys and Fae ones.¡± A young man, a Bauchan, one of the many who worked at the station doing the running, fetching, and heavy work, walked up behind her and handed Marin a pouch decorated with the Briarwood and Flysch symbol. The Dragon slid it across the counter. ¡°Ah, here you go, Mistress Arin. Your messages. Any other business? Would you like to purchase some prepaid message pouches?¡±


    ¡°Not today,¡± the Daoine woman said. She handed the pouch to her son. ¡°You carry it for me, Toby. Thanks, Marin. See you soon.¡±


    The couple turned and walked away, and Gan stepped up to the counter.


    Marin looked up and her female ruff reacted, coloring positively as she recognized the woman.


    ¡°Ah, Mistress Gan! here to pick up the school¡¯s messages?¡±


    ¡°Yes please,¡± she said. ¡°Even with the holidays, the messages come and go.¡± The small woman slid a bag across the counter emblazoned with Master Gwaher¡¯s School of Of Grammarie, Magic and Practical Arts. ¡°And here¡¯s the outgoing.¡±


    The dragon beckoned to another one of her assistants, a young Clurican boy with large pointed ears and shocking red hair.


    ¡°Ross, go and fetch the school¡¯s message bag,¡± she said.


    While he scurried off, Marin opened the pouch, and took out the correspondence. ¡°For some of us, the work never pauses, holiday or not,¡± she said as she stamped an envelope.


    ¡°True. Even for us teachers. There¡¯s always lessons to plan,¡± Mistress Gan said. ¡°It never ends.¡±


    ¡°And things to be moved,¡± Marin replied.


    ¡°I would imagine,¡± Gan said, nodding. ¡°Still, I hope they give you some time off.¡±


    ¡°A little. We¡¯ll be closed tomorrow for counter business.¡±


    ¡°I hope you get to enjoy it,¡± Gan replied.


    ¡°Here¡¯s hoping. At least I have plans.¡± Marin sounded a little doubtful.


    As the last of the school correspondence was stamped, the woman pulled a blue envelope out of her pocket. ¡°From Gan Thistleberry, Comrie to Elaine Allyns, Lady of Allynswood,¡± it read in a clear, plain hand. ¡°I¡¯d like to send this.¡±


    ¡°Personal or school business?¡± the dragonkin asked.


    ¡°Personal,¡± Gan said.


    ¡°Ah, going to Allynswood, I see,¡± Marin said as stamped it. ¡°That¡¯s down by Waterford by Glint?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m impressed, Marin. Not all that big a place, Allynswood. I think the closest station is the one at Goblin Market,¡± Gan replied. ¡°Who knows when my friend gets as far as Waterford?¡±


    ¡°We would send word,¡± the dragonkin said. ¡°All part of the service.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure, but it¡¯s still a long ride,¡±


    The dragon woman nodded, filled out a receipt, and gave Gan half. That¡¯ll be four coppers.¡±


    She dug into her purse. ¡°When will she get it?¡±


    ¡°It should get there tomorrow. We¡¯ll send word from Goblin Market.¡±


    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    Ross came back with a small bag stuffed with envelopes. ¡°No packages today, Mistress Thistleberry.¡±


    ¡°Holiday times will do that,¡± she said, taking the bag. And with that, she headed out.


    <hr>


    While Gan Thistleberry sent her messages in Comrie, in Sunderland things were beginning to wind down.


    For the past five days of the Dragonkin conference there had been an endless round of discussion about trade, rudeness of the other, non-Dragon peoples, a demonstration about a new twist on using mobile jump stones in Dwarvish mines, another on the impact of Fae trade near the stations of both shortlifer¡¯s and Shadowland zones (the conclusion that Fae goods lost their appeal as the population shifted towards the short-lifed, but there was profit on the darker, military technologies. ¡°Shadow gold is as good as Aos Si gold!¡± was a hotly contested slogan with a minority who didn¡¯t live in the Borderland. And many more panels besides.


    Matchmakers slipped in, as usual, as did those ready to negotiate trade agreements.


    It was a wearying set of days. Beyond the endless discussions and papers and parties, there were five duels, one death, ten accusations of larceny, three of fraud, and twenty seven petitions for opening up new web offices. Elections were held for two of the council members, which returned the original council members to their seats, much to the dismay of the reformist movement. One dragon was banished from his home district for plagiarism and threatened with being outlawed if he did it again. Once the last paper was given, and the last court case was heard, Grimsbeard was glad to see it go, no matter how much gold had fallen into his coffers.


    Just after the closing ceremonies, a small, gray dragon slipped into the president¡¯s office.


    The president lifted up his cup of red dust spiced tea, and sipped it. Red dust was famous for having mild sedative properties for Dragonkin, and after all the activity, he needed it. Peering over the top of his cup, he noticed the quiet arrival, but this was one he had been expecting, and was not surprised. ¡°Master Investigator,¡± Grimsbeard said, acknowledging him with a nod of his head.


    ¡°That¡¯s the Master Investigator?¡± Bluestone, who had been at the president¡¯s side during the whole of the event, filing, finding and fetching for her employer looked even more frazzled than the president. She had been avoiding sedatives herself, and the strain of the week showed in her eyes and the amount of smoke sneaking out of her nostrils. She put down her notepad, tipped her head to the side and looked at the newcomer ¡°He¡¯s so....small.


    ¡°Very observant, Bluestone,¡± Grimsbeard said. ¡°Although, you might try to avoid talking about people in third person when they are standing in front of you.¡±


    She blushed bluely and clasped a hand over her mouth.¡°I¡¯m so sorry. My apologies, sir. It¡¯s just that...you know, the illustrations I¡¯ve seen from the Dragon Investigation Corporation...the news sheets... I thought you¡¯d be as big as one of the old dragons, like Briarwood or Weststone.¡±


    The gray Dragonkin snorted, amused by her reaction, then nodded his head politely. ¡°That¡¯s what everybody says. But my family, well, we¡¯re different than most of the other dragons.¡± He slid into a seat along the wall.


    ¡°This is true,¡± Grimsbeard said. ¡°For millennia the Investigator clan has, for the most part, bred small.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s linked to our special talent,¡± the small dragon said. He touched his nose, and even as Bluestone watched, the dragon in front of her grew faint and hard to see. She knew he was there. She could hear his breathing, see his shadow.


    ¡°Invisibility?¡± Bluestone said, but shook her head. Grimsbeard smiled at her confusion. ¡®No...not exactly,¡± she said focusing her concentration. ¡°I can¡¯t see through you. It¡¯s like...like...my mind just refuses to see where you are.¡± Her eyes got big and her wings flapped in agitation.


    ¡°It¡¯s a useful talent for investigators,¡± Grimsbeard said. ¡°Most of the field operatives have that ability. It¡¯s a gift that helps settle all the problems that stupid Dragonkin give us. Would you like some tea?¡±


    The investigator shook his head. Grimsbeard dismissed Bluestone, then picked up a report that was laying on his desk.


    ¡°Gandaran stirred before Brightening Day,¡± Grimsbeard said. He handed the papers to Master Invesigator. ¡°Here¡¯s something for your files.¡±


    Master Investigator arched an eye ridge as he accepted the report. ¡°It was witnessed?¡±


    The larger dragon nodded. ¡°By myself, by my assistant Chrysto and three others. Just in case, I¡¯ve got them in a protected area until we can figure out who¡¯s involved.¡± He tapped his claws on the table. ¡°I informed the council, and still not even a rumor of what¡¯s going on.¡± He looked at Master Investigator. ¡°But Gandaran doesn¡¯t stir for no reason.¡±


    ¡°No he doesn¡¯t,¡± Master Investigator said. ¡°Any ideas?¡±


    ¡°Not really, not yet. I wouldn¡¯t be shocked if it was something with Financials and Trade combining in black market deals, but I don¡¯t even have a whiff of a rumor.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll put extra people on it,¡± Master Investigator said, nodding. ¡°There¡¯s been some interest in the new jump stones. Even with the agreements with Ynys Afel about not letting them get into the Boundary lands, it¡¯s going to be hard to keep them out of the black market. It wasn¡¯t such a problem when they had to be preset by a Jump mage, but the new ones...¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t have that limitation,¡± Grimsbeard said, nodding. ¡°That, and the researcher disappearances are really going to be headache after headache with the King¡¯s Court in Ynys Afel.


    ¡°No-Space research can be dangerous, Briarwood and Flysch tell all the investigators,¡± the Master Investigator said. ¡°But somehow it happens mostly to people who do not work for them. I¡¯ve always found that rather¡­.interesting. Funny, when it comes to working in that particular field, even the scholars doing pure research vanish far more often than it happens to any of their staff. In fact, I don¡¯t know of a single case where a dragon in his employ did. Could Gandaran¡¯s unrest be linked?¡±


    ¡°There are people in the Fae community starting to make some real noise.¡± Grimsbeard lifted his tea cup. ¡°We need to really know if it¡¯s the nature of the business, or the Business, if you take my meaning,¡± he said. ¡°Nothing we can do about it if the research is dangerous, and foolish people without the right safeguards are doing themselves in, but if it¡¯s commercial espionage and murder...¡± He took a sip of his tea. ¡°I believe Ynys Afel, or at least interested parties in the court have gotten the White Circle involved in digging, and you know that might not necessarily be good for us. Who knows what else they might find? We need to solve this before they learn things they shouldn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°The White Circle is good, but not as good as we are, Sir,¡± The master investigator said. ¡°Their goals are different. Still, their being involved might be useful. It is possible that their odd ways might give us a breakthrough. Perhaps we could cooperate with them a little more. That might help direct them in the way that would benefit us without getting the King¡¯s Court too involved.¡±


    ¡°You have a point, Master Investigator,¡± Grimsbeard said. ¡°Use your judgment on this.¡±


    ¡°The investigation never stops, sir.¡± He tapped his nose. ¡°You do realize that the disappearances and Gandaran¡¯s stirring might be related.¡±


    ¡°The thought has crossed my mind.¡± Grimsbeard nodded. ¡°I just can¡¯t figure out who benefits. If it¡¯s not Briarwood doing it, who else would it be? Protecting trade secrets shouldn¡¯t bother Gandaran at all.¡± The dragon drummed his fingers on the desk again.


    ¡°Well, hopefully there¡¯s nothing else coming up to be a crisis in the next year.¡±


    The small dragon gave a small smirk.


    ¡°Only Haran¡¯s station demand for a new manager. That might be looking into. The desert people are noted for taking matters into their own hands. And Briarwood and Flysch are really up at arms about what to do about the Fae-Human leakage in High Crannock, where there¡¯s a natural gate. They are trying to convince Ynys Afal to move people away from the gate; It¡¯s an ancient holy site to one of the Fae societies. There¡¯s a lot of resistance.¡±


    ¡°Always something,¡± Grimsbeard said. ¡°All of that is business as usual. Gandaran stirred. Why? Lifegiver and the Lord of Stone help us if it¡¯s another case like the Rebellion.¡±


    ¡°We won¡¯t let that happen,¡± the small dragon said, ¡°When we fail, bad things happen. We won¡¯t get caught napping this time.¡±


    ¡°Journeyswain was a good Investigator,¡± Grimsbeard said. ¡°But the Rebellion was not his fault.¡±


    ¡°Easy to say,¡± the grey dragon said. He stood still, as if he was trying to keep his wings from fluttering. Still, his spikes colored slightly. ¡°I think maybe my father was too trusting during those days. He never quite got over it happening. I will not make his mistakes.¡±


    ¡°But I just want you to know that we never thought he was corrupt or untruthful in his work.¡± Grimsbeard said. ¡°The Council never doubted him.¡±


    Master Investigator nodded. ¡°Thank you, sir.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t let any of the great families or conglomerates cower you on this. If your father had any failing, perhaps that¡¯s its real source.¡±


    Master Investigator took a deep breath, then nodded. ¡°The missing persons investigation may ruffle feathers at Briarwood and Flysch,¡± he said. ¡°Are we prepared for that?¡±


    ¡°Yes. if there¡¯s any smoke to the fire, we need to know. If Briarwood and Flysch are involved, it might get touchy. Old Briarwood has a hideaway right next to one of the High Daoine estates. They are connected to the highest levels of An Lar. If he is doing something we need to know about and he does something stupid, we may have to take extra measures to keep Ynys Afel off our back. Just be aware.¡±


    ¡°I will see what I can find,¡± the grey dragon said. He bowed once, and slipped back the way he came.


    <hr>


    Far from Sunderland, in the still warm and dry lands of the west, where rain was scant and the land dry and minerals abounded, was the region of Harani. On this day, the local Dragonweb station was busy with holiday travelers heading for home on top of its usual business.


    Umber Madrona, a young grey Dragonkin, stretched his wings with just the smallest bit of impatience as he waited in line at the ticket counter. It was a motley group of people ahead of him, including two high born Daoine men with flowing hair, a Bauchan craftsman carrying a toolbox, a Hyter, with bird feather hair hair in iridescent shades of blue and green, and even a Barghest, horns shining brightly with a golden caps at the tips.


    The Hyter squawked towards a group of other bird people, who returned the call.


    ¡°I bet she¡¯s buying tickets for a whole flock,¡± Umber muttered. He fluttered his wings again. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t be surprised if she¡¯s going to try to get them to go shapeshifted into bird form so they can pay pet rates. I hope the clerk is smarter than that.¡±


    Just in front of Umber was a Knocker, short, heavily muscled, and pale from lack of sun. ¡°Let¡¯s hope,¡± he said, overhearing Umber¡¯s comment. ¡°Line¡¯s moving too slow as it is.¡± He turned and looked at Umber. ¡°They even make Dragons wait in line?¡±


    ¡°Alas, yes.¡± Umber shrugged.


    The Knocker adjusted his cap. ¡°I hate traveling during holiday times. At least tomorrow it¡¯s back to the delvings. If I ever get there.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re from Harani?¡± Umber asked.


    ¡°Thank the Lifegiver, no. I¡¯m from the Grey Mountains, only place fit for Knockers. My partner Svalar, though,¡± he said, nodding in the direction of a Dwarf in deep conversation with another Dragonkin, ¡°he¡¯s from around these parts. His oldest got married over the holiday, and he dragged me with him.¡± He frowned. ¡°Is that a salesman he¡¯s talking to? I¡¯ve warned him time and time again to stay away from salesmen, but this line is moving so slowly...He¡¯s the easiest mark for people selling things he doesn¡¯t need.¡± The Knocker took a deep sigh. ¡°He doesn¡¯t have a chance.¡±


    The Dwarf stood with crossed arms in front of the salesman.


    ¡°The very latest thing from Briarwood and Flysch, very handy for mining,¡± the Dragon, a young blue, was saying, showing him a small rectangle of polished stone. So far, the Dwarf looked skeptical. ¡°Guaranteed to save you time and money.¡±


    Umber smiled. ¡°Briarwood and Flysch sales people can be rather persuasive.¡±


    ¡°Tell me about it,¡± the Knocker said.


    ¡°Not always worth it, though,¡± Umber noted.


    ¡°And that¡¯s what I¡¯m afraid of.¡± The Knocker adjusted his hat. ¡°I¡¯ve seen this game before.¡±


    The Dwarf examined the rectangle. ¡°And what do you call this thingie?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s called a jump stone,¡± the salesman said.


    ¡°Jump stone, eh? And how would that work in the delvings? It¡¯s such a small thing.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not with them?¡± the Knocker asked.


    Umber shook his head. ¡°No. I¡¯m with Dragon Investigations. My people are supposed to keep their people in line.¡±


    ¡°Let me demonstrate.¡± The sales person walked to the front of the counter. ¡°I have this one set to jump to the middle of the room.¡± He attached it to a small bucket. ¡°Now watch. I tap the stone once, activating the magical field, then slide my finger left to right across it¡¯s surface.¡±


    He tapped it, and the stone began to glow, and the glow surrounded the bucket. Then he slid his finger across the surface. There was a small pop, and the bucket disappeared, reappearing in the center of the room.


    That caught a number of people¡¯s attention, and not just in the ticket line.


    ¡°Damn, nothing Svalar likes better than clever gadgets,¡± the Knocker said. ¡°But he just spent a fortune on that wedding. Maybe...¡±


    A couple of people walked over to look at the bucket. A Bauchan boy lifted it up, and looked under it, scratching his head.


    ¡°Dragon Investigations? The ¡°We Never Stop Investigating¡± people?¡± The Knocker turned his back on the demonstration. He missed the Dragonkin walking over to the boy to rescue his bucket.


    ¡°For the return trip, you just reverse the process,¡± the dragon said, sending the bucket back to where it started from. ¡°Tap it once, slide right to left. Works on people, too.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s our slogan,¡± Umber said.


    Finally the line moved forward as a Daoine noble finished his ticket buying and moved towards a group of ten companions.


    ¡°You investigating anything, like maybe not letting highborns hog the ticket line?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t we wish,¡±Umber said, shaking his head. ¡°Alas, no. I¡¯m heading to town of Goblin Market where I get to finish learning how to work in an Investigator¡¯s office.¡±


    ¡°Goblin Market? Never heard of it.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a small place, by Waterford by Glint.¡± Umber shrugged. ¡°They like to start us in small places.¡±


    ¡°I thought you looked a bit on the youngish side,¡± the Knocker said. ¡°Well, everybody¡¯s got to start somewhere.¡±


    The jump stone demonstration was gathering a small crowd as the bucket jumped forward and back with both the Dragonkin and Dwarf sending on its way.


    ¡°Would you like to try it?¡± the sales person asked. ¡°Like I said, it¡¯s perfectly safe.¡±


    The Knocker put his hand over his face. ¡°Here we go...¡±


    The salesman handed the jump stone to the dwarf. ¡°Just tap it once, then slide your finger across it left to right.¡±


    A bit awkwardly, the Dwarf did just that, disappearing, then appearing in the center of the room. A few of the people watching clapped.


    ¡°By the Delver! That was an odd feeling. That was naked No-Space?¡±


    The Dragonkin nodded. ¡°Strange place, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°No place I¡¯d want to dwell in. I can see why the Dragon Web uses carriages. But on the other hand, it¡¯s so fast. Is there any distance limit on it?¡±


    ¡°None, as far as they¡¯ve told me.¡±


    ¡°Imagine having one of these set up if you were journeying and got lost, or your were sailing and the ship was sinking....¡±


    He tapped it once, swiped it the other way, and was standing back next to the salesman. ¡°Or you were deep in the delvings and part of the tunnel collapsed.¡±


    ¡°Exactly. And it could be used to get the ore out, faster, which is why I wanted to show you.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t do it, Svalar...¡± the Knocker said.


    ¡°How much do your people want for these?¡±


    ¡°Come back into my office, and let¡¯s discuss that.¡±


    The Knocker sighed, and stepped forward as the line moved up.

 Day 7 of the Ice Month

    Chapter 4


    After the Sundering had ripped the face of the world, and Aife the Dark, once my favorite aunt and now the murderer of my mother, had been sent into the depths of the Shadowlands, my sisters and I wandered across the face of the Sunlit Lands looking to save what we could. There was so much wreckage, so much loss, so many devastated lives, it all merges into one painful blur and I have no idea how long it took. But this memory has always stayed with me: One night we rested amongst a grove of wild apples on an island we named, unimaginatively, Ynys Afel, Apple Island.


    I remember Airmed was tending to a couple we found, battered and sick with the red fever, one of the unwelcome gifts my unloving aunt had left us, and Rosmerta had her nose buried in a text she had found in a ruin on the island. I had no energy to chide her about it, or even comment. We were all exhausted by this point.


    Suddenly there was a surge of bright purple light and a loud boom in the same clearing we had made camp. We dashed out of the tents to see what new magic or disaster awaited us. Brigant, spear in hand rushed out first, the warrior always, but stopped. I hurried behind her, and even Rosmerta joined us. What stopped us was what we found ¨C a single tall woman in a cloak of raven feathers. She was leading a group of three small boys. Two of the boys clasped her hands, and the smallest rode on her shoulders.


    ¡°I bring you a gift, Sulis daughter of Fand,¡± the raven-cloaked one said. ¡°These hatchlings have spent their time in the nest and it is time for them to learn to take the flight they were born for, but never could there. She nudged the boy on her right to step forward and let go of his hand. ¡°This is Gwalch. No hawk is fiercer.¡± Next, she did the boy on her left. ¡°And this is Bedwyr, strong in protection.¡± Finally she took the boy off of her shoulders. ¡°Here, I present you Artur. He may be the smallest of the three, but he has the heart of a bear. Raise them well, and your blighted land will bloom even brighter than before. Perhaps there is a time when they will need to return from where they came from, but until then, I will leave them with you.¡±


    She made a sign of blessing, and with that, she disappeared into a cloud of purple light. I have always wondered who this raven queen was who gifted us with the Birch, the Hawk and the Bear. Perhaps one day, I will find out.


    Memories of a Long Life, by Sulis, Oldest of the White Circle.


    Old she might be, but her steps were firm and certain. The Oldest walked a narrow trail cut into the rock as the wind-driven snow fell. The trail ran from from near the dock where she and her attendants had landed up towards the mountain that was the goal of her journey.


    The wind tugged at her hood and cloak, and the snow dusted her shoulders. Even so, she moved on steadily, ignoring the wind and the white, leaving her attendants to keep up with her the best they could.


    ¡°Is she always like this?¡± Arriane asked her companion.


    Sammisa, another member of the White Circle and one of the Oldest¡¯s inner confidants walked beside the young woman. Both of them were dressed in heavy cloaks and fur against the wind, their heads hooded, their ice boots crunching the snow as they moved.


    ¡°You were her student, Arriane. What do you think?¡± A gust of wind whipped her cloak behind her.


    ¡°I think that when the Oldest knows what she wants to do, she has enough power and experience to get it done, one way or the other,¡± Arriane said. A gust of wind lifted up the hem of cloak. She pulled the garment around her even more tightly. ¡°But it would have been nice if we could have come here by web, instead of boat and walking.¡±


    ¡°It would be, except for the no-space block on the whole area,¡± Sammisa said. ¡°Berlit¡¯s Island is special, with a lot of anti-magic overlaid on it. This is a place they have...special...talks, and blocking no-space makes it that more secure.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I guess,¡± Arriane said bending her head a little lower as she leaned into the wind. She stepped on a snow covered piece of broken branch and almost stumbled, but her companion reached out a hand and caught her by the arm to steady her.


    ¡°If your hands can handle it, grab the railing,¡± Sammisa said. ¡°That¡¯s what it¡¯s there for.¡± She pointed to the magically ice-free railing that marked the path, making it clear even through the snow.


    Arriane nodded and put one mittened hand on the railing. After making sure the younger woman following the railing, Sammisa tucked her own mittened hands deeper inside of her winter wrap and trudged along side of her.


    ¡°Sadly, using the railing is too cold for me. I myself think that we Lake people were not designed for this type of weather.¡± She sighed. ¡°We usually spend the winter in our underwater homes, safe from the wind, and if the lakes freeze over, that just means things get snugger.¡±


    ¡°How do you get out if the lake freezes over?¡±


    Sammisa turned and gave her a small, slightly wicked smile. ¡°It¡¯s a secret of my people. We have our means, but don¡¯t think we can¡¯t get out. We¡¯re just smart enough to know when to stay out of the weather.¡±


    Arriane looked ahead at the figure of the Oldest fading into the snow ahead of them. ¡°Looks like we better hurry. She¡¯s getting way ahead of us.¡±


    ¡°The Oldest has walked this path too many times to lose her way, too in tune to the goal to be swayed right or left,¡± Sammisa said. ¡°I¡¯d be lost for sure sometimes if it wasn¡¯t for the railing, like when it fogs up when we come here, but she never hesitates.¡±


    ¡°I wonder how many times she¡¯s walked it?¡± Arriane asked.


    ¡°How long as the Bear been king?¡± Sammisa asked. ¡°That¡¯s how many years she¡¯s come here.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a long time,¡± the younger woman said.


    ¡°Yes it is.¡±


    ¡°So what are we really doing here today?¡± Arriane asked.


    ¡°Well, after the Winter Solstice, the Oldest starts to have meetings with people, people from the Court, other groups on the White Isle to decide if there¡¯s something the White Circle should focus in on. This is where it starts,¡± Sammisa said, looking up at the sky, seeing the cascade of flakes heading down upon their heads. ¡°Although it doesn¡¯t usually snow this much. Sometimes, not at all until we¡¯re almost top.¡±


    ¡°Lucky us,¡± Arriane muttered.


    They continued walking, hurrying up to catch up with their mentor. At times they got close, but she always managed to stay a little bit ahead of them. Finally, at the edge of a line of snow-burdened pine trees, they reached a small shelter.


    The Oldest was there, waiting. ¡°So you two managed it?¡±


    ¡°Did you doubt us?¡± Sammisa asked.


    ¡°No, not really, although this is a first for you, Arriane. You did well. It is a long hike and the weather was hard. But stamina is important for a member of the White Circle. And fortitude.¡± She gave the younger woman a nod. ¡°Let¡¯s go inside,¡± she said. ¡°We¡¯ve done enough proving ourselves against the cold.¡± She pushed the shelter door open.


    ¡°That was well?¡± Arriane said. ¡°We never did catch up to her.¡±


    ¡°Well, you never fell into the snow, or got lost, and never let the Oldest really get fully out of sight, even with the snowfall,¡± Sammisa said. ¡°That¡¯s more than a lot of first timers do,¡± she continued. ¡°It¡¯s a long walk on a hard path, and it¡¯s one of the things the Oldest uses to assess people. Don¡¯t even ask me how poorly I did the first time I made this walk. I¡¯ve always been amazed she took me on after that. Let¡¯s go get warm.¡±


    They walked through the door.


    Inside was a bench and a row of pegs, some already holding cloaks, and a fireplace in one corner. A heavy wooden door stood closed on the far side of the room.


    ¡°Ah, this feels good,¡± Sammisa, walking towards the fire. ¡°It¡¯s almost worth the walk here. His people must have gotten here early enough to get the chill out.¡±


    ¡°So we¡¯re not the first here?¡± Arriane said. She removed her cloak and hung it on a peg next to a fine cloak decorated with metallic thread and good fur.


    ¡°We never are,¡± the Oldest said as she unfastened her cloak, revealing the white robe of her office beneath it. She hung it up next to Arriane¡¯s. ¡°Technically, we¡¯re the invitees, so they make sure all is ready first.¡±


    ¡°And it¡¯s always nice and warm by the time we arrive,¡± Sammisa said, slipping out of her snow boots.


    The Oldest nodded. ¡°Except when it¡¯s hot outside, though we don¡¯t meet here in the summer very often.¡± She too sat down on the bench and took off her snow boots.


    ¡°Why did you ask us to come, Oldest?¡± Arriane asked. ¡°Are we just your ceremonial attendants, or is there some other thing I should know about.¡±


    The Oldest smiled, then glanced over at Sammisa. ¡°See, I told you she was a clever one. Yes, you two are my ceremonial attendants. But yes, there is more to it than just that. Pay attention. Listen. Observe. Sense everything you can. When we get back to the ship, you will write down everything you can about the meeting ¨C whoever shows up, even if they too are only ceremonial attendants, your impressions of how they carry themselves, their ease or unease, the topics you hear. And when we return to the White Island, we¡¯ll have a meeting and discuss that. Three minds, three sets of eyes, three pairs of ears catch more than just one.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯ll try to distract us with food, and light talk, and a warm place to wait,¡± Sammisa said. ¡°Don¡¯t be too fooled, even if they offer you cheese from Whitecross or dates from Harani. And they will. But feel free to distract them as much as you can.¡±


    Arriane arched an eyebrow. ¡°It sounds like this is some game you play with his people.¡±


    ¡°Well, maybe a little,¡± Sammisa.


    The oldest stood up. ¡°Are we ready?¡±


    Sammisa nodded. The three headed to the closed door. That door revealed a circular staircase heading down, a narrow spiral space of polished stone floor and rough stone walls lit by what appeared to be dragonflame lamps attached to the walls. The space was cold, in spite of the lamps, and a soft wind lifted from bottom to top. The Oldest, in her white robes of office, her hood pulled up over her head paid that no mind and headed down the steps, moving almost ghost like with each step, her feet making no noise as she moved. The other two followed quickly behind, not quite as quiet. Sammisa stubbed a toe on one step and called out, her voice echoing.


    ¡°It¡¯s a good thing we¡¯re expected,¡± the Oldest said. ¡°You need some more work on your stealth ability, child.¡±


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡°Alas, we Lake People are known for our beauty and grace and cattle, not our stealth,¡± Sammisa said. ¡°But we have excellent memories.¡±


    ¡°And that is one of the reasons you are here today,¡± the Oldest said, nodding. ¡°If we really needed stealth, I would have called on Ruell, but I need your memory more. Let¡¯s continue.¡±


    At the bottom of the stairs, the hall turned sharply left. There was one final door, a door of heavy oak, adorned with a large circle outlined in gold. It had no handle, and it tingled with a barely discernible energy. The oldest placed her hand on the circle, and it began to brighten, its light radiating out, cascading over her, revealing her brilliant blue eyes. Satisfied, the light faded and the door swung open.


    ¡°What type of lock was that?¡± Arriane asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s keyed to very few people,¡± Sammisa said. ¡°Neither you nor I could ever open it, and if we tried, both the door upstairs and this one would trap us in the stairwell.¡±


    Arriane decided she didn¡¯t like the image that brought up. ¡°Has something like that ever happened?¡±


    ¡°Once,¡± the Oldest said. ¡°Nobody else was here at the time. It¡¯s a sad story.¡±


    The young woman shuddered, but followed the other two women inside.


    Immediately, they left the cold and any thoughts of entrapment behind. Beyond the door, the space they walked into was warm and inviting. The room was paneled in fine wood, with colored filigree work in silver and the colors of nature, greens, blues, reds, a scattering of tree and leaf and flower shapes decorating it, like arching spring trees.


    ¡°It looks like my home at Allynswood,¡± Arrianne whispered.


    ¡°Only the best for the members of the royal court, after all,¡± Sammisa replied.


    There was a fireplace along one wall, with a cheery blaze burning, and a table drawn up before it, with a carafe of wine and a basket of breads and cheese. No sunlight penetrated this deep, but the light from hidden sources filled the room with the light of a late autumn afternoon, warm and honeyed.


    ¡°Welcome, Lady,¡± said a warm voice, a man¡¯s voice.


    The Oldest pulled back her hood to reveal long silver hair pulled into a severe braided bun, her hair fastened in place with a silver diadem. She stepped deeper into the room and acknowledged her welcomer with a simple nod.


    He stood up from his seat near the fire. He was taller than she, by a good head, with long hair that fell in tight ringlets over his shoulders, and a neatly trimmed beard. His smile was warm, but his own eyes gave nothing away.


    ¡°Greetings, Birch,¡± she said.


    ¡°You made it through the snow, I see,¡± he said.


    ¡°As I always do.¡±


    ¡°And you brought the lovely Sammisa with you to remember all the details, I see,¡± he said, then turned to look at Arianne. ¡°And who is this? You look familiar. Have we met before?¡±


    Before Arriane could reply, the Oldest stepped forward and took a chair. ¡°You may have indeed seen her before, but not recently. This is Arriane Allyns, sister to Elaine Allyns, Lady of Allynswood.¡±


    He gave Arriane a nod of the head. ¡°Elaine Allyns¡¯ sister, the Allyns who married Gweir Blackthorne?¡±


    Arriane nodded, wiggling her fingers nervously in her fists.


    ¡°I do believe we have met, at your sister¡¯s wedding, in fact, but you were a bit younger.¡± The Birch looked back towards the Oldest. ¡°A new recruit of yours?¡±


    ¡°Possibly, if you don¡¯t frighten her away.¡± She turned towards Arriane. ¡°Arriane, meet Bedwyr, the righthand advisor to the Bear. We call him the Birch, because the birch is the foremost tree of protection. He does work for the king similar to what the White Circle does,¡± she said, and then turned back to Bedwyr, ¡°although not exactly in the same way or with the same methods that we use. Still, I start the cycle of the year speaking with him. Our foremost purpose is to guard the Sunlit Lands, his way and mine.¡±


    ¡°I remember you,¡± Arriane said. ¡°I hid behind my father when you came to speak with my sister at her wedding. You were so tall, I didn¡¯t know if you were Sidhe or a giant.¡±


    The Birch chuckled. ¡°I haven¡¯t gotten any shorter. Am I still a giant?¡±


    Arriane dropped her face, her cheeks pinking a little. ¡°Maybe, maybe I grew up a bit?¡±


    ¡°Maybe so, child. Don¡¯t let me terrify you any more. If the Oldest brought you here, she must think highly of you. Now you and Lady Sammisa, give me a little of the Oldest¡¯s time. I¡¯ll call you back soon enough where we can go over all the details you so love to report on, but for now, I need to speak to her alone.¡±


    The two younger women looked at their leader, and she nodded.


    ¡°Good.¡± He motioned to a man dressed in a formal military uniform. ¡°Rus, take these two lovely guests to the other room. Be sure the rest of the men act on their best behavior. And be sure to share some of that Whitecross cheese with them.¡±


    Arriane smiled at Sammisa when he said that. But together, they followed the soldier out through a door to the left.


    The room fell quiet as their footsteps echoed out of the door.


    The Oldest turned to the Birch. ¡°How many times now have we met this day, this place?¡± She stood up then walked in front of the fireplace, stretched out her hands to warm them. Her fingers were long and slender, unscarred and only lightly callused from all the various types of work she had done over her very long life. The only noteworthy mark on them was a small sigil in the form of a round circle on her right pinkie finger.


    ¡°Many,¡± Birch said. ¡°Too many to count. We started this about a decade after the Bear took over your throne, my Queen.¡±


    She shook her head. ¡°Do not call me that. I am nobody¡¯s queen. I am¡­.¡± She sighed, trying to find the right words.


    ¡°You are?¡± Birch asked. He poured a small glass of wine, and handed it to her, poured another for himself.


    ¡°I am too restless and curious to ever make a queen except to hold it for a better ruler. The Bear, he does a good job, does he not?¡±


    He nodded, and took a seat. ¡°He was an excellent choice, Lady. Stalwart. Willing to listen. Able to delegate. Wise in his way.¡±


    ¡°Wise enough to keep friends like you at his side, Birch.¡± She joined him sitting, choosing a seat next to the fire where she could face him.


    ¡°You do me honor, Lady.¡± He took a sip of the wine.


    ¡°No more than it is due. I watched all of you grow up, Bear, you, Hawk, I saw to your training. You were all arrows in my quiver, all, even Hawk with his anger and focus. Day by day, I saw how you grew into your strengths. Still, in the end, I knew I was the arrow that needed to be launched to leave you to all to do the dirty work of running things.¡±


    He reached over and put the wine glass on the table, ¡°Did you ever regret it, Lady?¡± His eyes were probing, bright blue beams. Lesser beings had melted under that glance, but she merely smiled, as he expected.


    ¡°No.¡± She shook her head. ¡°Well maybe I doubted, a bit, when he bound himself to White Wave, thinking that perhaps it was you who I should have laid the burden on, but even that has turned out well.¡±


    ¡°It has.¡± Birch nodded in agreement. ¡°And I am glad for your decision. I was not cut out to be king. And she makes an excellent queen. Even after the troubles.¡±


    She took another sip of her wine. ¡°Yes, I had my doubts how that would turned out, but she seems loved more now than ever.¡±


    ¡°She has a deft hand with the Aos Darion and the other lesser folk,¡± he said.


    ¡°And the rest of the court?¡± she asked. ¡°What is your reading?¡±


    ¡°I am sure you have your own sources as to how things are going.¡±


    ¡°Ah, but I want to see it through your eyes.¡± She stood up, walked over to the table. She picked up the cheese knife, and cut a slice.


    ¡°The Hawk is a hawk, swooping around the land, looking for enemies.¡±


    ¡°When has he not?¡± she asked. She reached for a slice of bread.


    ¡°True, true,¡± Birch picked up his wine glass. ¡°It is his gift, your warrior arrow, so to say. But perhaps thanks to him, the barriers around the Boundary Lands hold still. The Dark Queen stays in the Shadowlands and Lady Bercha¡¯s hunt stays where it belongs most of the time. We are certain the Dragon Web is trading weapons with them, but when have they not?¡±


    ¡°When indeed? Longer than any of you would remember. And no doubt the trade runs both ways. Jared Redbeard of the Bullrushes has always turned an unseeing eye there, especially if there was profit, as did his father. The Shadowlands mean gold to him. Black silk, fine steel, dream flower still the popular goods?¡±


    ¡°Among others. There are fashions in these things. Pots made by the Bannik are all the rage this year. Daggers from the Snake folk.¡±


    ¡°Poison in their bite, no doubt.¡±


    ¡°But of course,¡± Birch said. ¡°Very popular with those young men who like to take offense too quickly.¡±


    ¡°And so the world goes around like it always has,¡± the Oldest said. ¡°So what is this uneasiness I feel? It¡¯s like the world is holding its breath.¡±


    ¡°You too, Lady?¡±


    ¡°You were always the most sensitive of my students.¡±


    ¡°Something¡­.there are ripples of tension in the ether. There are rumors.¡± Birch shrugged.


    ¡°There are always rumors. You, as Master of Secrets, know that.¡±


    He laughed. ¡°And you, as Oldest of the White Circle, watch them develop. And prepare us.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s something the Dragons are hiding, I know that much.¡± The oldest reached toward the basket, took out a piece of flatbread, snapped it in half. ¡°Something big, I think.¡±


    Birch nodded. ¡°People have been disappearing. Enough now to notice. And they aren¡¯t Dragons, but all have had connections to no-space.¡±


    ¡°A rumor reached me yesterday, that the old King Dragon stirred in his magic sleep. You know how they react when he stirs. They believe one of their number might be trespassing their pact.¡±


    ¡°Is it true?¡± he asked?


    The Oldest shrugged. ¡°But we will know soon. You know the signs.¡±


    ¡°I will increase vigilance,¡± the Birch said.


    ¡°Soon it will be Brightening Day. Perhaps the Seer of the Well of Fate will help us learn something.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps.¡± Birch took a sip of his wine. His tone was doubtful. ¡°I leave the deep magics to you.¡±


    <hr>


    The end of the raid was a foregone conclusion, although getting there had taken real work.


    It had started with a word from Jared Redbeard himself. Evidently someone had gotten on his bad side or was cutting him out of the profits. Either way, it didn¡¯t matter. Both Redbeard and the King¡¯s guard felt the threat from what was being offered for trade.


    Arrangements were made for the deal. The smuggler thought he was dealing with Rogan of the Shadowlands, front man for Gwri Wollfhead, a prince of the Dogheads. It was true they dealt with Rogan, but at this moment, he was more concerned about his family safe in the bosom of Redbeard¡¯s keep and what would happen to them and his particular clan if it was found out he ever dealt again with persons not approved of by the Bullrushes. The deal was made. A location for delivery and payment was determined.


    This benighted place was chosen - barren, rocky, and far away from the gates and the King¡¯s Guard. Evidently it had been used before.


    Gweir sat under the shade of one of the rare trees growing in this blighted land. The area was at the bottom of a shallow canyon, but it was enough to bring moisture to support a few growing things. He was surrounded a group of seven men, all like him dressed in the robes of Shadowlanders who could not handle sunlight and swathed themselves from head to foot in yards of a rough white cloth.


    Scattered around the broken land, more of his men were waiting for him to give the signal. Three Magic Guard adepts, having shed their regular uniforms for the same robes the rest of them wore, stood in the back, already creating the no-jump field they would need to maintain for the whole operation.


    Now, it was time to wait.


    Ruthan, the spotter, reported. ¡°Someone¡¯s coming. Three animals, horses by the look of them, five persons. ¡°Almost here.¡±


    ¡°Knowing this group, don¡¯t be surprised if the animals are Kelpies or worse. They¡¯ll turn into two armed fighters in a blink of an eye. So count¡¯em as eight,¡± said the man at Gweir¡¯s right hand.


    ¡°No doubt.¡± Gweir waved a bright red cloth, the first signal to his hidden men. ¡°Bring out Rogan.¡±


    The Shadowlander was marched out of tent at the back.


    ¡°You know what you need to do,¡± Gweir said.


    ¡°Yes, yes, Master,¡± he said. His tones were sibilant, almost a hiss, but not in anger, more with a touch of fear. He was swathed in dull green cloth. His face was concealed by a deep hood.


    ¡°Remember Master Jared¡¯s promises ¨C both if you succeed, and if you fail. I do not think he is a kindly man, but he is known for for following up on his promises, and his threats.¡±


    The Shadowlander nodded. ¡°You have a bag of the trade goods? He will want to see a sample of the goods.


    Gweir lifted up a large leather bag. ¡°Right here.¡±


    ¡°Then we¡¯re ready. If your men are ready.¡±


    Gweir¡¯s robed men made a semi-circle as the smugglers began to file into the camp site.


    The group was mixed, two Daoine from their looks, armed with sword and armored. A bogart with a heavy sword, felt hat pulled to one side half hiding his scarred left eye, a Lake Man with green hair. A Bogle woman, who looked at the camp with burning, angry eyes.


    The horses, laden with bags, for the moment only looked like horses.


    ¡°You have made it, Singlas,¡± said Rogan. ¡°I was about to break camp.¡±


    ¡°Now you wouldn¡¯t want to do that. What would Lord Gwri say?¡±


    ¡°That the Daoine acted like Daoine, teasing us once again.¡±


    The Bogle woman stepped up. ¡°Let me take care of him, Master Singlas.¡±


    ¡°No, no, Briane. We were a bit late, after all,¡± Singlas said. His voice was oily. ¡°Perhaps he thinks he can find these precious things in Gresholt¡¯s Keep? Perhaps he wants to go ask Dragonkin Shulan to ship them in for him?¡± He laughed, but the rest of his crew merely frowned at the Twilight person.


    ¡°Show me your goods,¡± Rogan said.


    ¡°Right to business, is it?¡± Singlas said. ¡°I like that in a customer.¡±


    He walked over to the first horse, opened one of the saddle bags, ¡°Enough jump stones for a company of Dogheads. Rogan walked up and took one out. It looked like a small polished slab of stone, surrounded in a metal frame.


    ¡°All these are blanks.¡± He nodded to the other Daoine. ¡°Bring the key device.¡±


    The man went to the last horse, and brought out a small box. ¡°You put the stones in this box, activate the touchstone, and speak the name of your destination. I suggest you do half your stones with the destination and the other half with the return. It¡¯s impossible right now to get two way stones.¡±


    ¡°Excellent,¡± Rogan said.


    ¡°Now show me our payment.¡±


    Rogan held up his hand, and Gweir handed the bag to him. Rogan opened it with deft fingers.


    ¡°First quality dream dust,¡± the Shadowlander said. ¡°Six bags. Like we agreed.¡±


    Singlas took a very small pinch and put it on his tongue, ran his tongue into his cheek.


    ¡°Ah, first rate. Let¡¯s trade.¡±


    The smugglers began to unfasten the saddlebags. Suddenly, the group was surrounded by Gweir¡¯s troops. Gweir grabbed the Shadowlander Rogan, and handed him back to someone to move to the back. Surprisingly, none of the horses transformed. They were, after all, just horses.


    Three of the smugglers tried to invoke jump stones, but the no-jump field the Magic Guard people had set up held. The red-headed Daoine pulled out his sword, but the arrows aimed at him made him think twice, and he dropped his blade.


    Gweir took off his robes, and walked up to Singlas. ¡°I think Jared Redbeard wants to have a talk with you.¡±


    ¡°You know you can¡¯t stop us all,¡± Singlas said as his hands were bound.


    ¡°I stopped you. That¡¯s all that matters today.¡±

 Day 8 of the Ice Month

    Chapter 5


    To the west, beyond Harani, in the deep desert is a place we call the Lost Lands; others call them the Gray Lands. There is a huge magical anomaly there, perhaps a relic of the Great War and the Sundering, too far off the normal paths that people travel that the White Circle and all the other forces who scoured the land to restore the world after that missed it. Or perhaps it was beyond their power to deal with. We do not have deep access into the old archives of the White Island here at the DIC.


    The biggest feature of this area is that it is a giant no-space block. If you try to fly there by native means, you will tumble out of the sky and none of our jump devices have been able to return people from the zone. Oddly enough, they will allow you to transport there, even though it¡¯s a one way trip.


    The area is surrounded by mineral rich mountains, but there is no practical way to use it as part of any trade network. The local production of minerals such as griffin¡¯s bloodstone and black opal, although highly valued by some, is not considered economically valuable enough to mine directly by either the Trade or Exploration divisions, due to logistics, and the fear that the high value of the goods would be undercut by a larger supply. Rumors of using the zone by Transportation to eliminate undesirables so far have proven to be nothing but rumors, although the DIC is keeping that under observation. The DIC has therefore marked the area Highly Avoid unless you can set up a supply cache at the Runi Blahn or Zathron oasises, and be prepared to caravan in.


    -DIC Operations Manual, Hazards Section


    Violetta Greenleaf sat at a table under a deep awning, looking at the brown, forbidding landscape in front of her. The area, guaranteed at least some shade most of the day, a precious commodity in this sun-beaten land. The hosts of the inn she was staying out had figured out its value long ago, and scattered tables with their seats filled the area, but she was the only customer there for the moment. A bored Peri woman, occasionally fluttering her wings, sat behind a counter, ready to take any orders she or any newcomer might have, but Runi Blahn was not known as much of a tourist destination, and she had the view of the desert to herself. As far as she knew, she was the only person at the town¡¯s one inn who was there for something other than business in the rare minerals the locals dealt in. Later, at lunch time, a few visitors would likely come straggling out, but midmorning was too early for anybody who had work to do to take in the sights.


    She sighed, and pulled a light shawl over her shoulders a little closer. It was not hot; no, even this place did not get hot in the month of Ice, although the air wasn¡¯t particularly cool, either, but thinking of what she wanted to do while staring at the daunting landscape put a chill in her heart. The land rolled out in front of her. Near the inn there were shrubs and desert-loving flowers, but that quickly trickled off with the area that was regularly water making a boundary. Off in the distance she could make out the lone road that headed into the deep desert, and far away, almost more as a suggestion than a reality, a line of mountains. The sunlight, even at midmorning beat down on the landscape, with almost nothing but the occasional large boulder to cast any shadow. In places where there was shadow, or a depression, she could make out small stands of some gray-green vegetation, more stick than leaf; everything else was rock and sand. Overhead, across the blue sky, a large bird circled, riding the air as it searched for something. There was not even a wisp of cloud.


    She took a long sip of the tall drink in front of her, a watery drink flavored with some acid fruit. ¡°Even looking at it makes me thirsty,¡± she muttered.


    Chimes rang as the door to the patio opened. Footsteps echoed on the stone floor growing closer until they were right behind her, but she did not turn to look.


    ¡°There¡¯s something about the view here, is there not?¡± a warm, deep male voice said. ¡°Intimidating, yet challenging, awe inspiring, yet frightening. ¡®You were not made for me,¡¯ the desert whispers. ¡®I dare you to find out my secrets,¡¯ as if it knows that to the desert-called, the dare would be irresistible.¡±


    ¡°Ah, Xhindi, you found me,¡± Violetta said. A brief flash of interest crossed her face, and she pushed a strand of dark red hair off her forehead.


    He continued to stand behind her. ¡°It wasn¡¯t hard. There are only very few places where visitors to our little town can go. I told you we would discuss our business this morning, and I knew where you were staying. But I wasn¡¯t expecting you to be staring out at the desert. Does it call to you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure if it calls me or frightens me. It sounds like it calls to you loudly enough, though.¡± Violetta said. She templed her fingers together. ¡°It has something...I¡¯ve been to the Boundary Lands, mostly desert, but this...¡±


    ¡°Yes, there is something different about it. Many people react that way, with both fear and attraction. Yes, that is how it works. Choose wrongly, and you die, but still it calls. It does to all my people, we jinn. We are children of the air and fire. Some say it was the birthplace, where the first jinn stepped out of the fire and smoke to walk upon its sands. And like all of us, from time to time, I am called to return to our roots.¡± He stepped forward to stand beside her. ¡°I don¡¯t know if the people on the White Island would agree with our stories.¡±


    She looked up at the darkened man, with piercing black eyes and curly black hair and a long mustache. He wore flowing white robes and a broad waist sash, with a jeweled knife scabbard tucked into it. Not for him the blue eyes of the Aos Daoine, but no person would consider him a member of the less powerful races. His aura radiated power, as someone from a jinn bloodline ought to.


    ¡°They can¡¯t know everything,¡± she said, nodding. ¡°So is that the reason you run the caravans to the mines?¡± she asked.


    He chuckled a little. ¡°Maybe. And the pay. And a chance to see the Anzu bird flying overhead, or fight with any Lilus who choose to pester us on our way.¡± He crossed his arms. ¡°It¡¯s been the life I was born for, I think.¡±


    ¡°Maybe so,¡± Violetta replied.


    ¡°Still, I am not sure what brings you here. It is rare that someone from Blackstone and Flysch would take the time to visit our humble little town. They are usually content to let one of the little companies handle all the business on this side of Harani, like Borson, and even they don¡¯t send any more dragonkin than necessary. And to send someone of the Daoine here instead of a dragon ¨C I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever heard of that. And then to ask for the assistance of a caravan leader...¡±


    ¡°True enough. Sit down, please,¡± Violetta said.


    ¡°If you wish,¡± said the jinn. He pulled out a chair and settled down next to her.


    ¡°Like I told you last night, I am not here on official business. I¡¯m here because I am looking for the answer to a puzzle.¡± She took a sip from her drink. ¡°Someone I know went into the desert.¡±


    ¡°Did he now, even knowing how hard it is to travel here?¡± Xhindi asked.


    ¡°Yes, yes. He had chosen Xendo¡¯s Delving as a place to do some research. He wanted a place that would be safe, let us say, for explosions.¡± A breeze blew up, dry and if not yet hot, promising to take all the moisture it could. It lifted the corner of her shawl, making it flutter slightly and caused the bars on wind chimes hung on the edge of the patio awning to jingle.


    The jinni raised an eyebrow. ¡°Explosions, eh? I suspect if they exploded in the right way and at the right place, the miners there wouldn¡¯t have minded at all.¡±


    She took another sip of her drink. ¡°I know he made it to the site, because he sent word. Then word got out that the excavators had found an unusual...artifact, perhaps from the Sundering, and a team of Fireburners with a group of Magic Corp investigators descended on the site. But they weren¡¯t the only ones.¡±


    Xhindi nodded, frowning. ¡°I remember hearing about that expedition. It was a bit of a mess.¡±


    ¡°If you want to say an attack by a tribe of Huwawa under a Gallu general is a bit of a mess,¡± Violetta said, giving him a questioning looking. ¡°I would have chosen perhaps a stronger word.¡±


    He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to make light of it. That situation has...painful memories for me. I was at Aufzee¡¯s Freehold when they attacked, too far away to help, but I lost a blood brother and friends in that fight. There were good people escorting the Daoine. Otherwise there would have been no survivors to bear the tale.¡± He took another deep breath, and smoothed his face. ¡°What happened to your friend?¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t know.¡± Violetta played with her drinking glass, spinning it around. ¡°They never found his body. He might have escaped, or even...been taken away.¡±


    Xhindi set his mouth firm and gave a small nod. ¡°I will hope on escape. What the Gallu and such do with prisoners ¨C well, I won¡¯t ruin today talking about it. They are as bad if not worse than the Shadowlanders. So you are hoping to find some clue, even after all the work done by the White Circle?¡±


    ¡°And the DIC, too. My friend was Dragonkin, not Daoine.¡±


    Xhindi raised his eyebrows at that. ¡°That¡¯s unusual.¡±


    She shrugged. ¡°I work for Blackstone and Flysch. I see more Dragonkin on a daily basis than any other race.¡±


    He rested his palms flat on the table. It wobbled slightly under the pressure. ¡°I wasn¡¯t criticizing you, Violetta Greenleaf. I was merely surprised. My experiences have taught me that Dragonkin and Daoine aren¡¯t exactly comfortable with each other.¡±


    Violetta nodded. ¡°Anyway, in his last message before the disaster, he told me he had left a package for me at Xendo¡¯s Delving, buried under a special ward, and how to find it. This is why I contacted you. Can you take me there?¡±


    ¡°You think it¡¯s still there? The mine was really damaged by the attack, and there are only a few wildcat miners out there any more, an old Spriggan and one or two Knockers, and they¡¯ve gone through everything they could looking to make a few coins.¡±


    ¡°We won¡¯t know until I get there. If the ward held, it¡¯s probably still there.¡± She took another sip of her drink. ¡°The question not will I be successful, though. The question is will you do it, get me there and back?¡±


    He gazed out at the desert, contemplating his strange customer and the ruins they would find. Finally he nodded. ¡°For the right fee.¡±


    ¡°I would expect no less. That¡¯s another thing I¡¯ve learned at Blackstone and Flysch. Shall we go inside, and write up the contract?¡±


    <hr>


    Thin early spring sunlight filtered into the room. The school grounds in Comrie were incredibly quiet. It was students¡¯ day off, but this room was a hive of activity. It was an office of sorts, but one being deconstructed, with a big desk against one wall, some partially filled bookcases against another, a fireplace in the corner. One long table filled with papers in neat stacks, exercise books, odd objects like rocks and spoons and jars of pens and pencils. A carving of a bird. A wooden doll like artists use. In between the objects were gaps and rings of dust where objects had been moved. There were several wooden crates stacked on the floor. Gaps on the wall showed where hangings had been removed. There was a scattering of packing dust and paper on the floor.


    ¡°It¡¯s so quiet when the children are gone,¡± said a tall, stately woman with flowing green hair. She was sitting in the only chair without a box on it.


    ¡°It¡¯ll be noisy soon enough, Melusine,¡± said the other woman. ¡°I¡¯m lucky I can do this while they¡¯re gone.¡± Short and sturdy, her hair tied up in a neat bun and covered with a scarf that accentuated her Bauchan-like ears, she was wrapping a small curio in a bit of cloth before she packed it carefully into a box on one of the chairs. One could have confused her for a cleaning woman if you didn¡¯t know her, with her apron and work sleeves. She looked up at her companion with the bright blue eyes of the high Daoine, eyes a color that never appeared in true Bauchan stock. ¡°The day after tomorrow will come and then there¡¯ll be all the noise you could want.¡±


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    ¡°But it won¡¯t be the same,¡± Melusine replied, sighing. She stretched her fingers on the edge of the desk, long and graceful, with the slight webbing between each that the Lake Folk have, being proper water beings, then rubbed one nail in need of manicuring. ¡°There will be someone missing.¡± She breathed on the errant fingernail, and a bit of bright light surrounded it. When it dissipated, it was as perfect as the others. ¡°So you¡¯re sure, Gan? This is what you really want to do?¡±


    Gan Thistleberry, still officially headmistress of the elementary levels of Gwaher¡¯s School of Grammarie, Magick and Practical Rhetoric, although not for long, looked over her bookcase one more time. She reached for a volume. ¡°Ah, I knew you were there!¡± She pulled down a volume labeled Old Hyrum¡¯s Introductions Into Practical Magics for the Young and put it into a wooden crate.


    She dusted off her hands on the hem of her apron, brushed a strand of hair out of her face. ¡°I think that¡¯s about it. Most of the rest of the books belong to the school, Melusine, and the Lifegiver knows I don¡¯t want to drag them all over creation. I hope you find them more useful than I did.¡±


    ¡°Oh, Gan. What am I ever going to do? What do I know about being headmistress?¡± Melusine said, anxious and sad and wistful all at the same time.


    ¡°It¡¯s mostly what you¡¯ve been doing all along anyway, with a little more paperwork,¡± Gan said. She patted the book she just put away.


    ¡°That¡¯s easy for you to say,¡±Melusine said, resting her head in her left hand. ¡°You always made it look so easy. What do I know about schedules and overseeing this mad group? Putting up with the administrators when they come poking around? Dealing with parents who are sure their child is far more talented than their grade reports?¡± She drew idle circles with her right hand on the desk. Beads of light followed in their wake.


    ¡°Best not teach the little ones that trick,¡± Gan said, smiling, and patted Melusine¡¯s anxious hand. ¡°The cleaning folk will have too much decontamination to do each night.¡±


    ¡°It is a bad habit of mine,¡± the Lake Folk woman said. She tucked her hand under the desk.


    This made Gan laugh, a pleasant, not hurtful sound. ¡°You¡¯ll do fine, Melusine. And I¡¯m sure the board of directors will be happy having someone who looks like such a worthy High Daoine be leading their elementary classes instead of someone who looks like a fishwife.¡±


    ¡°Gan, don¡¯t talk like that. You¡¯ve been wonderful at this job. ¡±


    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t try to hide it. They¡¯ve never been comfortable with a mere Thistleberry leading the department. After all, Master Gwaher¡¯s School is one of the first rank schools in An Lar. It doesn¡¯t matter to the Redwing Clan what my qualifications are. I could have more qualifications than Queen White Wave. I just never looked the part. And they let me know it, over and over.¡±


    ¡°But you¡¯re the best one of us!¡± Melusine said, a bit outraged at Gan putting herself down this way. ¡°You¡¯ve had more papers published, and have done more presentations than anybody else on staff, even Mr. High and Mighty Grendal himself.¡±


    ¡°Just look at the two of honestly, Melusine! You¡¯re sitting there, all golden and willowy, dressed in a fine silken robe that dances with every move you make, like water rippling on your home lake. Look at me!¡± Gan took the edges of her apron and gave a little curtsy. ¡°A plain gray winter wool dress. Solid, comfortable winter boots. Work sleeves to keep the dirt and ink off. When I wear silk, I look like, well, it¡¯s not shimmering and graceful. Wrong shape, wrong height, wrong everything. I can¡¯t present the right image. Their words, not mine.¡±


    ¡°But you are a Practical Magics specialist! Nobody outside of the White Isle knows more about Domestic Magics. You should look...well, practical. Master Gwaher picked you for just that reason!¡±


    ¡°But Master Gwaher isn¡¯t here any more.¡± Gan said, with a deep sigh. She lifted the box she had been filling and put it on floor, plopped down into the chair. ¡°And the school board of directors put Grendal in his place. And what he said at the staff meeting! Do you think we could work together, after what he said about the Practical courses? He¡¯s going to kill it, and push the teaching of touchstone amplifiers rather than teach the children how to harness their own magic the way it ought to be done. The direction he wants to take the lower grades, what¡¯s to come of our research budget? What does he think we¡¯re supposed to start the young ones on, Theoretical Metaphysical manipulations?¡±


    Melusine gave a sad smile. ¡°I know you¡¯re right, Gan. But don¡¯t you think you could even try?¡±


    ¡°Too late. He called me in already and demanded I resign. I¡¯m to be totally out of here by the end of tomorrow. Didn¡¯t even give me an option.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not really surprised, after that big dust up with the board members. I told you that wouldn¡¯t work.¡± Melusine sighed. ¡°They¡¯re mostly his clan. Maybe if I went and begged them...¡±


    Gan shook her head. ¡°Don¡¯t even try. Don¡¯t even ask Master Dor or anybody else you have pull with to try. What I learned talking to them - I thought they might care about the reputation of the school. But,¡± she said, sighing, ¡°I found out what they really want. They have notions of making this a Redwing Clan centerpoint. Quality won¡¯t matter so much, long as it¡¯s a famous place, or had been one, so their kin can send their children here, and bit by bit, it¡¯ll only be Redwings. Although what they¡¯ll learn after a few years of Grendal running it into the ground...How did Master Gwaher keep those monsters at arm¡¯s length for so long?¡±


    Melusine picked up a curio on the desk. It was a small figure that one of the students made years ago that Gan had taken a fancy to. She handed it to her friend, who quickly wrapped it. ¡°I think they were afraid of him.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m so glad that he wasn¡¯t here to see what Grendal has planned. For all his studies alone, he really did care about what happened to the students here.¡±


    ¡°They waited long enough to make a move. That tells you how much he cowed them.¡±


    ¡°Three years this spring,¡± Gan said. ¡°And we still don¡¯t know what happened to him.¡±


    ¡°And unless he manages to walk back into the school one day, we may never know.¡± Melusine sighed. ¡°Sometimes, magical researches can be so dangerous.¡±


    ¡°Especially in Theoretical mass movement.¡± Gan pulled another book off the shelf, looked at it for a moment, and reshelved it.


    ¡°Was that what he was working on?¡±


    Gan shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m guessing, but that was one of the areas he was very interested it.¡±


    ¡°So what are you going to do?¡± Melusine said.


    The small fey woman dusted off her hands and plopped into a chair. ¡°I¡¯ve been writing letters. If all goes well, I¡¯m leaving Comrie. I¡¯ll put my house up for sale and start fresh. Maybe write a book. It¡¯s time I took a break.¡±


    ¡°Oh Gan,¡± Melusine said. ¡°Where are you thinking about?


    ¡°I have a hankering to go back home for a while,¡± Gan said. ¡°It¡¯s been a long time since I¡¯ve been down that way.¡±


    ¡°To Brightwater down near the Boundary Lands? That¡¯s where your parents were, right, during the last outbreak?¡±


    Gan shook her head. ¡°Not there. I hope I never ever have to go back to that forsaken place. I¡¯m going to head to the south, perhaps. I grew up not far from Waterford by Glint. I have fond memories of that place. My old home town got wiped out by a forest fire when I was small. I haven¡¯t been back since. Maybe they¡¯ve rebuilt. Maybe I¡¯ll find a new home in my old home. If not, there are other towns near at hand. It¡¯s a nice part of the kingdom.¡±


    Melusine reached over the table and clasped the other woman¡¯s hand. ¡°I¡¯m going to miss you, Gan. Nobody was better at wiping runny noses than you were. Or fixing skinned knees. Or listening to all my troubles.¡±


    ¡°I have one bit of advice, Melusine.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°Get a good apron. It makes all the difference if you want to keep your beautiful dresses clean.¡±


    <hr>


    As the day moved into twilight, lamplighters made their rounds across the main streets, and lights glowed in the windows of the shops and bars. People began to fill the streets, some peddlers set up booths. This inversion of day and night was just more one of the unbalancing aspects of life here. He headed to the stairwell, passing the sentry, who saluted him sharply.


    As Gweir Blackthorn headed towards his offices, a gong announced the evening watch. The halls of the tower began to echo with footsteps as people moved to their night station, and the day staff, much fewer in number, headed to their evening rest. Marhault Hazelwood, Gweir¡¯s first officer was standing, looking out of window that caught a good view of the road leading up to the keep. A narrow stone paved road cut through the barrens. Legend said it was made by dragonfire, impervious to most things, but some things evidently had gotten to it. The pavement in place was patched with cobblestone and gravels. A few figures coming out of the growing shadows, began walking to the gate.


    ¡°I hate this bloody place,¡± Hazelwood said. ¡°Why¡¯d they put a gate like this in the damn border? We should have left the Shadowlanders totally locked up.¡±


    ¡°Just because they¡¯re Shadowlanders doesn¡¯t mean they¡¯re all the Dark Queen or Duke of the Dogheads,¡± Gweir said. ¡°Some have legitimate business. You like your Black Silk armor, don¡¯t you? That¡¯s all allowed trade.¡±


    ¡°Just as soon as wear mail if it meant I didn¡¯t have to stay here,¡± Goban Eagledown, his second officer said, joining them. ¡°Legitimate business. It¡¯s just cover for the smugglers, if you ask me. Snakesteel. Dreamdust.¡± He crossed his arms. ¡°And now there¡¯s the thread of unlicensed jump stones. Everybody selling any of that trash needs to be outted and banished. And the Bullrushes ought to be the first sent into the dark.¡±


    ¡°Maybe so, Gabon, but I suspect your real issue right now is you just don¡¯t like night duty,¡± Gweir said. ¡°And you¡¯re still tired from the raid yesterday. Well, we all are. But this is our first duty.¡± They had this discussion regularly.


    ¡°You¡¯re damn right I don¡¯t. It¡¯s not natural, to do business at night.


    ¡°It is if the sun kills you, or evaporates you, or turns you into stone,¡± Gweir replied, ¡°It¡¯s rather hard to do business any other time. Our job is to screen for smugglers, and make sure the Dragon Web portal stays safe.¡±


    ¡°Dragonkin don¡¯t need us. They can get away into no space no matter how many of us get killed. Besides, the sunlight doesn¡¯t evaporate the Dogheads, even if they don¡¯t like it,¡± Marlhaut said. ¡°Or all sorts of other folks there. So why night only? Better to ambush us, I say.¡±


    ¡°Doghead are warriors, not traders,¡± Gweir said. ¡°When they come out, blow the horn. I¡¯ve seen what they can do to a company of Daoine who get caught off guard. Not pretty.¡±


    ¡°Tell me about it. My mother¡¯s people were from Brightwater. They learned the hard way what the Dogheads can do,¡± Gabon said.


    With this cheery talk, the three men made their way to the executive offices.


    They were just getting to their desks when the next gong sounded, announcing the opening of the Great Gate for business. Suddenly, Gweir began to tingle. Long experience told him not to ignore it. It might be a minor, untrustworthy gift, but it had saved his skin more than once.


    ¡°Who¡¯s on duty at the gate tonight?¡± Gweir asked. The first traders would be almost to the gate. He could hear the mechanism groaning as the portcullis was being lifted. Shortly after that the drawbridge would be lowered. Soon there would be a queue of people stopping for inspection.


    ¡°Alandis, I believe, and Tobin,¡± Gabon said. ¡°They¡¯re at the front gatehouse. Cleanan and Glif will be manning the rear.¡±


    ¡°Do me a favor. Go send Ermid and Finnen to back them up,¡± Gweir said. ¡°It might be nothing, but I have that uneasy feeling tonight.¡±


    ¡°Never have known your uneasy feeling to go wrong,¡± Gabon said, standing up. ¡°Two enough?¡±


    ¡°Probably,¡± Gweir replied.


    Nodding, Gabon left to see about it. He left the door open. Across the courtyard, a group of people had gathered in front of the Dragonweb office, merchants and go-betweens ready to carry merchandise brought by the Shadowland traders to its destination in the Sunlit lands. They chatted among themselves while waiting. One or two gave the military group dark looks.


    ¡°Jumpy tonight, or do you know something?¡± Marlhaut asked.


    ¡°I don¡¯t have any real information, if that¡¯s what you¡¯re asking. So I guess it¡¯s jumpy. Still, I trust those feelings. It¡¯s saved our butts more than once. I¡¯ve been uneasy ever since we caught the smugglers last month, and after the raid yesterday...there¡¯s been more than enough time to organize something. I¡¯ve been expecting a revenge attack every night, but the feeling is extra-strong tonight.¡±


    Dylan, his attache, entered the office carrying a swath of papers and a tray of tea. ¡°Just in from the Dragon Web master, sir,¡± he said, handing the package over to Gweir. The post captain laid it on his desk and gratefully accepted the cup of tea.


    He was just beginning to open the package when the alarm gong sounded. Three strikes. An attack at the front of the gate passage.


    ¡°I knew it!¡± Gweir said, dropping the packet and grabbing his helm. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±


    The halls were echoing with footsteps and shouts as people reported to emergency positions and took action, Gweir included. Clerks took shelter in appointed places. Rooms were locked. Armored men headed to the posts.. Magic shields were activated. This happened often enough, there was no real sense of panic, but nobody treated it like a drill, either. As he moved, he could hear the back portcullis drop into place with a mighty groan. By the time he got down to the gate, it was all over. A doghead dressed like a Shadowland trader lay on the ground with three arrows in him. His long knife was on the floor, near his hand. Alandis, the right side gate guard, was bleeding, but standing. The front portcullis was down by now, but a few nervous but determined traders still stood in queue, hoping to get in. Those with more experience or fear had scattered to the public houses along the road, or further into the darkness.


    ¡°A doghead, eh? Gweir said, nudging the corpse with a boot. ¡°That¡¯s it, no more trade tonight,¡± he ordered. ¡°Guard, go on midlevel alert.¡±


    Voices shouted ¡°Clear the drawbridge! Clear the drawbridge!¡±


    Someone in the crowd started to argue, but his fellows tugged him away.


    Soon the drawbridge squealed and began to lift. A large banner was lowered announcing the closure of the gate to business.


    Gweir looked at the wounded guard. ¡°So what happened, Alandis?


    ¡°Stupid Doghead was acting like a porter for a merchant. Got in the room, pulled his knife out, I moved, but not quite fast enough.¡±


    ¡°Did he say anything?¡±


    ¡°Death to the Daoine,¡± Alandis shrugged. ¡°Same old routine. Everybody who came with him scattered once the arrows flew.¡±


    ¡°Merchant, too?¡±


    Alandis nodded.


    ¡°How many got in before this group?¡±


    ¡°Seven,¡± said the lefthand guard.


    ¡°Round¡¯em up. We¡¯re going to want to question them.¡±


    One of the guard nodded, and slipped into the guardhouse for the arrivals list


    Gweir tapped Alandis on his unwounded shoulder. ¡°Glad you moved as fast as you did. Get to the healer¡¯s. Who knows what the hell was on his blade.¡±


    The soldier nodded.


    ¡°Ermid, Tobin. Check the body then get rid of it. It¡¯s stinking the place up bad enough. Have Lea come down to decontaminate it. We don¡¯t need any nasty magics left here.¡±


    While he was barking orders, a green Dragonkin carefully stepped into the room. Gweir turned to face him.


    ¡°No more business tonight, Ochre. You can tell Master Shulan. If he has any newcomers tonight down at the Dragon Web office, I¡¯d appreciate if he sent them back to my people. And tell him I shut the gate down, maybe all night.¡±


    The dragon seemed perturbed. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t just a smuggling attempt. Look at the body. This time it was a Doghead commando. Where there¡¯s one, there are usually more.¡±


    ¡°Oh dear. Master Shulan won¡¯t be very happy. Receipts were down even before this.¡° The dragon sighed. ¡°I¡¯ll have to write a report.¡±


    ¡°You won¡¯t be the only one. Let¡¯s hope we only have to write one before sunrise.¡±

 Day 17 of the Ice Month

    Chapter 6


    Today I walk through the doors of the society that I made my own. My sisters and I were busy back in the early days. Rosmerta gathered those with the old knowledge, what was there before the Troubles and the Sundering, how to live like one of the children of the Lifegiver. She chose to preserve the old paths, and teach others to pass the knowledge down. She picked an alderbranch as her symbol. Knowledge is like a river. We will sit by that river and drink well of its waters, like an alder, she would say to those who asked. We will grow thickly and protect the source, and thus the Alder Branches was founded. Airmed was a healer; she gathered those who could heal as well, or could make medicines, care for the needy. She chose Willow as her symbol because it was flexible, useful, able to bend, and her acolytes became the Willow Leaves.


    My sister Belisama of all my sisters sought how things should work. She would take the ideas of others and shape them, turn them into useful. For her magic was a tool, not a study or a wonder, a miracle, but as good as a knife. Above all, she was a maker. Those who felt that way, too, gravitated to her. She chose the goose quill pen for her symbol; if it wasn¡¯t as useful as a pen, to made and use and preserve, and as practical, she just wasn¡¯t as interested. Those of like mind flocked to her and became the Goosequills. Close in heart was Nantosuelta, who loved fire and deep earth, and the power of making from the hidden things of earth. She chose the flame for her symbol, for its light that shed on how things could be made, and for it¡¯s power of transformation, and her followers founded the Fireburners ¨C metallurgy and engineering their field. And then there was Litaui, who all things growing, the earth and the waters were a special interest. She rescued so much after the Sundering, and chose the emblem of a pine tree. Her followers called themselves the Greenfellows.


    My final sister worked closely with me trying to protect what we have salvaged. Brigant of the shining spear, people called her. Those who chose the defense or attack found a place with her. It was to her I entrusted the rearing of Hawk and Bear and Birch, and it was I who those who wished to learn the deeper magics of defense and protection came. Sister chose the Red Spear for her sigil; her followers became the Red Sticks. I moving though the ways of all my sisters chose no sign. My followers, though, chose the circle. My followers became the Magic Guard, and from them, came the White Circle.


    Memories of a Long Life, by Sulis, Oldest of the White Circle.


    It was always hard when the Oldest wanted to do anything except be Oldest. Like at this moment, when she walked through the streets of Greenholt, the largest city on the White Isle. Instead of walking through the streets like all the other people who lived here, stopping and talking to friends, eating a bite from one of the street vendors, glancing at all the things for sale, she had to wrap herself in a web of invisibility to keep from gathering a crowd or disrupting business.


    And it was a lovely city to wander in. The streets of the city center were lined with gracious, large structures belonging to many of the major schools based on the island, if not necessarily their main or mother houses. The Alder Branches had the largest building, made of white marble and ashlar stone with a deep porch at the street. Inside it went on for several blocks, housing library and study rooms, an auditorium for public meetings, offices, gardens and classrooms. Not far from it was the Goosequill School, not as large, nor as awe-inspiring. Its front was a well made brick structure. Like the Alder Branches, it had spaces for study, classes, lectures, an excellent library and a garden. It also had a row of laboratory buildings at the far back. Scattered between them and further along the road were shops, offices, and even some dwellings. The White Circle had a small, rather inconspicuous building, because its main training campus was located outside of the city. The Fireburners had their workshops at the very edge of town; people often complained about the noise and smell that emitted from their researches. The same with the Greenfellows. The Willow Leaves had a large teaching hospital on the opposite end of town. The Redsticks had a training gymnasium next to the city council¡¯s offices, separate from their chapterhouse further down the road. Just in case of emergency, they said.


    At the center of town, where all these other buildings radiated out from, was the simple shrine of the Lifegiver, a single stone reaching up to heaven, surrounded by a tranquil, if small garden. A few people were gathered in the gardens. It was a favored place to relax. Some locals claimed they could feel her essence if they sat there quietly for a time. Others said they could feel her judgment and avoided that gardens altogether.


    The Oldest continued her walk. It was, most of all, a town given over to learning, and supporting those who studied in its borders. Bookshops, herbalists, purveyors of useful equipment for all the arts, mechanical, physical, magical, dominated the shops. That, and tea shops where people gathered to discuss the latest lecture or class.


    Contemplating the nature of the city that had grown up from the place that she and her sisters had set up to deal with the disasters after the Sundering, the small wooden shacks and first dormitories to house the needy and displaced, she once again felt the tug of amazement at what had grown out of their refugee camp.


    ¡°If the Sundering had to happen, at least this good came of it,¡± she muttered quietly.


    Finally, the Oldest reached her destination and dropped her invisibility spell. There were a few gasps from passersby, but before anything could come of it, she stepped through the doors of the Redstick compound. Like all of their centers, there was a foyer, with a receptionist dressed in a crisp black and red uniform. Beyond that was a double door that led to an open exercise yard, surrounded by a colonnade. Off the colonnade would be offices and meeting rooms, supplies.


    The receptionist, a young Daoine woman with sharp features and severely styled black hair as befitting a woman in a military order,looked up as the door to the compound closed, then snapped to attention at seeing who had walked in.She was obviously experienced in receiving important visitors, and without any sign of nervousness, calmly stood up and bowed. ¡°Oldest, you honor us. How may I help you today?¡±


    The Oldest walked to the desk. ¡°Century Rothlin, is it? They still have you working reception?¡±


    The woman straightened up and smiled. ¡°Yes, when it¡¯s my rotation. I¡¯m impressed, Oldest, that you remembered.¡±


    ¡°I always remember good workers who I can rely on,¡± she said. ¡°As to why I have come. Master Tovin sent a message for me. Alas, the message got to me a bit later than I think he expected. He is still here, is he not?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Oldest. I¡¯ll...¡±


    Before she could say what she was going to do, a door behind her desk opened up, and a serious-faced Daoine man stepped out, a look of sternness that was intensified by the neatly groomed goatee he had. He wore a diadem with a single red spear insignia on it. His eyes, almost as probing as the Oldest¡¯s, met hers blue to blue. ¡°Ah, Oldest. You might have thought you were late, but you actually arrived quicker than I expected. Please, come. We¡¯ll sit in the garden room.¡±


    She nodded, and followed him down the colonnade to a sunny room that overlooked a pleasant garden. In its center was a plinth; it was a memorial to all of the Redsticks who had died in the service of An Lar. A young soldier in the red uniform of all the military cadets was there as honor guard; one was always stationed there to remind all the students how far the call to duty could go. The guard was changed every four hours, to maximize the students¡¯ awareness. Every cadet who trained at the chapterhouse had their turn at this duty.


    Tovin pointed to a bench at a corner of the garden, and the Oldest took a seat at on it, and looked up at her companion. ¡°You sent word, I came. I take it something important came to your attention.¡±


    ¡°It did, and I thank you, Oldest.¡± He settled down on the seat next to her, keeping a respectful space between them.


    As if on cue, a woman wearing Cadet robes entered the space, rolling a tea service on a cart. She bowed first to her commander, and then to the oldest, then left, without a word being spoken.


    Tovin poured cups for his guest and himself.


    The oldest accepted the cup. ¡°I take it that you discovered something through your channels that you feel the White Circle needs to know?¡±


    ¡°Something I think will interest you.¡± Leaving his teacup untouched on the service tray, he reached into the pocket of his uniform and pulled out a slab of stone with a metal frame. ¡°You remember Gweir Blackthorne?¡±


    ¡°An intense young man, with some ambition. He very much wanted to be a member of the White Circle during his studies, but didn¡¯t have the right group of talents. He might have made a passing member of the Magic Guard, but I could sense his talents were more in your line. He had the potential to be a good leader, though.¡±


    ¡°So many of our cadets wish to make the White Circle, so few have the right gifts, but still make important tools in the protection of the land,¡± Tovin said, nodding. There is a need for sword as well as magic.¡±


    ¡°That is what my sister Brigant always said. We are all important; we all have our talents. We can all contribute,¡± the Oldest said.


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    ¡°Quoting from the training manual, are you?¡± Tovin said, amused.


    ¡°It is as true today as when I wrote it,¡± she said, sipping her tea.


    ¡°Agreed,¡± he said, picking up the stone. ¡°And Gweir Blackthorn has been making his, with quite a bit of success. Recently, he has been sent as Post Commander to Gresholt¡¯s Keep at the Boundary.¡±


    ¡°Ah, I had heard that. His sister-in-law Arriane Allyns is one of my students. Also an excellent young person.¡± She took another sip of her tea, and watched the young cadet walk his ceremonial path around the plinth. Twice the distance of the monument one direction, a sharp 90 degree turn, another walk, and turn again until he made a complete circuit. Finally, reaching the end, he unsheathed his sword, saluted the memorial stone, resheathed his blade, then began his circuit again.


    ¡°Does all that marching really drive home the point?¡± she asked.


    ¡°We like to think so,¡± Tovin said.


    ¡°And how is Gweir coping with Jared Redbeard? He always seemed to be the type to not have patience with that type of person.¡±


    ¡°Well enough not to cause an incident yet. And in fact, he just managed to make a major capture of a smuggling outfit that had gotten on the wrong side of Redbeard. That¡¯s where this comes from.¡± He handed her the stone slab he had been holding in his hand.


    ¡°They¡¯re smuggling in jump stones now?¡± The Oldest frowned. ¡°I thought we had an agreement with B&F to keep better control of the stones than that.¡±


    ¡°So we do. But look at this one. Look at it carefully.¡±


    She took it from Tovin¡¯s hand and looked at it carefully, turned it over and over in her hands, and briefly raised it to her forehead. ¡°It¡¯s not been initialized, for one thing. The magic hasn¡¯t been invoked.¡±


    ¡°What else?


    There¡¯s no B&F mark on it.¡± She handed it back. ¡°Is that meaningful? Would B&F want their watermark on it if it were going to the black market?¡±


    Tovin shook his head. ¡°I was told that the watermark was part of the magic infusion process that they use to prepare them for work.¡±


    ¡°Could someone have stolen them before they were finished?¡± the Oldest asked. ¡°Or perhaps the smugglers thought they could sell one of the Shadow Lords shoddy merchandise.¡±


    ¡°That is possible. The stones came with a device that supposedly could activate it. It too had no B&F mark on it. Experts with the Fireburners and the Goosequills are examining it now.¡±


    ¡°That must be an interesting experience, to get two of their masters to work on the same project.¡±


    ¡°King¡¯s orders have a rather magical effect to keep the rivalries under control.¡± He allowed himself a small smile. ¡°Besides, it¡¯s Greystrand of the Fireburners and Maia of the Goosequills. They are...rather fond of each other.¡±


    ¡°A good choice for teamwork.¡± She handed the device back to him.


    ¡°Another thing we have to come to consider. With the jump stone devices spreading, we have to consider the boundary. We¡¯re going to have a lot more smuggling and breakouts happening with this. We need to make the whole zone a no jump zone. Is that possible?¡±


    The Oldest rubbed her forehead. ¡°The Boundary lands are a large expanse, and it was set up not with our magic, but the Lifebringer¡¯s. Can we modify it? I do not know.¡±


    ¡°If we can¡¯t, say hello to the Dark Queen for me,¡± Master of the Redsticks said. ¡°Maybe the White Wave can offer the high chief of the Dogheads tea and cakes at Ynys Afel. Perhaps the Lady off the Wild Hunt would be interested in the latest trinkets produced by the Goosequills. The Boundary that so many bled to put into place will mean nothing.¡±


    <hr>


    A week after Gan had sent off her letter to Allynswood, her friend Elaine had sent her a long, chatty letter with round trip tickets, insisting that she come and tell her everything.


    Elaine, considerate as usual, had bought them for a week after that, giving her time to make arrangements and so here Gan was, not standing in the message line, but being escorted into a first class Dragon Web carriage.


    Gan clasped her travel bag closely as she entered it, to discover she was the first passenger. A young dragonkin male took her ticket, and gave her a stub.


    ¡°This carriage is going to Waterford on Glint,¡± he said, reading her itinerary written on the ticket. ¡°You¡¯ll get transferred there to Goblin Market.¡± he said crisply.


    ¡°Not a non-stop?¡± she asked.


    He shook his head. His scales were pale red, and his eyes were a deep mahogany, heavy lidded. ¡°Goblin Market evidently doesn¡¯t get a lot of traffic. Your trip there will be handled by Borson Transports instead of Briarwood and Flysch.¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t heard of them,¡± Gan said, pulling her shawl a bit closer.


    ¡°Oh, they handle small runs for B and F all over An Lar. Very reputable. They¡¯re nothing like that Torsun Mobile that had such an awful accident last year, if you were worried.¡±


    ¡°Worried?¡± Gan shook her head. ¡°No. I just haven¡¯t traveled much there.¡±


    He gave her a smile. It was quite toothy. ¡°Travel is good for the spirit, and there¡¯s no travel better than B and F. You¡¯ll be to Goblin Market before you know it. Nothing beats the Dragon Web for getting people and their things there!¡±


    He led her to a seat along one wall. Soon the carriage filled up with several other travelers ¨C a couple of Bauchan men who were dressed like well-to-do merchants, proof that Bauchans could be more than laborers or servants. Next came a tall, willowy Daoine woman dressed in flowing silks who was being escorted by a older Bauchan woman wearing servant livery, dark grey serge with a sensible cloak. She carried a large basket that emitted food odors of a rather delicious type, and held onto a small Daoine girl. They sat in the seats nearest to Gan. Across from them were an old, almost ancient, human and a young man.


    ¡°Are you sure this thing is safe?¡± the old man said to his companion.


    ¡°Absolutely, Da,¡± his companion said. ¡°I take one at least once a month to check up on our shop in Waterford. Best way to go, ever. Better than any coach.¡±


    The Dragonkin man stepped into the room, followed by a porter who loaded one corner with a number of boxes, each with a bright, clear address label.


    ¡°Will we be leaving soon?¡± the Daoine woman asked.


    ¡°Oh yes, Lady Hollin. Soon as we get this bit of express freight loaded. He turned and looked at the Spriggan porter, who was stacking the boxes as neatly as possible.


    The old human nudged his son. ¡°Is that usual, putting freight in with the people?¡±


    ¡°Sometimes,¡± the younger man said. ¡°Costs a lot, though. Some folks have more money than time.¡±


    The old man just shook his head. All this was outside his back country experience. ¡°Never see things like this at Whitecross.¡±


    ¡°Never see much besides cows and dairy maids up there. But the world¡¯s a lot bigger than that, Da.¡±


    The old human grumbled something and fell silent.


    Soon the freight was stacked, and the Spriggan left. The Dragonkin followed, but paused at the door, and turned to the passengers.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be leaving you now. Have a lovely time at Waterford by Glint. If you¡¯re transferring to another destination, the clerk there will see you to the right location.¡±


    He stepped outside. The ancient human turned to his companion. ¡°Now what?¡±


    ¡°Watch, Da.¡±


    It sounded like the door was being latched from the outside. There were a few more bangs, as they closed the luggage compartments. Then there was complete silence. Suddenly Gan felt a rush of energy that was best described as the sensation of having your hand plunged into icy water.


    The little girl, startled, looked up at her mother, who gave her hand a squeeze. The lamps in the carriage flickered briefly.


    As suddenly as it had come, the sensation passed, and the lamps steadied. They could hear sounds from outside again. Things banged, clanked. Someone outside of the carriage shouted something unintelligible.


    The door was unlatched from the outside.


    The younger human stood up.


    ¡°Why¡¯d you do that?¡± the old man asked.


    ¡°Because we¡¯re here, Da.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re trying to fool me, aren¡¯t you, Artie? Calm an old man down? We couldn¡¯t be here already. We barely sat down.¡±


    Just then, the door was opened. A different Dragonkin person walked into the carriage, followed by a burst of fresh air. It smelled vaguely of pine trees, scents that did not smell like Comrie. This time the clerk was a woman, her scales a pale brown, and her eyes emerald green. The ruff around her head was almost the same color of her scales, a very calm person.


    ¡°Welcome to Waterford by Glint. The weather is mildly warm; you may find your coats a little heavy. It¡¯s sunny, with a mild breeze. If you come this way, I¡¯ll show you to the luggage counter or the transfer station. Thank you for traveling with Briarwood and Flysch.¡±


    And with that, they all got up.


    ¡°See Titiana, I told you we¡¯d get here before your cookies got cold,¡± the Bauchan woman said to the little girl. She patted her basket. ¡°Your father will be impressed.¡±


    Chuckling, Gan got up and headed out of the carriage.


    The rest of her journey was just as uneventful. The next carriage was a little smaller, the seats covered with cloth and not leather. There were only two other passengers, a Bauchan woman with frizzy red hair wearing a bright pink dress who was busy reading a book, and a bent-over goblin woman focused on her spinning. It made Gan dizzy watching her twirl it, so she tried to look away. There was more freight on this run, big crates and small, and one had the unmistakable smell of raw wool. Luckily, the journey took no more time to get to Goblin Market than it took to go from Comrie to Waterford by Glint, and after about 10 minutes Gan was free of the smell and the Goblin woman who was chanting some sort of spell into her spinning.


    She picked up her bag from the counter, walked through the smaller Dragon Web station, and headed for the outside. There, waiting for her like Elaine had promised, was a young man holding up a sign that read ¡°Gan Thistleberry.¡±


    Taking a deep breath, the little fay woman walked up to the youngster. She gave him her best teacher ¡°Welcome to the Class¡±smile, watching carefully how he reacted. ¡°Well, hello there, young man. I¡¯m Gan Thistleberry. Have you been waiting long?¡±


    The young Bauchan did as she suspected and looked at her, rather surprised.


    ¡°Is there a problem?¡± she asked.


    He blushed. ¡°No, ma¡¯am, no. I was...I was...¡±


    ¡°Just surprised?¡±


    ¡°Yes ma¡¯am.¡± He took her bag and put it in the wagon.


    Gan chuckled. ¡°Let me guess. Most of Elaine¡¯s guests are high level Daoine ¨C people from the Court, all fancied out with a troop of servants and luggage up to here.¡± She lifted her hand up to her nose. ¡°And then I come by, a wee, plump big eared wisp of a woman in a plain wool dress.¡±


    ¡°Uh,¡± the driver said, scuffing his toe in the dirt. Gan had guessed correctly. Almost as if it could sense his embarrassment, his horse neighed.


    ¡°Well, you know what they say,¡± Gan said, ¡°Good things come in small packages. So, now that I¡¯ve made you uncomfortable without meaning to, let¡¯s start again. Hello, I¡¯m Gan Thistleberry. Have you been waiting long? And by the way, what¡¯s your name?¡±


    The driver looked up at her, chewing on his bottom lip, still not sure of what to make of his passenger. He brushed a strand of sandy hair out of his eyes, adjusted his broad brimmed brown felt hat that didn¡¯t quite cover up his big pointed Bauchan ears. As it was he was dressed in a warm looking red jacket and had a large blue scarf wrapped around his neck, good Bauchan farmer clothes, not the livery of a high born lady¡¯s driver himself, and had really been expecting complaints about that instead.


    Suddenly, he smiled, and held out his hand. ¡°Uh, I¡¯m Rob, Rob Woodway, ma¡¯am.¡±


    ¡°Well, then we both know who is other is now,¡± Gan said, nodding. ¡°Do you drive for Lady Elaine often?¡±


    ¡°Not usually, ma¡¯am,¡± the young man said, throwing a tarp over Gan¡¯s bag. ¡°Usually, I work in the gardens.¡±


    ¡°A much better occupation than taking stuffy folk from the Dragon Web office and Allynswood, eh?¡± Gan walked around to the passenger side of the wagon and hopped up the step.


    Rob glanced up at her, a tiny grin on his face. ¡°I wasn¡¯t going to say anything...¡±


    Gan spread her skirt comfortably on the seat. ¡°So, can you tell me why this town is called Goblin Market? I¡¯ve always wondered that.¡±


    ¡°Ah, that¡¯s a story in itself, Ma¡¯am.¡± He got into the wagon. ¡°Let¡¯s go, Nell,¡± he said to the horse. ¡°I wish I could get my grandda to tell you. He does it best of all. But evidently there was the Goblin who sold meat pies...¡±


    And with that, they headed off to Allynswood.

 Day 17 of the Ice Month (Continued)

    Chapter 7


    Practicals get mocked, much, by some of the schools, and Domestic Magic more than the rest of the Practicals field, but really, they are the bedrock of Fae workings. That''s where the discipline has its roots. Everything we teach can be traced back to them. And you need no devices, no touchstones, wands, magic bowls, or other technology to work most of it.


    Class Lecture - The Oldest of the White Circle


    "So it''s really true," Lady Elaine of Allynswood said, lifting her tea cup. "I know how the well-lived life is supposed to be open for enlightening and unexpected discoveries, but when I got your letter about leaving the school, it was such a surprise!"


    Lady Elaine was a beautiful woman, dark of hair and blue of eye, slender and graceful, with the delicately pointed ears that marked the very best of high Fae breeding.


    Everything about her emphasized that, both the faeness and the highborn status, from the elegance of her silk gown, pale as the first leaves of spring to the room she sat in. The room they were in breathed with the highest of Daoine art and sensibility, ancient and in some ways timeless. Its walls were carved out of fine white marble and decorated with dark, polished wood, tendrils of tree and leaf patterns giving an echo to natural beauty and fine craftsmanship ¨C the country house of an ancient line that had been in place and in power for long, long years.


    But to the small, fidgeting boy who sat at the table, that was just normal. He had grown up among all this and didn''t give it another thought. What he did pick up on is that his mother was using her best china for tea, the teapot she only brought out when people from the king''s court, or very special people from the White Island dropped by for a visit. The table linens were company best, trimmed with fine white cutwork and monogrammed with the logo of the House. But worst of all, he had been forced to put on clothes that were reserved for those times when his parents wanted him to make the very best impression.


    Tam''s fidgeting was in large part due to that. Nannie Edelkyn had put him into a finely embroidered doublet that was was scratchy with metal threads, even through his linen shirt. Because he was growing, the sleeves were getting a tad short and they bound at his armpits, which made him shift even more as he sat there. His feet hurt in the formal buckled shoes, too. He picked at his scone, almost afraid to touch his cup, worried that he might spill something on his clothes or the linens. Not yet well trained in the elegance his mother made look effortless, best company days made him nervous.


    He would have been much happier outside playing in the fields, running away from his tutors and nanny. Sighing as he ate a bit of scone, but not too loudly, he thought about how he had almost gotten away this morning. He had been putting on his way more comfortable even if "worn out and not presentable" boots, as Nannie called them, to go check on his rock fort near the big oak when she had grabbed him and dragged him into the bath house. Despite his protestations, he didn''t fight her much, because above everything else, he was a good son, again, like a proper Fae noble, even if it was uncomfortable and he found the good clothes itchy. Having his nanny sit next to him, judging his every move might have added to his behavior.


    Taking a deep breath before lifting the cup up, he carefully, carefully took a sip of his tea, using this moment to study his mother''s guest.


    "I wonder who she really is," he said softly to himself. "Why is Mama acting like this?" To be honest, she didn''t look like the type of person who would be the reason for the best china and the best behavior.


    The woman her mama was chattering with so animatedly was not a woman of nobility from the looks of her. She wasn''t tall, and slender and elegant like his mother or aunt. Her her ears stuck out a bit too far. In fact she was short and plump and had mousy hair, neither the true gold, red nor black of high fey nobles, and she wore pulled back in a simple bun, instead of the elaborate curls his mother favored. Still, her eyes were true Elvish blue, but blue gray, not the color of his mother''s eyes, and her face was rather round. Still, he decided as he watched the two women talk, there was something about her that had caught his eye ¨C the way she carried herself, a certain glow about her, and above all else, the way she smiled.


    In fact, she was so inviting, he was fighting off the urge to get up and go sit next to her, although he knew he''d never hear the end of it, especially from his nanny, who would be incredibly jealous. So instead, he sipped his tea and listened to the talk.


    Mistress Gan, his mother had called her. Gan Thistleberry. It was a short name, with no family honors in it, but somehow, as he watched her talk, sit, and gesture, he felt it fit her. Practical. No pretension. But something about Thistleberry ¨C he didn''t think there was such a thing. Thistles were prickly and their seeds blew away. Berries could be prickly, but their fruit was there for the picking. Maybe it was like how her mother treated Mistress Gan...looked like a weed on the outside, but something lovely on the inside? It made his head ache to think about it, so he decided to focus on how she was dressed. Just like the clothes she was wearing - a simple dress, a laced up vest. No embroidery except a little at the wrist. Clothes people can move in, he thought as he shifted once again in his uncomfortable formal wear. Already he liked her, and had a glimpse of why her mother found her special.


    As he listened, Tam realized that the two women had known each other since they were girls. Schoolmates.


    "What are they going to call it now?" his mother asked. Her voice sounded irritated "If Master Gwaher is gone, can they really call our old school Gwaher''s School of Grammarie, Magick, and Practical Rhetoric?" She sighed and looked down into her tea cup. "Some days, I miss that old place. I wanted to bring Tam to meet Master Gwaher but never got around to it. And now..."


    Mistress Gan squeezed her hand.


    "Comrie? That''s a long, long way from here," Tam said, finding his voice at last. "I''ve never been further than Waterford-by-Glint."


    "Indeed, young sir. If you walked it, it would take about two weeks." Mistress Gan gave the young boy a careful look.


    "My father says it takes a week to get to Ynys Afal to see the High King, and that''s not far from Comrie."


    His nanny gave him a kick under the table.


    "By horse, young sir. Horses go faster than feet."


    "I know that." he asked.


    "Tam," his mother said. "You shouldn''t bother Mistress Gan with a bunch of questions."


    Tam, feeling a bit abashed, not so much by his nanny''s kick as at his mother''s reaction stared down at his cup and nodded.


    Mistress Gan gave a laugh. "It''s all right, Ellie. You''ve got a bright sprout here. And it wasn''t for not liking the questions of young people that I''m leaving that place." She turned to Tam, and gave him her best "Teacher respects you" smile. "Thankfully, I didn''t have to walk or take a horse all the way here, just the bit from Goblin Market to your house. It didn''t take me long at all. I came by the Dragon Web. I got to Goblin Market faster from Comrie than I got from Goblin Market to Allynswood. It took maybe half an hour."


    Tam''s eyes grew big at that information, but as he pondered that, she turned back to Lady Elaine. "I hope you weren''t planning on sending him to the old school," Gan said, looking at him thoughtfully. "Grendal''s nothing like Gwaher. He won''t get the education we got. It wouldn''t be the same. "


    Elaine shook her head. "His father wants to send him to his old school, in Cader Rhys."


    "Willow Heights? That''s a good school if Rhys Longbeard''s still master."


    "Hale and hearty, and still pouring learning into young heads, from all reports," Elaine said. She looked fondly at her son. "He seems to have done well by Gweir. And so many of their students end up at Ynys Afel." At that, Gan lifted an eyebrow. "I''m loathe to let him go ¨C Tam is such a dear, but there comes a time..."


    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    "Like it did for you and me," Gan said. "Are you ready for your deep schooling, Master Tam?"


    Tam put his cup down very carefully, and looked up at the two women with a touch of worry in his eyes. "Must I?"


    "Eventually, son. There''s no school near here, and your father has said so." Elaine turned back to her friend. "So what happened to Master Gwaher?"


    "We''re not exactly sure," said Mistress Gan. She bit her bottom lip. "You know how he never could stop doing magical research."


    Elaine nodded. "That''s one of the things that made the school attractive to my father. ''No child of mine is going to a school where they don''t stay on top of things,'' he used to say when Mama would bring up sending me to the White Isle or Rutherton."


    "Rutherton is rather¡­.well, old fashioned," Gan said, nodding. "Everything''s done in the old ways. That''s not so true on the White Isle."


    "Mama used to try to tell him that. It broke his heart when she decided to work there full time after Gweir and I got married."


    "How are your parents?" Gan asked.


    "Oh, Mama''s busy with the Alder Branches, still busy administering their free school program across the kingdom. There''s a branch of it in Goblin Market, and I''m sure she had something to do with that. Papa is off in the Grey Mountains at Aspenheight most summers. He comes home sometimes in the winter, and catches up with Mama in between. He''s been writing, I think. History. He likes it there, he says. Fewer distractions."


    "Too dry for me there, but good for him. Keeping busy is important," Gan said, nodding.


    "Speaking of Master Gwaher¡­.Remember the time he did a summoning spell that went wrong and pulled up one of the teachers from the Dragonkin schools?"


    Gan chuckled. "That was a day. I thought she was going to burn down the entire third level. Master Gwaher had to pay for her transport all the way back to Willowick on Sunderland That''s a long way from Comrie."


    "Well, at least he managed to get a few lectures from her. We''d never gotten that much information about Dragonkin from Mistress Airen."


    "True, true," Gan said, taking a sip of her tea. She smiled at the memory, but then her face became sober. "After I started teaching there, there wasn''t anything nearly as exciting for the staff to deal with, but he never stopped researching. We knew Master Gwaher was doing some tricky magic up in the tower, probably more work on portable transportation. You know how he was fixated at that. I never met a man who was more resentful of the Dragon Web. No one knows what happened, exactly. A huge wind blew up, and the tower glowed for two days. When we dared enter, there was no sign of him."


    Elaine shuddered. "Please, try one of the scones. They''re blueberry."


    Gan''s look brightened at that. "Oh, Ellie, you remembered," she said. "I''m impressed."


    "I like blueberries," Tam said. "Almost as much as peaches."


    "You have good taste, son," Gan said, nodding, as she took the proffered treat, "I''m rather fond of peaches myself." She took a bite. "Oh, so good," she said approvingly.


    "Nannie makes the best scones," Tam said. "Nannie made these."


    "She does indeed," Gan said, beaming at Tam''s companion. The older woman seemed pleased.


    "Your boy looks so much like his father," she said, turning back to Elaine. "Where is he, by the way?"


    Elaine took a sip of her tea. "Back on Borderland duty. Again. They stationed him at Greshold''s Keep. As commander! He doesn''t tell me much in his letters. But one thing keeps happening. The Hawk keeps calling him, and he keeps going." Her face dropped. "I am rather proud of him, but¡­" She put down her cup and sighed. "To be honest, I wish he''d give it up, but I don''t think he''ll ever do it."


    Gan sighed. "There''s always something about the Boundary Lands. I don''t know why they just don''t build another wall around the whole place and bind the Bullrush clan and all the smugglers in there forever."


    "If only! So tell me more about Master Gwaher," Elaine said.


    Gan took a deep breath. "Grendal thinks he got transported somewhere, maybe to the Lost Lands."


    "The Lost Lands? If he ended up there, he might never get back. His type of magic doesn''t work very well there. If at all." Elaine shuddered. "My great uncle Owen would go there sometimes, but always went on foot. The Dragon Web only takes you to the boundary. They say there''s a hole in no space in that region that cancels out their magic. So much magic is crippled there, especially transportation magic."


    "I know, I know." Gan paused and took a bite of her scone. "It''s been three years now, and not a message or a hint. Still, even if he had to walk the whole width of the Gray Lands we should have heard something by now. The school gave up and the board of directors decided to make Grendal the acting master of the school." She crossed her arms and made a bitter face.


    Ellaine shook her head. "Grendal? Has he gotten any better? He was always rather pompous."


    "Not in the least. He''s exactly the same sort of person we knew when we all were in school together. He was good at his field, Deep Mana Syncretics, but thought all the rest of us were..well, not up for the big stuff. I was hoping they''d pick Robin Wayford - you never met him, but he''s smart, a good teacher and has the mind of an administrator. But no, they went for clan connections. The Redwing clan is a big supporter of the school. We were all so disappointed. I met with the board, but they just sat their in their Redwing smugness, and wouldn''t hear a word I said. They graciously told me I could accept it or leave. The next day, Grendal demanded my resignation. I gave it to him happily." She took a sip of her tea. "I wasn''t the only one."


    "My poor Gan. I''m so sorry." Elaine picked up her hand. "I can''t imagine what''s going to happen to the old school."


    "Unless the board of directors gets some spine, it''s going to become the Redwing clan''s private school. That''ll be the only ones who''ll be willing to send their children there. But the standards are going to go way down. You should have seen what he wanted to do to the Practical Magic courses. I just wouldn''t, couldn''t do it."


    "He never did think much of practical magic." Elaine said. "I remember that time when it was the magic fair..."


    "No he didn''t. Only the big theoretical type, the stuff that doesn''t have much use until the rest of us get hold of it." She shook her head.


    "Still, I am so sad. To be uprooted like that." Elaine crumbled a bit of scone into her plate.


    "Thank you, Ellie. It was probably time for me to move on anyway." Gan sighed, leaned back in her chair, staring off into space. "I had been teaching there ever since I finished my studies with the Goosequills. And to be honest, I''m ready to get out of the classroom for a while. Time for a sabbatical. Do some more research in Domestic Magic."


    "So what will you do now? They''d take you in at the White Island. The Eldest of the Goosequills speaks well of you. You know plenty of people there. My mother and Arriane are there."


    "Me?" Gan shook her head. "I don''t think so¡­.my style...well it just doesn''t fit in with high-minded Daoine ways. Even with the Goosequills. I''m uncomfortable with the formality."


    "You have the right blood, even for all that you try to pretend you don''t." Ellie said. "I peeked at your records once when Master Gamgee had me in to help with the filing. You''re half Daoine yourself. Your mother was Red Maple! You can''t get any more Daoine than that."


    "You always were a rascal," Gan said, laughing. She took a sip of her tea. "No, I am sure I could learn the ways of the White Island¡­.but I don''t want to. I''m too set in my ways to change now, I''m afraid."


    "So..." Elaine said.


    "I was wondering if you knew of a place nearby. I''m not looking for charity. I have a nice bit saved after all these years, but you know I grew up not far from these parts. I bet Cullin the Tree Shepherd is still throwing mud at people who get too near his precious trees."


    "Oh, don''t get me started about the Tree Shepherd." Elaine frowned, and then smiled. "You know, the magistrate from Waterford goes by every new moon to make sure he remembers the regulations."


    "He always was a hard head," Gan said. "Still, my dad''s people had a good relationship with him before Thistleberry Place got caught in the big fire. I think I could deal with him as a neighbor. It doesn''t need to be much of a place, a small house in the countryside, a bit of a garden, not too far from the road, maybe. I''m sure I''ll have business at Waterford and Goblin Market. But I''d like some solitude. I have far too many years of teaching to get out of my system. All those children, all those administrators and spineless boards of directors. Some peace and quiet would be nice. At least for a while. Maybe I''ll write. Or even start my own little school, done right."


    "You could stay here, you know," Elaine said. "I would love to put you up. We have a guest house on the property. And you could tutor Tam."


    The boy looked up expectantly at that. "No going away?"


    Gan shook her head. "I''d just get underfoot," she said. "And I''d probably embarrass you. Gweir never did approve of what he called my hedge witch ways." When Elaine started to protest, Gan held up a hand. "I know he never said anything to my face, but I have ears and friends in Ynys Afal."


    Elaine covered her face with her hands, then dropped them, looking apologetic. "I''m sorry that got to you."


    "I believe you!" She gave Elaine''s hand a little pat. Then looking at how crestfallen Tam was, she added, "Not that I can''t come over and tutor you, young man. If your mother wants."


    He looked up, giving her a small wisp of a smile.


    Elaine rubbed her chin. "Let me think a moment. I don''t think you want to move into one of the farming villages, correct?"


    "I''d take it, but..."


    Elaine tapped her fingers on the table as she thought. "I wouldn''t want to kick any of the tenants out."


    "Please don''t do that!" Gan said. "I''d feel horrible knowing that."


    "How do you feel about pixies?" Elaine asked, hesitantly. "People will think I''m awful for offering this place to a friend, but if you want solitude, I have one place that might be perfect. If it doesn''t work out we can always arrange something else."


    "I''m immune to pixie dust," Gan said, intrigued.


    "I might know just the place. It''s a small farmstead right next to Cullin''s Forest. It''s a bit of a drive to the nearest village, but you could get to Goblin Market and back in one day by carriage. It''ll need a little work...Last tenant was a sad little hermit of a man who let the place run down."


    "You must mean Pixie Hollow." Gan took another bite of her scone, amused. "I''ve heard stories about that place. Your parents always had trouble keeping tenants there."


    Elaine suddenly looked embarrassed. "No, let me look around a little more. I shouldn''t do that to a friend." she said, clasping her hand over Gan''s.


    "Don''t do that," the schoolmistress said. "It sounds perfect." She put her teacup down. "I wonder how soon I can get moved in."

 Day 19 of the Ice Month

    Chapter 8


    Touchstone technology began to be developed not long after the Sundering. It was originally aimed to help those who had been damaged during the fighting utilize their magic in ways they could no longer manage ¨C whether physical limitation of limbs, damage to the mana channels in their bodies, or from toxic exposure to the weapons let loose during the worst of the Kin War that triggered the Sundering. This was a joint effort between the Fire Burners and Willow Leaves, and between the magic the two schools favored, devices, at first large and awkward to use, requiring specialized harnesses and weighing too much to be easily portable were devised that gave the magically disabled some ability to regain their ability to use both innate talents as well as formally learned skills.


    About 400 years ago, a Fire Burner named Lethon Redbud devised a new and improved material, Grisalhud, which needed only a small fragment, no bigger than a walnut and contact to the user¡¯s skin to do everything the earlier devices did. There were some drawbacks; using the tool could lead to the atrophy on a user¡¯s own natural, innate magic ability over time, and using it too much, too often, for heavy duty magic purposes could basically cause mental instability, cause physical degeneration and/or destroy the user¡¯s ability to handle magic at all. But the ease of use and portability of the new devices began to see them used as a convenience by people who were not disabled.


    Because of the potential danger for using them as a magical booster on a regular basis, it was hailed when Joffry Redbloom of the Goosequills devised a revolutionary function for the touchstones: as artifact control devices. Need a boost to your dark vision? Slip on a pair of touchstone controlled goggles. Need more heat than your coat provides? Toggle the touchstone, and suddenly you¡¯ll be wrapped in extra warmth. Need to chill your wine at midsummer? There¡¯s a touchstone for it. No need there for learning arcane methods ¨C just buy a device that¡¯ll do it for you.


    Many of us don¡¯t use heavy magic on a regular basis. We¡¯re not members of the Magic Guard for instance (who are not allowed to use touchstones, by the way, for their defensive magics. It just uses too much mana, and it would cause too much danger for the users.) It was far easier for many people to forego the depth of learning and the training it requires to be truly adept at the application of even innate magic, and rely on the touchstones for those occasions where we do. Now even children get touchstone toys, and many of them receive a general purpose touchstone for their twelfth birthday. Sadly, with this approach, some of the old ways of doing magic are being forgotten, and students may find moving into higher level studies get handicapped by their having to relearn things the hard way to advance in their careers. And we all know stories about touchstone tragedies where abuse of the tool has led to destroyed minds and sometimes physical disasters.


    Touchstones, a Boon or a Bane? Aiden Whiteclover, writing in Goosequill Reports


    It was another day in the small town of Goblin Market. There was a little snow on the ground, and the air was chill, but not cold enough to keep people from their business on the streets. This was clearly true by the Dragon Web office, where a small trickle of customers wandered in and out of the building, and a few wagons carrying merchandise rumbled in and out of the freight area.


    Umber Madrona, newly installed member of the Dragon Investigation Corporation carrying a sheaf of papers almost bumped into a small Fey woman as she headed for the doors. He sighed as he let her go past him.


    ¡°Nothing to investigate there,¡± he muttered to himself. ¡°I wonder if they¡¯ll ever be anything to investigate here?¡±


    He stepped outside to get a breath of air before the next scheduled freight shipment came through the web. Being Dragonkin, who liked their warmth, and from Harani, where it never got as cold as it was in this part of the world, he found the air too chill for him, and he pulled his jacket, a properly made Dragonkin garment that protected his wings as needed, but was slitted to let them get out as necessary, a little closer. It was the first thing he bought after arriving, and it almost kept him warm enough. Almost. He fingered the touchstone at the neck of the garment, and with a slight closing of his eyes to activate the stone, invoked the coat¡¯s magical heating element. As he stood there, feeling a gentle heat drive the last of the cold away, he glanced down at his papers. ¡°Next shipment from Whitecross should be due in about ten minutes. How many cheeses to the people in this area eat, I ask you?¡±


    While he pondered that, a carriage drove up to the circular drive in front of the Dragon Web station. The driver, a bauchan man wearing a red coat and blue scarf got down and opened the carriage door, and out came a well-dressed Daoine woman in bright blue, and following her, a short, plump woman with Bauchan ears and Daoine eyes.


    Umber¡¯s Investigation curiosity tingled. ¡°I wonder what the story there is?¡±


    As the driver fetched bags out of the storage area of the carriage, another man hurried out of the Dragon Web station carrying a message pouch. Umber recognized that one ¨C a paunchy older Bauchan with huge sideburns and a balding hair wrapped up in a scarlet coat with shining brass buttons on the cuffs and down the front and over his pockets - everywhere you could think of putting buttons. He wore a bright golden pendant around his neck, symbol of his office ¨C Maxim Turbot, mayor of Goblin Market. Umber didn¡¯t think much of him, finding him pompous and self-important, so he was surprised as the man hurried over to the carriage.


    ¡°Lady Allyns! Lady Allyns!¡± Turbot called out, waving.


    The two women turned to the man barreling towards them.


    ¡°Ah, Mayor Turbot,¡± Elaine said. ¡°And how are you this morning?¡±


    ¡°Just another day of work,¡± the mayor replied as he reached them. ¡°Messages to pick up, orders to be carried out, business as usual. But what brings you from Allynswood to our fair town this day?¡± He swallowed, straightened his coat, and gave her an oily smile.


    ¡°Always so much to do,¡± Elaine said, nodding graciously. She turned to her companion. ¡°Gan Thistleberry, meet Maxim Turbot, mayor of this fine town.¡±


    Gan nodded politely at the mayor, but did not curtsy. ¡°Pleased to meet you, sir.¡±


    He looked the little woman over, not quite sure what to make of her, plainly dressed with Bauchan ears, but Daoine eyes, and raised one eyebrow. ¡°Greetings, Mistress Thistleberry. My, my, I hadn¡¯t heard that name in these parts in a long, long time.¡±


    ¡°It has been a long time,¡± Gan said, nodding. ¡°I was a girl the last time I was in these parts.¡±


    ¡°A child, eh?¡± he said.


    She nodded. ¡°Before the Great Fire.¡±


    ¡°Oh, those Thistleberrys,¡± the mayor said, as if the name finally rang a bell. He rubbed his chin. ¡°I remember a time...¡±


    ¡°Gan is an old friend of mine,¡± Elaine interrupted what could have been a long spiel. ¡°Old school friends. She just came up for a visit, but will be moving in to a place on my estate soon.¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± Turbot said. A look passed over his face, as if he were calculating something. ¡°How is your husband, Lady Allyns? It¡¯s been a long time since we¡¯ve seen him at Goblin Market.¡±


    Elaine sighed. ¡°The Redsticks are keeping Gweir busy. They¡¯ve put him in charge of Greshold¡¯s Keep. Perhaps we¡¯ll get to see him for Brightening Day, but who knows?¡±


    Umber turned away from the group and headed back to the freight door. It was almost time for the next delivery. But while he had a moment of privacy, he pulled out a small notebook and added the facts he learned about Lady Allyns and her friend. With a little more time, he¡¯d have dossiers on everybody noteworthy in the community.


    ¡°That¡¯s what Professor Bloodstone said to do,¡± he muttered. ¡°But will I ever get a chance to use any of it?¡±


    Suddenly he heard a chime at the freight door. The shipment had arrived.


    When he was a young hatchling, and even when he had been in his final training, his mind had been filled with stories of the great Dragon Investigators of the past. His was an old investigator bloodline, distant cousins to the family of the Master Investigator, even, and the ability to fade out ran true in him. More or less. He wasn¡¯t as good at it as his father was, but it was usually enough to pass unnoticed when he wanted to. Nobody studied harder in the Investigator cadre, even if his test scores weren¡¯t the highest. But everybody assured him he would have a fine career in the DIC, once he made it through his first position. Everybody, he was told, started in small regional offices. It was getting through those assignments that would shape the direction and path of the assignments to come. It was dirt work, his uncle assured him, but they all had done it. The chance to become a great investigator would come later, as the young investigators gained more experience. Save the dreams for later, Uncle told him.


    He was beginning to see what his uncle meant. In the two weeks he had been at Goblin Market, he had learned a dreadful truth about the Dragon Investigation Corporation. What most of their time investigating in a small station like this was shipping invoices. Fees paid. Duties collected. Not a single missing person to find, not a fraud to run down, not even a fight between customers. This was not the world he imagined.


    If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    After seeing to the most recent freight shipment, he headed back to the DIC office.


    Behind the DIC logo on the door was a small office. The walls were full of filing cabinets, a bookcase that held official manuals, three chairs, only one designed for non-Dragonkin sitters, and two desks. Posters about DIC rules and procedures adorned one wall. A potted plant sat on one of the file cabinets, and small boxes of DIC memorabilia, to give out to school children rested on the others.


    Beneath the manuals, on a shelf of their own, a row of books that belonged to his supervisor, escapist fiction, mostly about adventures in old Dragonhame, before the Fire Sickness.


    As he opened the door, he found his superior, Thornfield Witstone, sitting at a desk, reading one of those books. Thornfield was just a few years older than Umber; he too was waiting for his chit to move on. But unlike Umber, he was new blood, not from one of the Investigator families, and seemed rather content with his current position.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got the invoices from the last freight shipment,¡± Umber announced, sitting down at his desk.


    ¡°Anything look unusual? Thornfield asked, not looking up from his book.


    ¡°Not in the least. Wheat and barley, sugar, assorted herbs with their certificates, twenty bolts of cloth, honey, assorted hardwoods, ten bottles of rosewater. Everything checked out. All duties accounted for.¡± Umber sat down. ¡°Do we ever get to investigate anything? Or are we just taxmen?¡¯


    Thornfield looked up.


    ¡°How many people came in on the passenger last transport?¡± Thornfield asked.


    ¡°Three.¡±


    ¡°And the one before that?¡± Thornfield held out his hands for the papers.


    ¡°One.¡±


    Umber handed them over. Thornfield took out an elaborate file box, with pockets for different papers, and began to sort the invoices into their proper categories.


    ¡°And yesterday?¡± he asked Umber.


    ¡°Seven.¡±


    ¡°And how many dragonkin in the area?¡±


    ¡°Only the ones who work at the station. There are no other Dragonkin businesses here, not a single shop.¡± Umber fluttered his wings, showing his discomfort.


    ¡°And how many Daoine in town?¡±


    ¡°Maybe ten. The Alder Branch school teachers, the Willow Leaf administrator...¡±


    ¡°Thirteen,¡± Thornfield replied, cutting him off. ¡°And six of them belong to the same family. Not a lot of people who would be interested in smuggled goods like dream dust here. Not a lot of dragons to try to get around paying duties. You have to get to one of the bigger places like Waterford by Glint or maybe Harani before you start seeing that.¡±


    ¡°So what do we investigate?¡¯


    ¡°Well, every now and then, somebody will try to ship in something they shouldn¡¯t. Or someone runs away. Maybe two or three times a year. Mostly, though, we investigate whether people paid their service fees and duties.¡±


    ¡°But I thought...¡± Umber said, letting his voice drop off. ¡°I know I was warned, but I didn¡¯t think we¡¯re just glorified tax collectors.¡±


    ¡°Fee collectors. You¡¯ve read too many novels about the DIC,¡± Thornfield said. ¡°But what we do keeps the money flowing. It¡¯s important.¡± He went back to reading.


    The young dragon sighed.


    <hr>


    At Greshold¡¯s Keep, night had fallen, and business was in full swing. That is, what business people felt safe to do. The previous two nights had seen the gate closed due to attacks by Shadowland forces. First, there was a single attack of a Doghead commando. The second night, it was an attack by a squad of six. Now people were sitting on pins and needles, because traditionally, when the Dogheads did this, the third time, the attack would be one of massive forces aimed at the gate. Many stores were closed, and there had been a steady queue of people at the Dragon Web all day, heading to safer locations, just in case, many of them burden down with their families¡¯ treasures.


    Gweir Blackthorne could feel the tension rising, but had not been idle as commander of Greshold¡¯s Keep either, so he was not surprised that shortly after it reached true dark, that the alarm gong rang. But that wasn¡¯t the only thing he was expecting.


    He and his officers were looking at a map of the area, completing their preparations. He reached for a neglected tea cup at his side, and contemplated what he saw.


    There was a knock on his office door. ¡°Right on schedule,¡± Gweir muttered.


    ¡°Almost to the minute,¡± Gabon replied. The second officer turned to look at the door.


    Gweir took a sip of the tea sitting in his cup, now cold, but he swallowed the astringent liquid anway. Dylan, stationed outside as receptionist, opened the door. ¡°Master -¡± he began, but then an angry red Dragonkin pushed through.


    ¡°I must object,¡± the dragonkin said. He rushed to the map table where Gweir was standing, towering over the Daoine man. ¡°I must object!¡± Slamming his hand on the map, scattering pieces that represented Gweir¡¯s defenses, his spikes glowed brightly in the lamplight. They might have glowed even in an unlit room. ¡°You can¡¯t just keep closing the gate like this. Just -¡±


    ¡°Just because we had an attack at the start of business? The third attack in a row?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the third closures in a row,¡± Shulan said. ¡°How are we supposed to do any business?¡±


    Gweir sipped his tea, refusing to react to Shulan¡¯s attempt to intimidate him. ¡°You¡¯ve been here long enough to know Doghead tactics, Master Shulan.¡± He took another sip. ¡°First comes the feint, one not expected to succeed, and then a slightly larger one to probe defense readiness. And then...¡±


    The attack gong sounded out once more. Shulan lost some of his bellicose stance, looked around the room. ¡°Did you stage this?¡±


    The gong sounded five strikes, which meant forces marching on the keep. After a pause, it sounded again ¨C forces setting up for attack. Outside, the noise of people moving in position grew loud.


    Gweir put his tea cup down. ¡°Imagine, if you will, an attack of Doghead troups surging through the gate at this moment, striking everyone at random. What would happen to your precious account books if that happened? Or even the loss of your Web station? It¡¯s happened before. Don¡¯t you remember the time Brightwater burned?¡±


    The post commander stood up. He was neither as tall as Shulan nor as massive, but drawn up to his full height, he too could radiate intimidation and command, almost as aggressively as the dragon. He put on his helm. ¡°Excuse me. I have a battle to see to.¡±


    ¡°Time to get to safety, Master Shulan,¡± Marlhaut, one of Gweir¡¯s officers, said, already helmed and armed. ¡°Allow me to escort you to your security area.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t need your help,¡± the dragon said, almost growling. He slipped into nospace and was gone.


    Gweir went up the tower, followed by his officers. It was a dark night. It would be a while before the moon rose. There were rows of torches flickering around the keep, but it was impossible to make out the true massing of troops busily moving to surround the fortress. ¡°We need Lea to get busy with the lighting,¡± he said. ¡°I hate working this much in the dark. Someone go see if the Magic Guard needs any help.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s supposed to be at it,¡± Gabon said, putting on his helmet. ¡°She¡¯s never failed us yet.¡±


    A shower of arrows hit against the fort shields, and skitted off.


    ¡°Who¡¯s holding the shields tonight?¡± Gweir asked.


    ¡°Rabin and Jeran,¡±Gabon said, ¡°At least that¡¯s what the schedule says. Good people with the shields, so I hope so. The Magic Guard, well they do their thing, and don¡¯t always tell us. But they knew what to expect tonight. It¡¯ll be good people.¡±


    ¡°Make sure they have someone in reserve. And to back up Lea, too.¡± He sent Gabon on. ¡°Send a couple of runners up here. Once we can see what the damned dogheads are doing, I¡¯ll be using them.¡±


    Gabon saluted and headed out.


    Marlhaut walked up. ¡°The town...¡±


    ¡°Let me guess. The Bullrushes are clamouring to come inside the Hold. And the City Council. And half the town.¡±


    ¡°You got it. What do we do?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want anybody in the fort that could sabotage our defenses,¡± Gweir said. ¡°You and I both know the town is safer than the fortress right now. Let¡¯em kick their heels.¡±


    Suddenly a bright reddish light streamed out of the front of the keep.


    ¡°I see Lea finally got the magic done,¡¯ Marlhaut said.


    ¡°Dogheads must have had countermeasures. Lea¡¯s good or we still wouldn¡¯t have light,¡± Gweir said.


    In the front of the keep, Doghead troops were arrayed in their usual phalanxes, ten soldiers wide, with spears bristling. This time, they had brought siege engines, two trebuchets, a ram.


    ¡°Looks like they¡¯re using the same battle plan they used the last time,¡¯ Gweir said. ¡°Time for the mortars.¡±


    ¡°Probably some war ritual they do,¡± Gabon said, returning. Two young bauchan soldiers, also in helmeted gear followed behind him. ¡°Go run to Shindir. Tell him Gweir says now.¡±


    The young man ran off.


    Soon, balls of magic force were falling upon the troops below. One aimed at the trebuchet, but the siege engine glowed with it¡¯s own magic shield, and the energy shattered, hitting the footsoldiers as well.


    ¡°Magic Guard is going to have its work cut out for it tonight. Get the fire missiles ready.¡± Gweir paced along the tower wall.


    The ram neared. A different magic mortar hit it, black light that sizzled through its protective canopy, which burst into flame. Showers of arrows hit the soldiers. Balls of flame sent from physical catapults hit the troops below, causing burning and screams wherever they landed. Shot from the troops below bounced against the wall. Most of them bounded off the magic shields. Occasionally one got through gaps in the protection, and and a flash of flame would burst out, quickly extinguished by the forces manning the walls. This happened more than Gweir liked.


    ¡°Are they finding new solutions to our defenses, or have our shots been bad?¡± he asked, as he watched the battle continue.


    ¡°Could be both,¡± Gabon said. ¡°We¡¯ll figure it out later.¡±


    Just as the ram finally made it close to the position to attack the gate, another mortar sailed across the sky and landed on the trebuchet, This time it burst into satisfying flame. A cheer came from the people manning the defenses. Shortly after, another took out the ram.


    ¡°I see Lea¡¯s people found their solution after all,¡± Marlhaut said, with a satisfied nod.¡±


    ¡°And now for the conclusion,¡± Gweir said.


    There was a great cloud of spears, arrows and shot from both sides.


    A Doghead commander road up towards the gate. He dismounted, dropped his trousers, and bending over showed his bum to the gate.


    ¡°Well, I guess honor is satisfied,¡± Marlhaut said.


    A lucky arrow got the commander while he was bent over. A knot of dogheads surrounded him and dragged him away. Horns were sounded, and the dogheads began a surprisingly orderly retreat


    Slowly but surely, all that was left on the field under the eerie light Lea still maintained were the dead and the dying, the ruins of the dogheads¡¯ siege equipment and the smell of death.


    Finally Gweir gave out a loud sigh and took off his helmet.


    ¡°What a bloody stupid ritual,¡± Marlhaut said.


    ¡°What a bloody stupid place.¡± Gweir said. ¡°Let¡¯s hope that¡¯s the last one of these for a while.¡±


    Lea¡¯s light went out.


    Gweir went back to his office once the fighting was over, and was ready to begin writing down some preliminary dispatches, when he noticed someone had placed an envelop on his desk. It bore the seal of the Royal Guard at Ynys Afel. As he read it, his face, tired as it was from the battle began to lighten up, and a real smile broke across his face.


    ¡°Good news?¡± Gabon asked, coming in and removing his helmet.


    Gweir looked up. ¡°Maybe. Maybe we¡¯ll be getting out of this place, finally. I¡¯ve been called to report to Ynys Afel in three days.¡±


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s interesting,¡± Gabon said, nodding. ¡°Maybe the Hawk has finally found something worthwhile for you to do besides fight with Shulan and Jared Redbeard. Maybe he¡¯ll be sending us to that fight back west.¡±


    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s better than that. It¡¯s not from the Hawk¡¯s office.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± Gabon went over to the tea service, and put a kettle on to make a fresh pot.


    ¡°It¡¯s from the Birch.¡±

 Day 21 of the Ice Month

    Chapter 9


    Dogheads, also known as Conchinds or Concani are a group of Shadowlanders that live in the Mountains of Twilight and the Black Marsh not far from the Boundary Land gate of Greshold¡¯s Keep. Physically, they resemble Daoine bodies with greyhound-like heads, not to be confused with werewolves or other animal-to-Si shapeshifters. Theirs is a warrior culture, with great emphasis with military training from early childhood, and an intense attention to vengeance rituals. Their major allegiances are a pact with Lady Bercha and also an alliance with Dubh Derg, the king of the Hill Trows.


    Before the Sundering, they were said to have inhabited the lands around Brightwater and the mountains beyond, and have done major attacks both at Greshold¡¯s Keep and around Brightwater to reclaim the ancestral lands they believed were wrongly taken from them.


    -Dictionary of the Peoples of the Shadowlands, by Mellt Purslaine of the Alder Branches


    The only sound contesting with the wind was a group of six people riding strange beasts across the desert. Bird-headed, dromedary bodies with wings, and claws on their front legs, they moved easily across the landscape. Crossing one final ridge, they paused at the top for a moment.


    Violetta Greenleaf looked at the scene below her, and her heart quickened a bit as she realized that they were at the end of their journey. It had been a long, dusty trip across the desert, cool and dusty during the day, cold and dangerous at night, when things native to the place came out to find what they could find to hunt. Still, they crossed the desert with only one attack by a lone lilu, and no one, not even one of the Syenah griffins, had gotten injured. And now they were here.


    The ruins of Xendo¡¯s freehold glared under the midday sun, the jagged shapes of ruined stone walls surrounding the mouth of what once was a productive mine. A large rockface arose behind it, not exactly a mountain, but too big to call a hill. It was barren of anything but stone and gravels, black in the brilliant light, a long ridge that ran east and west for most of a mile.


    Near to the front of it, nestled just outside of ruins, was a small shack made of chunks of stone wall and bits of wood. Stacks of broken stone formed pile after pile surrounding it to the right of the structure.


    ¡°Quite the sight,¡± Xhindi said, pulling up next to Violetta. ¡°Not exactly what you were expecting, eh?¡±


    She shook her head. ¡°I didn¡¯t know what quite to expect, but I didn¡¯t realize it was so small a place,¡± Violetta said.


    ¡°It never was all that much. A place for the miners to live, a place to sort the stones as they dug them up, rockpiles of unwanted stone. I doubt if there were ever more than twenty people here at one time. Not enough water for much more. Not enough money made to haul more in.¡± Xhindi said, nodding. ¡°Still it produced some of the best black opals, and there were always a few willing to brave the rock for dreams of wealth.¡±


    He gave his reins a shake. ¡°Well, looking at it won¡¯t get us there.¡± Slowly the line of griffins moved out.


    When they reached the bottom, they saw no movement, no smoke from the chimney of the shack. The wind echoed, playing with a rope hanging from the roof, attached to a leather bucket. From time to time it hit the side of of the building.


    ¡°Piter?¡± Xhandi said, dismounting. ¡°Rashan? You around?¡±


    There was no answer. One of the griffins gave out a call, a sharp caw, sounding something like an overly loud raven. A small rodent looked up, then ran for cover among the rocks. That was the only response.


    Violetta slipped off her griffin, giving it a pat on the neck. ¡°Maybe they¡¯re in the mine?¡±


    ¡°Could be.¡± Xhindi sniffed the air. ¡°I¡¯m not sure I like the smell of things around here.¡±


    The rest of them dismounted. Ashira, Xhandi¡¯s lieutenant, took the reins and secured the beasts, while the rest headed for the shack.


    ¡°Stay behind me, woman,¡± Xhandi said. His aura flared, and he gave a hand sign to his men. They quietly readied, but did not unsheath their weapons. ¡°Something feels, smells wrong.¡±


    He went over to the door to the ramshackle house, and knocked. ¡°Piter?¡±


    There was no answer.


    Xhandi tried the door, and a waft of something awful came out. The color drained from his face and his eyes narrowed. Violetta tried to peek over his shoulder, but he stopped her and slammed the door shut the door and turned and blocked the door.


    ¡°No, no. You don¡¯t want to see what¡¯s inside there. You don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Piter...?¡± Ruath, one of his team asked.


    Xhandi nodded. ¡°Torn up. I couldn¡¯t tell what did it.¡± He gently shoved Violetta towards his men. ¡°Give me a minute.¡±


    He walked around the side of the building, and after a moment, they could hear him retching. Nobody spoke, but when he came back, he had walked all the way around the shack. He took a long pull from his water bottle, swished it around his mouth and spat.


    ¡°No sign of anybody breaking in. Whatever did...that...to Piter was let in through the door,¡± he said.


    ¡°You think it was Rashan?¡± Ashira asked. He fingered a touchstone at his waist, connected no doubt to a magic shield device, but didn¡¯t activate it.


    ¡°He wasn¡¯t that type,¡± Ruath said. ¡°A real desert rat. No way he would have lost it out here after all this time.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re probably right,¡± Xhindi said. ¡°Go look down by the mine opening. Let¡¯s see if we can find him.¡±


    The men filed off. Xhindi took another drink of water.


    ¡°Are you all right?¡± Violetta asked.


    He shook his head. ¡°This is going to be a case for the DIC. That room stank of Blazendraught.¡±


    ¡°Blazendraught?¡± Violette¡¯s eyes went wide.


    ¡°Some, shall we say, rogue dragonkin like to use it to interrogate Darion and even Daoine folk. Dragonblaze, the one medicine all need, and often carry with them. It never causes suspicion. Yet it has this one power ¨C making non-dragonkin give out all their secrets. It kills them in the end, pretty much dissolving them from the inside out. Not a pleasant sight...or smell. We jinn are gifted in the odor department. Something about us being the children of air and fire. I¡¯m still trying to get the smell and taste of it out of my nose and mouth.¡±


    He breathed deeply. ¡°I don¡¯t think they¡¯ll find Rashan among the living.¡±


    ¡°But why?¡± Violetta asked, obviously confused by the turn of events. ¡°Why attack two wildcat miners?¡±


    ¡°Perhaps it wasn¡¯t anything to do for the mine. Perhaps the original attack that ruined this place didn¡¯t have anything to do with whatever artifact they discovered. You said your friend hid something, but he or his body was never found. Could they be searching for that?¡±


    Violetta¡¯s eyes widened.


    ¡°We better find it and leave here quickly.¡± Xhindi was interrupted by a shout down from the mine. ¡°The kill didn¡¯t look fresh, but I only got a glimpse. It could be there are still watchers here. We need to be gone.¡±


    <hr>


    The offices of the military forces that protected Ynys Afel were labyrinthine. It was divided into several sectors; those run directly as the Royal Guard, under the Hawk, master of King Bear¡¯s forces, the Redsticks sector, which controlled most of the rest of the military, the Magic Guard in their own sector sealed off from the others, and finally the offices of the Birch, who ran special sorts of operations ¨C intelligence gathering, covert actions, interdicting enemies in ways that minimized regular military for both security and diplomatic reasons.


    Today, after his summons from Greshold¡¯s Keep, Gweir Blackthorne followed an officer through the maze off offices into an eastern wing of the building, passing through multiple sets of doors each guarded by two guards in formal uniforms who checked their papers, and waved them through.


    If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    ¡°That was the last checkpoint,¡± Gweir¡¯s companion said. He pointed to a final door. ¡°Here is where you go next. I¡¯ll be out here waiting to escort you back.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, sir,¡± Gweir said, nodding.


    The officer knocked, heard the voice say something, and opened the door. Gweir stepped through.


    Bedwyr, known as the Birch, sat at his desk. It was a huge desk, of finely carved wood, meant to impress, but had only the smallest sheaf of papers on it. The room was very sparsely decorated ¨C a file cabinet, a bookcase, a shelf of mementos. Bright dragonfire lights lit the room. There was no window.


    Gweir walked in. He was dressed in the uniform of the Boundary Guards, black silk trimmed with silver over mail. He stood at attention and saluted neatly.


    ¡®Captain Blackthorn of the Boundary Guards reporting as summoned, sir.¡±


    The Birch looked down at his paperwork. ¡°Gweir Blackthorn, consort of Lady Elaine of Allynwood. You have come to my attention because of your work at Greshold¡¯s Keep including reports of how you have worked with both Shulan of the Dragon Web and Jared Redbeard, and with the resident Magic Guard circle as well. Your handling of the recent smuggling attempt led Jared Redbeard himself wrote a letter of commendation Well done.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Lord Birch.¡± Gweir allowed himself just the tiniest flash of a self-satisfied smile. ¡°I couldn¡¯t have done it without my personnel.¡±


    ¡°Indeed. The stealth, efficiency, and teamwork shown by your men have been noted,¡± the Birch said, with a nod of approval. ¡°Good personnel make a difference. But it takes good leadership to make it all come together.¡± He looked up at Gweir. ¡°These are qualities I am always on the lookout for. I have asked the Hawk to borrow you for a time.¡±


    Gweir felt a swell of excitement at that news. ¡°Me, sir? Does this include my men?¡±


    Birch handed a paper to the captain. ¡°These are the names of those I am thinking of. Look over the list. You know your men better than I do. I will be integrating them with one of my units. You know what I do. We don¡¯t just guard the Boundry Lands. We find out what the enemy is thinking and take it to him, long before he gets a chance to strike.¡±


    Gweir nodded. ¡°Yes sir.¡±


    ¡°You are aware of the recent burst in smuggling and what is being smuggled.¡±


    The younger man nodded.


    ¡°We need to get to the bottom of this. Some dragonkin house has to be involved. We know Shadowlands people are. I¡¯m forming a special unit to work on this. I want you and your people on board with this. I¡¯ll be bringing in Sael Havron of the Maple Leaves as your training officer to start.¡±


    ¡°Yes sir. Havron...he¡¯s just about a legend to us, sir. I can¡¯t tell you how much I¡¯m honored, sir.


    ¡°Wait until he puts you through his paces.¡± Birch smiled at the man. It was a smile that held a touch of warning. ¡°Tomorrow report back with your comments about the list, and after that, you will have a week to get your affairs in order. Training is intense, and while there, you will be out of the dragon web. Make sure your lady knows that.


    ¡°Yes, sir.¡±


    ¡°Good luck, and welcome to the team,¡± Birch said. ¡°No need to tell you this is not to be spoken of,¡±


    ¡°No, sir.¡±


    ¡°Good. I¡¯ll see you tomorrow.¡±


    Gweir saluted again, and stepped smartly out of the office.


    <hr>


    It was late afternoon at the White Circle compound, a quiet time, when the magical studies students had finished their classes for the day, the Magic Guard candidates were off in their training facilities, and few, besides those using the library, were walking the halls. It was a good time for peace and reflection; the Oldest had lit a stick of a soothing incense, trying to do just that, but her mind was too busy to really fall into the state she was hoping to. ¡°So much happening, so many decisions to make, so many pieces of the puzzle to put together,¡± she said. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, and tried once more.


    There was a knock on the door. Sighing, she got up off her meditation cushion and went to her desk. ¡°Come.¡±


    The door opened, and Ruell, one of the members of the White Circle¡¯s inner membership, stepped in. Dressed as she was, in a long white robe with a hood, he carried a sheaf of papers in his hand. ¡°Some of our information requests have started to come in,¡± he said. ¡°I just received a report from Lea Whiteleaf, from Greshold¡¯s Keep. They¡¯ve had a full three-stage attack by the Dogheads.¡±


    ¡°An honor foray? Or the forebearer of something more?¡± the Oldest asked. ¡°Although, could we even tell yet?¡±


    ¡°Lea seems to think it was an honor event, in retaliation for the smuggler raid a few days earlier. She has a pretty full set of notes on the attack.¡± He handed the report to her.


    ¡°Lord Birch has sent a request for coordination on a new task force he¡¯s forming to combat smuggling in and around the Boundary Lands.¡± Ruell handed her an envelop with the royal seal.


    The Oldest looked at it thoughtfully. ¡°I wonder what Bedwyr is cooking up.¡±


    ¡°And we have several reports from our field agents in the Shadowlands. There¡¯s gossip among the merchants about Bercha and some Dragonkin deal.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s always gossip about that,¡± the Oldest said, sighing. ¡°If it¡¯s not Bercha, it¡¯s with Gwrgi Garwlwyd, Duke of the Dogheads, or it''s with Dubh Derg, king of the Trows, or with Twr Ochren itself, as if Aife would bother with them. My aunt would be more likely to have them served in her dinner hall.¡±


    ¡°This bit of gossip involves someone with connections to Jared Redbeard, maybe.¡± Ruell gave the Oldest a knowing smile. ¡°And the talk was that this person had connections with one of the Dragonkin houses.¡±


    This piqued the Oldest¡¯s interest. ¡°Not Briarwood and Flysch?¡±


    He shook his head. ¡°No. Informant didn¡¯t catch the name, though. Didn¡¯t think it was one of the transport companies.¡±


    ¡°We need to know more.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± he said. ¡°Working on it.¡± Ruell handed her the last of the reports, then turned and left.


    She rubbed her forehead. ¡°I¡¯m not seeing something. I can feel it, but I just don¡¯t know¡­¡± Picking up the letter from the Birch she was about to break the seal when there was another knock on the door.


    ¡°Oldest?¡± It was the soft voice of Ethne, her assistant.


    She put the papers on her desk in a drawer, then answered, ¡°Come.¡±


    Ethne opened the door. ¡°You have a visitor, Oldest. Lady Gwenyth Allynswood, of the Alder Branches.¡±


    This surprised the Oldest. ¡°Well, send her in. Bring some tea. I suspect this is about her daughter. Then stay close; I might need you to run some interference.¡±


    He nodded, then stepped back out, soon to return, followed by a tall, blue robed woman, black of hair and blue of eye, almost the double of her oldest daughter, Lady Elaine Allyns. The visitor swept into the room, moving somewhere between agitated and awed, tinged with hopefulness.


    ¡°Lady Gwenyth, welcome,¡± the Oldest said, standing and waving her guest to one of the visitor¡¯s chairs. She took her seat once more. ¡°What brings such a distinguished member of the Alder Branches into my office on this fine Winter afternoon?¡±


    ¡°Ah, Oldest, it is a rather fine afternoon, I must admit. A touch chiller than I¡¯d really prefer, though. Still, the sunlight is wonderful.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the thing about winter. Look at my garden.¡± It had a layer of snow on it, marked by shrubs, and some plant stems. Small birds hopped across an area where someone had placed a dish of seeds. ¡°It¡¯s so different that it looks in summer when all is green and flowering, and yet it still has a certain charm worth looking at.Isn¡¯t it odd how life is like that?¡±


    ¡°Indeed. So much so.¡±


    ¡°So what brings you, dear lady, out of the Alder Branches?¡±


    ¡°Two years ago, I entrusted you with my most precious possession,¡± Lady Gwyneth said. ¡°I allowed Arriane to take up training in the White Circle¡¯s magic training.¡±


    The Oldest nodded. ¡°And she has been an excellent student. Still, this was noble deed, especially since your family has favored the Alder Branches for years beyond counting.¡±


    ¡°Until this generation. First her sister chose the Greenfellows after her schooling in Comrie. Her father told me that fighting with her over it would be a wasted


    effort, and since she was going to take over the estate after I came here, I gave in.¡± Lady Gwyneth shifted in her chair. ¡°It¡¯s not a bad path for someone running a place as big as Allynswood. Agricultural wisdom and magic can make a big difference. My grandmother made the same choice, and it made our lands bloom. Perhaps its why our family still holds the land, and hasn¡¯t had to move to Ynys Afel like so many other noble families, living off the largess of the King.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps,¡± the Oldest said. ¡°Still, children must find their own paths and callings. We can¡¯t live our dreams through them.¡±


    ¡°I know, I know,¡± Gwyneth said. She leaned her right elbow on her chair and cupped her cheek into her hand, staring out of the window. ¡°Arriane, though...I had such hopes for her. She finished her schooling early at Fohmer Hall, still a bit young for the advanced classes, so I decided to let her follow her own heart until she reached the right age. I was already here at Greenholt. All the good institutions have programs for the younger ones. I was hoping she would pick the Alder Branch program, but...¡±


    ¡°We did not seek her out. She found her own way to our door.¡± The Oldest looked at her visitor, wondering briefly if this need of her mother¡¯s was behind why Arriane had accepted her offer so quickly. Before she could order her thoughts about that, there was a knock on the door, and Ethne let himself in with a pot of tea, a tray of sliced fruit and small sweet cakes to go with it. With a touch of grace he placed it on a serving table, poured two cups of tea, and left the women to their discussion.


    ¡°The tea is from Brinda,¡± the Oldest said, after her assistant had left. ¡°As far as I¡¯m concerned, it¡¯s the best place on An Lar for growing tea. I hope you like it.¡±


    Gwyneth sipped. ¡°It¡¯s very good,¡± she said.


    The eldest picked up one of the cakes. ¡°Your daughter has become one of the brightest lights I have seen in a long time,¡± she said. ¡°We have been delighted she chose to study with us.¡±


    ¡°But I thought she was done with her studies here. She came to me yesterday and said you asked her to stay on for another year.¡± Gwyneth stated.


    ¡°I did indeed. It¡¯s an honor only given to the best and brightest.¡± The Oldest sipped her tea, then took a bite of her cake.


    ¡°This doesn¡¯t mean she¡¯ll end up in the Magic Guard, does it? We do our share of military duty, my family. My son-in-law is on active duty right now. But it¡¯s usually the men in our family. And the Magic Guard takes so much...¡±


    The Oldest smiled slightly, having picked on her visitor¡¯s anxiety. ¡°No, this is not a path for that, unless she chooses it. And it¡¯s only an obligation to one more year of deep magical studies, similar to what she¡¯s been studying, and learning about the White Circle. After that, she¡¯ll be free to do whatever she wants to do.¡±


    A wave of relief passed over Lady Gwyneth. ¡°Then perhaps there¡¯s still hope she¡¯ll follow the family tradition.¡±


    ¡°It is one of her possible choices,¡± the Oldest said, nodding.


    Gwyneth took one of the cakes. ¡°Children. They don¡¯t realize how they drive us crazy until they grow up and have children of their own.¡±


    The Oldest nodded. ¡°And even then, sometimes the lesson doesn¡¯t sink in well.¡±


    Gwyneth took a bite of her cake, not even thinking that the comment might, faintly be aimed at her. ¡°Well, when I return, I will let Arriane know she has my blessing for this internship. Maybe, when it finishes, you might put in a good word for the Alder Branches?¡±


    ¡°Perhaps,¡± the Oldest said, nodding.


    Shortly after this, Gwyneth took her leave. The Oldest took out her papers, ¡°At least that¡¯s one less thing to worry about,¡± she muttered, and opened the letter the Birch had sent her.

 Day 30 of the Ice Month – Brightening Day Eve

    Chapter 10


    Brightening Day ¨C a widespread holiday in the Sunlit Lands of An Lar, but not a common one among the Dragonkin. The festivities start on the last evening of the Ice Month, to mark the lengthening of days that are becoming noticeable after the dark of Ice Month and Darktide month before it. It is celebrated with big bonfires, feasting and exchanging small gifts. Courting couples may jump over the fire together, and some Bauchan traditions parade their livestock next to the flames for good luck. The next day continues the feasting, with family meals to mark the day and conversations about what to look forward to in the warm weather to come. In much of An Lar, there is still snow on the ground, but in the more temperate areas, the grounds may be already greening. There is a legend about the Winter Queen spirit going out that day to see if she needs more firewood. If she sees a bright day, then she¡¯ll get ready for her long summer nap and spring will come early. Records show that isn¡¯t necessarily so.


    Holidays of An Lar, Supplement to the Investigator¡¯s Manual   - DIC


    Melusine, the beautiful Lake Woman with green hair and the habit of magically doodling while she was thinking, sat in a little cafe in Comrie. Outside it was sunny, but still cold, and a layer of now dirtied snow edged the street. Even with the cold, the street and the cafe were filled with people. It was Brightening Day eve, the children were out of school, and the shops were busy with people buying supplies for the bonfire parties that would spring up all over town after night fell.


    Melusine, though, didn¡¯t seem particularly joyful. If anything, she looked stressed, tired, and her thoughts turned inward as she stared into the hot spiced tea in front of her, thick with cream. She gave it a stir and took a sip. Normally this drink helped brighten up her day, but at the moment, it couldn¡¯t budge her dissatisfaction.


    The door to the cafe opened up, and two women, one a tall, graceful Daoine woman dressed in a winter cloak trimmed with white fur, the other smaller, almost Bauchan looking woman dressed in a far less flashy woolen coat entered the building. The shorter woman looked around and spotted Melusine, and waved, although the Lake Woman didn¡¯t see it. Still, they moved through the crowded room towards her table.


    Gan Thistleberry took one of the seats, and sat down. ¡°Mel, are you all right?¡±


    Melusine suddenly looked up. ¡°Oh Gan! Happy Brightening day! I was just lost in my thoughts. You know how I get.¡±


    ¡°They must not be very nice thoughts,¡± Gan said. ¡°You look like you haven¡¯t been getting enough rest.¡±


    The Lake Woman shook her head. ¡°It¡¯s been a rough month.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. Grendal?¡± Gan said.


    Melusine nodded. ¡°Orvan and Tisha quit right before the holiday break. We¡¯re down two instructors and three assistants. And that¡¯s just the lower levels. I wonder how many people the board of directors is willing to lose?¡±


    Elaine, taking off her cloak, grimaced. ¡°Grendal always was a jerk. It¡¯s not that he¡¯s not smart. But I don¡¯t think he likes people.¡± Laying her cloak over an empty chair, she settled down next to Gan. ¡°I ordered. I hope you like my choices!¡±


    Melusine looked at Elaine. ¡°You know Grendal, too?¡±


    ¡°Of course she does,¡± Gan said. ¡°Back when we were young and students, Elaine, Violetta Greenleaf, Grendal and I got the nickname of the Golden Terrors, for all the troubles we got into, while keeping top grades at the school. Grendal and I came back after our higher studies. Violetta went off for work for Briarwood and Flysch. We all thought she was a little strange, but that sort of sealed it for us. You missed a lot getting sent to the Lake People school your parents sent you to.¡±


    ¡°I was being brave enough studying to become a teacher,¡± Melusine said. ¡°Oh you should have heard the fights about that one. ¡®What about our family traditions!¡¯ My mother was such a nag. Third child was supposed to specialize in fish management. But I hated fish, so I ran away and joined the Alder Branches. Now all she nags me about is getting married and giving her a green-haired grandchild. I think she¡¯s plotting on passing the fisheries job to her.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s almost what happened to me,¡± Elaine said. ¡°Except my mother is an administrator at Greenholt with the Alder Branches and got mad at me because I wanted nothing to do with them.¡±


    The waitress came back with a tray laden with sandwiches, small cakes, and two steaming mugs of spiced creamy tea.


    ¡°Oh what nice sandwiches,¡± Melusine said, as the waitress placed a plate in front of her. ¡°Asparagus and fried fish! You remembered!¡±


    ¡°I thought you said you didn¡¯t like fish,¡± Gan said, chuckling.


    ¡°To manage, you silly woman. What Lake person doesn¡¯t like fish to eat?¡± After all the meals had been passed out, and the waitress left, Melusine took a bite of her sandwich and continued.


    ¡°So, what¡¯s your story of mothers and careers, Elaine?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Well, after I finished my time at Master Gwaher¡¯s, Arris, my father¡¯s steward, who was really the one running the estate took me under his wing. Neither of my parents were very interested in the day to day running of the place. It¡¯s a big job, running a place like that, and Mother was far more interested in doing what work she could with the Alder Branches locally than that, and my father was, as usual, stuck in his history researches. But me, I had missed the old place so much during my schooling. I started going with Arris when he made his rounds, and learned a good bit about the people there, the needs of the farmers, the costs of management. Arris was a good steward, but I could see he was having a rough time with it.


    ¡°My mother almost had a fit when I told her I wanted to study with the Greenfellows. She, of course, had just assumed I would study with the Alder Branches, like her, because of family tradition and all that, but the Alder Branches don¡¯t teach much about estate management or the magics involved with agricultural production. ¡®Why would a high-born lady go to Greenfellows? That¡¯s just a school for stewards and yeoman farmers,¡¯ she said, more than once. ¡°It¡¯s not for great ladies of the realm.¡¯ She started to tease me and call me Farmer Ellie, but that just made me more determined.


    ¡°Was I just living up to being one of the Golden Terrors and refusing to follow tradition? Maybe, but I really think this is my calling. Shortly after I finished there, Mother got the call to go to the White Isle, and called me in to tell me the estate was now mine to play with. I think she expected me to be scared or frightened, but I was so excited. She still doesn¡¯t understand why I like this life.


    ¡°When Gweir and I wed, part of our agreement was that the control of the estate was mine, not his. I¡¯ve seen what¡¯s happened to some estates when the owners don¡¯t care ...Allynswood was heading that way, and would have been there if it wasn¡¯t for Arris. I popped up in the nick of time. And although Gweir is an excellent man, he is not cut out for this work, either.¡±


    ¡°Parents. May we all remember these stories when it¡¯s our time to let go,¡± Melusine said.


    ¡°How is Gweir doing, by the way?¡± Gan asked. ¡°You said he was down at Greshold¡¯s Keep?¡± Gan shivered. ¡°Not a place I want to be ever again.¡±


    ¡°He was there, but last week he told me he had been moved to a special assignment, and not to expect him to contact me for a while.¡± She sighed. ¡°I wish he¡¯d leave military service, but I guess that¡¯d be like asking me to give up my estate.¡±


    The conversation ebbed for a few minutes while they finished their lunch. Elaine took a sip of her tea. ¡°My, that¡¯s good. It¡¯s nice to know this old place has kept its charm all these years. We used to spend so much time here when we were in school. Remember, Gan? Think of all the mischief we used to plot right here!¡±


    ¡°I think listening to you two talk, I¡¯m glad I¡¯m not in charge of the upper classes,¡± Melusine said. ¡°The little ones take enough work to keep out of trouble, and Grendal¡¯s not making it any easier with what he¡¯s been doing.¡±


    ¡°May Grendal be gifted with the Platinum Terrors, not just golden ones.¡± Gan said, lifting her cup. ¡°And may those children all go onto wonderful lives for doing it!¡±


    The other two women lifted their cups in agreement.


    ¡°But seriously, Gan,¡± Melusine said. ¡°Is there nothing I can say to tempt you back? The children keep expecting you to come back. They ask me every day.¡±


    Gan reached out and patted her friend¡¯s hand. ¡°I¡¯m truly sorry about how things turned out, but it¡¯s a bit late for that. Today we¡¯re not just here to celebrate Brightening day and the return of longer days, and the spring that will follow, but also, I sold my house, and have a month to move.¡±


    Melusine looked shocked, but Elaine beamed.


    ¡°You two are still terrors, ¡°Melusine said.


    Shortly after that, Elaine and Gan said their farewells to Melusine and headed out to the countryside. Their carriage pulled into a long driveway and through a gate that announced ¡°Huldra¡¯s Livery Service¡±


    It looked like a farm, which it wasn¡¯t, not really. At first glance, it was more of a cross between a farm and a stockyard. A set of buildings, barn, stables, tack. A fenced area where there was all sorts of carts, wagons and other wheeled equipment, a carriage or two, mostly covered with tarps. In the fields surrounding the buildings, there were sheep, goats, horses, ponies, cattle, and even a few camels. Even with the light scattering of snow in places, it was easy to see how busy the place was, with all the tracks across muddied and snowy ground.


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°I¡¯ve never been to one of these places,¡± Mistress Gan said.


    ¡°Never?¡± Elaine asked. ¡°Not even when you left the White Isle to go teach?¡±


    ¡°Every time I moved, I just had a few things, or it was taken care of for me. First time I¡¯ve had to move a house¡¯s worth.¡±


    A woman came out of one of the barns. Obviously Fae but neither Daoine nor Bauchan, she was as tall as Lady Elaine, but instead of being willowy and slender, she was solidly built. She looked strong and capable and her face had a handsome, sun-touched look to it. Instead of flowing silk robes or practical woman¡¯s dress, she wore heavy work pants and sported a vest with multiple pockets and a heavy wool shirt against the chill, an outfit not uncommon for working Gruagechs, faes that specialized in animal husbandry.


    ¡°Welcome, Lady Elaine, Mistress Gan. Prompt as usual,¡± she said, with a nod of approval.


    ¡°You came highly recommended, Huldra¡± Gan said. ¡°Lady Elaine,¡± she said, nodding to her companion, ¡°said she got her favorite riding horse from you.¡±


    ¡°I did indeed,¡± Elaine said. ¡°And my husband Gweir was impressed enough to start buying animals here for the officers in his unit.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s high praise that you think that about Grif. I loved that horse. It was hard to let¡¯em go.¡±


    ¡°So, were you able to handle our request?¡± Elaine asked


    ¡°Come on and meet the girls,¡± she said.


    They walked up the path to where a decent sized wagon with two oxen harnessed to it.


    ¡°These girls are all-around gals,¡± Huldra pulled on her gloves as they walked. ¡°They¡¯re trained to cart and plow, but if you put¡¯em around a fine laddie when it¡¯s their bully time, they¡¯ll give you a fine calf and the best milk. Both of¡¯em are sweet tempered and don¡¯t mind other animals, either. Goats, cats, dogs...even chickens.¡±


    They stood in front of the wagon. Both cows were red, with a few light patches. The one on the left had a white patch on her nose. Huldra walked up to her, and gave her head a pat.


    ¡°This one is Blowie, and that¡¯s Cin,¡± Huldra said. Cin got a little scratch behind the ear.


    ¡°Ah, my girls, meet Mistress Gan. She¡¯s going to be taking you to a new home in a few days, where you¡¯ll have a nice pasture all of your own. She¡¯s a good woman. You¡¯ll like her.¡±


    Blowie flicked an ear and lowed. She seemed to be interested, and nuzzled Gan¡¯s hand. Cin blinked, not quite as sure.


    ¡°Blowie seems to have taken a fancy to you,¡± Elaine said, chuckling.


    Huldra turned to Gan. ¡°Do you know how to drive a team?¡±


    ¡°Not really,¡± said Gan. She gave Blowie a pat, then walked over to Cin and gave her a little scratch. ¡°I had done it a little when I was younger, but never as far as I¡¯m going with this one.¡±


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s a good start. Some of my customers have come in here terrified of the animals, and barely ever rode in a wagon, much less ever handled a team,¡± Hulda said. ¡°Spend some time here before you go, and see how they handle.¡±


    Gan nodded.


    While Gan walked around the wagon, a solid, well built vehicle with well made, iron-rimmed wheels, Elaine turned to Huldra.¡°Have they ever been shipped through the Dragon Web?¡±


    ¡°Once. Blowie handled it just fine. Cin got a little nervous about it all, but nothing that caused any problems. You¡¯re planning to go take the web part way?¡±


    Elaine nodded. ¡°Otherwise it¡¯d take two weeks on the road, and there¡¯s no way I¡¯d let her do that alone. For some reason, Gan thinks she needs to arrive at her destination without a driver. I haven¡¯t been able to argue her out of it. If they couldn¡¯t handle it, we¡¯ll have to make arrangements.¡±


    Huldra raised an eyebrow, but decided not to question the women further. ¡°They can handle it, I¡¯m sure. Kind of pricey, though, what they charge to ship wagon loads and animals.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the dragonkin for you. Charge just enough of an arm and a leg to put you into shock, but not so much you won¡¯t pay for it,¡± Elaine said.


    <hr>


    On the island of Sunderland, not far from the great shrine of Gandaran, is a rather plain stone building. The wall facing the street was windowless, smooth and gray, vitrified in old dragon technique. The front was distinguished only by a large red door emblazoned with a single eye. Above it were the words Dragon Investigation Agency; below it was the slogan: ¡°We Never Stop Investigating.¡±


    Anybody entering through that door would pause for a moment inside of a small, nondescript entry room, lit with a single dragonfire lamp, and a door with no handle. On it, was a sign. Please ring bell for entrance. A person ringing the bell would feel the sudden lurch of no space transport, then momentarily the door would open to the depths of DIC security. Where the nerve center actually was built was a closely guarded secret, but it was nowhere near the shrine in Sunderland. The light that percolated through the skylights always seemed thinner and less bright. Rumor was that it was actually in the old Dragonhame lands , but that probably was just a rumor.


    A pale blue dragonkin in a gray uniform walked into that room, carrying a leather satchel in one hand. As if totally used to the drill, he walked right up to the door and rang the bell, ignored the no space lurch, and when it was done, opened the door.


    The room he stepped into was rather utilitarian, filled with desks, about twenty of them. There were maps and noteboards on the walls, and the room was mostly lit by skylight, giving it a brightly lit feel, even though there were plenty of dragon fire lamps on the walls and some desks.


    A few heads looked up as he walked in, then turned back to their own work. The faces were mostly dragon kin, one full dragon, and a couple of Fae. About a dozen at their various tasks.


    A young female dragonkin was seated next to the front door. Her ruff colored a bit as she recognized him.


    ¡°Ah, Officer Byrony. Back to Headquarters again?¡±


    ¡°Just for a little while, Tansy. Still mostly doing field work right now. Is he in?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re in luck. He just got back from a meeting with Chairman Grimsbeard.¡±


    ¡°Lucky me,¡± Byrony said. ¡°Hope the old man hasn¡¯t set him off on another wild goose chase.¡±


    Tansy shrugged, and he headed for the back.


    There was a plain wooden door with the words Master Investigator on it. Byrony knocked twice.


    ¡°Come,¡± said a soft, just a little stern voice.


    Byrony opened the door. The Master Investigator sat by one of the few windows in the building, looking out over an expanse of sand and rock, dotted with some dryland shrubs. There was a wall enclosing it in, but beyond the wall, mountains rose in the distance. He glanced briefly at his visitor, then turned back to the window.


    ¡°Do you ever get the feeling that the world is like a bit a sand dune. Oh, it looks stable enough, until the wind starts blowing, and everything shifts round. Sometimes, it adds, sometimes subtracts, but it¡¯s never quite the same two moments in a row?¡±


    ¡°I...I hadn¡¯t thought of it like that,¡± Byrony said.


    The Master Investigator sighed. ¡°It¡¯s been coming to me for a long time like that. He rolled his chair away from the window and back toward his desk ¡°What have you got for me?¡±


    ¡°Something unexpected. Someone used Blazendraught to kill two isolated miners off in the Graylands.¡±


    ¡°Now that¡¯s unexpected. And so the dune shifts again. And this time in a real desert. Come tell me what you know.¡±


    ¡°Not much yet. I need a better team on it.¡± He handed the Master Investigator a small set of papers.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go see who¡¯s available.¡±


    The two disappeared into a deeper office.


    <hr>


    As night fell, bonfires were lit up across Greenholt and other places on the White Isle, a small cluster gathered around the Oldest.


    She looked at each of them. Ruell standing tall and and looking efficient, on guard and ready for anything. Sammisa, her green hair hiding beneath her hood, her robe hiding the extra warm layer she wore against the night¡¯s chill. Druan looking sharply at all of the people gathered here, because this type of magic made him nervous. Arash, from Harani ¨C black-eyed, like many of the people there, with bloodlines of the Jinn. Wise and cautious, able to whisk his way into almost any location unseen. Calm. Enide, small, slight, with huge blue eyes and a long mass of brilliant red hair. Her special skill was seeing the hidden. Merith. A Corrigan, a beauty when she wanted to be, a hag when she chose otherwise. Tonight she chose beauty in honor of the moment. Dylan, a loremaster whose delight was finding every new thing to learn. And there was the Youngest, Arriane, whose name would not be called by this circle for a whole year, nervous, anticipating, eager.


    The Oldest began the night¡¯s event with what had become for her a ritual statement. ¡°Tonight is the night of Brightening Day bonfires, when we are reminded that after the dark winter, the sun comes again, and after that, Spring must follow. It is a time to open up to the new.¡± She looked at each of her followers once again. ¡°It is also a night when the gate between the worlds was thin. Questions asked in the right way, at the right place can get answers. Perhaps not the answers we want; perhaps not the answers we understand. But still we will go ask, because that is one of the roles of the White Circle, to do what we can, to protect the land and the people on it. You, my friends, are my inner circle. Are you ready to see what we may find?¡±


    Each member gave their assent with a nod.


    Not far, an hour¡¯s walk from the White Circle¡¯s compound, was a special well. Water in this well was used for one thing only, and it was enclosed by a small dwelling.


    The well¡¯s guardian, on this night stood outside, watching as the questioners came. The guardian knew well to expect them.


    They walked into the sacred space in single file, all nine of them a silent line of hooded figures, all dressed in identical white cloaks, heads covered with white hoods. A fox popped his head up from behind a log as they neared, feeling the magic they were raising as they traveled, forgetting about the prey it had been tracking and bounded away in the dark.


    The line reached the door, then stretched out in a row, with the Oldest and the Youngest in the center. It was part of the ritual. Most of them had done this many times. Only for Arriane, and to a lesser degree, Sammisa, was this still new and touched with the awe of new potency. Arriane trembled just a little, because she, like the Oldest had a speaking role.


    The guardian helped up a torch. ¡°Who comes seeking knowledge this night?¡±


    ¡°I, the Oldest do.¡± She stepped forward.


    Arriane stepped up as well. ¡°I, the Youngest do.¡± There was the slightest waver to her voice.


    ¡°The road to knowing can be dark and hard, and sometimes, it can be better not to know,¡¯ the seer said.


    ¡°We accept what the powers will give us,¡± the Oldest replied.


    ¡°May they lead us to light,¡± Arriane said.


    The guardian nodded and opened the door.


    Inside there was no light, except the light glowing from the well¡¯s waters. In the pale blue light, they could just make out a shadowy figure. ¡°The Waters of Fate await you,¡± the voice of the figure, a woman, said.


    They filed in, making a circle of hooded figures around the seer in her seat.


    ¡°This is the Well of Fate,¡± she said. ¡°It draws from the waters that rise from the spring at the base of the Lifegiver¡¯s feet. Foreknowledge can be a tricky thing: is it warning you to get ready, or forcing you into the actions that lead to what it foretells?


    ¡°We have need to be warned,¡± said the Oldest.


    ¡°You do not get to choose which game Fate will play with you,¡± the seer warned.


    ¡°So be it,¡± Arriane responded.


    The ritual warnings over, t he seer nodded. She stood up, dipped a bowl into the waters of the well, then passed her hand over the bowl and chanted.


    ¡°Water is life,


    water is the birth


    and where all ends.


    Water be the mirror,


    water, open the gate,


    sacred water, show us!¡±


    The bowl of water began to glow, enough to hurt the eyes of the gathered questioners. It cast blue highlights and deep shadows over the seer¡¯s face. She breathed deeply of the light, of the scent of the water, and its glow seeped into her.


    It was an amazing thing to watch. Her body looked like it grew, grew, grew to fill the room, passing through each of the gathered circle, and beyond, an ethereal mist that engulfed them in an icy cold. Her face contorted, above them as if in pain, growing too long for its shape. She shuddered from head to foot, dropping the bowl, and collapsed into the chair, small again, the moonlight reflecting in the spilled water.


    ¡°I have seen,¡± she said.


    ¡°Tell us,¡± The Oldest said.


    ¡°We are ready,¡± said Arriane.


    ¡°A scholar with no school approaches. You will know her by a cloud of lights innocent as day dancing in the sun that will surround her,¡± the seer began. Her voice was tired, not much above a whisper. ¡°She searches for the missing, trapped, trapped by a lie, trapped by greed.¡± She took a deep breath. ¡°Brown hides behind black, black behind brown, confusing all. She will be given a key. Use it wisely, but beware the price.¡±


    The seer, her voice barely above a whisper at the end, collapsed into her seat fully, her head resting on the well¡¯s wall.


    The guardian stepped in. ¡°The seeing is over. May Fate look kindly on you.¡±

 Day 4 of the Brightening Month

    Chapter 11


    Sometimes, big investigations go strange places. It is your duty not just to solve the crime being investigated, but to be sure someone isn¡¯t using the investigation budget to send profit to their own connections by oversupplying the people in the field. If you suspect it, contact headquarters. Don¡¯t trust your local office or even the regional centers. It is part of our job not to let the various factions profit unreasonably on the budget of DIC and unbalance our ability to continue our work, sometimes even hoping to avoid prosecution that way. We have a team especially trained to handle this, and the Budget Protection Division absolutely never stops investigating.


    Watchouts List, Investigator¡¯s Manual   - DIC


    Gabbro Byrony, DIC lead investigator, popped out of no space and landed on the ground of the base camp his people had set up, his pale blue spikes glowing slightly in irritation as he looked around him. It was a busy scene, tents still going up and people, both Dragonkin and others, setting up equipment. He moved off the landing pad to let the next arrivals through, and watched as an enclosure fence, glimmering bright blue with arcane repulsive power began to shimmer, then there was a loud pop and the fence¡¯s light shut down abruptly. A small wisp of smoke came from the the far left of the field, and someone unseen cursed loudly.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t looking good,¡± Byrony muttered. He looked around and started walking to a tent with a sign marked Headquarters, busy with people going in and out. When he was about halfway there, a brown-scaled dragonkin woman stuck her head out. Her eyes and she dashed towards him.


    ¡°Rust, they put you on this case, too?¡± he said as he walked up.


    ¡°Byrony, good to see you, too,¡± Rust replied, her brown ruff half erect and dark from nerves. ¡°I got called in yesterday, but as you can see, we¡¯re still rather disorganized. It¡¯s this place. This is as close as we can get to the investigation sight through no space. Half of our equipment isn¡¯t working the way one would expect. The stuff that does work takes more monitoring.¡± The enclosure field began to glow again, and for the moment, it held. ¡°The Gray Lands, and all that. Half of the gear we brought in didn¡¯t work and we had to get replacements. I want to know who¡¯s going to pay for this? They better not pull it out of my budget!¡±


    Elsewhere in the enclosure someone yelled ¡°Watch out!¡± There was a loud crash, but this time, no smoke.


    ¡°My orders were to set up a base camp with lab and other facilities, but unless we caravan to the mine site, this is as close as we can get to the incident itself. I hope that by the time you get there and see for yourself, we¡¯ll be able to offer you all the assistance you need.¡± She looked around the site again. ¡°Or someone¡¯s head is going to roll, even if it¡¯s all the way to the top of the Exploration council for selling DIC crap.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s hope it doesn¡¯t come to that, although if anybody in logistics can get to the bottom of things, I¡¯m sure you can.¡± Byrony gave her a smile. ¡°Somebody must have thought this investigation was important if they put you in the field.¡± The color on her ruff brightened at his assurance. ¡°How far are we from the mine?¡±


    ¡°About three hours by the local mounts, Syenah Griffins. We hired some good ones, and their keepers. And guards. There are dangers in this desert. Lilus, which like nothing better to attack small groups of riders. The occasional Gallu, like them, but bigger and with a tendency to drag you off to their lair where they can eat you piece by piece, and sometimes hunt in clans, rogue Jinn who don¡¯t appreciate outsiders setting foot on what they think of as sacred land, Huwawas, some lion scorpions.¡±


    ¡°A friendly place, eh?¡±


    Byrony looked beyond to the encampment, to the desert beyond. ¡°Who¡¯s at the site?¡±


    ¡°One of the local DIC persons.¡± She looked at the notes in her hands, shuffling her feet while she thumbed through them. ¡°Albite Hessin. He came with the station master when the Jinn came in with the report and has stayed there since. I looked at his records. He has glowing reports from his supervisors. They don¡¯t just deal with the light travel here - they have to deal with people from Exploration and Trade. There¡¯s a lot of mineral wealth in the desert and the mountains that ring it, and none of the usual methods of getting it found and sold work very well here, so there¡¯s more need for sound hands to sooth the irritated.¡±


    Byrony nodded, and flicked his wings. ¡°Trade, Transportation and Exploration in the same room, and no doubt grasping for the same resources ¨C not a pleasant picture.¡±


    A green dragonkin, young, too young to be working for DIC as an employee, perhaps serving here as an intern, ran behind them.


    ¡°Toby, what did I tell you about running in the camp?¡± Rust said.


    The young one slowed down and dropped his head. ¡°Not to.¡±


    ¡°So why?¡±


    ¡°Arthan told me to get one of the Griffin keepers right now,¡± the boy said. ¡°He almost broke through the pen.¡±


    ¡°You know where they¡¯re at?¡± she asked.


    The boy nodded yes, and she let him go. She looked back at her companion and stuck the sheaf of notes she was still clinging to under her arm. ¡°I swear, I think somebody at headquarters decided to send out everything they could think of to test it out here. We don¡¯t get into the Gray Lands very often, but why all this crap that only half works, and interns, too? I¡¯m not a creche keeper.¡±


    Byrony rubbed the back of his head, thinking about some of the people who worked at the upper levels at DIC headquarters. ¡°Oh, I bet they did just that. And don¡¯t be shocked if they have family connections to people supplying the gear. Sorry you got caught up in it, Rust.¡± He sighed. ¡°So is anybody but this Hessin person securing the site?¡±


    ¡°Yosh Boudin. A pretty good man. I¡¯ve worked with him before. He was one of the first of the first contact team to arrive, just before I got here. I know he was planning to put the site under stasis if the device for it would work. We¡¯ve never tried it this far into the Gray Lands; he wasn¡¯t sure if it¡¯d behave like no space devices and refuse to function. There¡¯s so much we don¡¯t know about this area. So I sent one of my Daoine who has Magic Guard training with him. Between the two of them, they should be able to get something done.¡±


    ¡°What about the jinn man who reported it? Where is he?¡± Byrony asked.


    ¡°In my office. Let¡¯s go get some tea and get out of the dust. You can talk to him and decide what¡¯s next.¡±


    <hr>


    ¡°Well here we go, men,¡± Gweir said as the door of the troop transport were latched shut. "Say farewell to Greshold''s Keep."


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    The structure he was in was a bit larger than the usual no-space transport. A bench ran around the sides of the carriage, enough to comfortably seat about 20, and there were straps dangling from the roof that could support another 20, but oddly, there were only about 12 people on board. In the middle, where the soldiers could have been standing, the area was filled with an assortment of boxes, carrying much of their supplies for the next several weeks, rations and training goods. Gabon, his third, was doing a last minute check when the first door latch sounded, and he hurried to his seat, where a large, well cared for pack rested. He settled down next to it.


    With the last click, the general murmur of conversation died, the lights on the walls flickered, and they all felt the no-space lurch. Just as quickly, the lurch was over, and soldiers all through the compartment began to stand up and pick up their own packs.


    ¡°Duval, you and Rictor oversee the unloading of the carriage,¡± Gabon said. ¡°Alandis, you and Finnen help. Grab others if you need them.¡±


    Suddenly, the front door of the carriage rolled open.


    Gweir blinked against the bright light pouring in from outside, stood up and hefted his own large pack, and walked outside of the carriage. While the men whose task it was to move their equipment out got busy hauling boxes out of the carriage, he stood for a moment looking around the spot they found themselves in.


    Gabon walked up next to him. ¡°Well, we made it. Odd way to get out of the keep, though, if you ask me.¡±


    ¡°I thought you hated it there,¡± Gweir said, putting down his pack, and rubbing the back of his neck. ¡°Been too long since I had to carry gear like this.¡±


    ¡°I do hate it there,¡± Gabon replied. ¡°It¡¯s just...this assignment seems odd to me. What¡¯s the Birch got up his sleeve? I¡¯ve heard rumors about things his boy have gotten involved in.¡± He turned around and looked at one of the lower ranked men, who had put his pack on the ground and was sitting on it. ¡°Hey Thibbit!¡±


    The soldier, a young Bauchan man, barely old enough to be in the military, looked up with sleepy eyes. ¡°Yes, sir?¡±


    ¡°Go help them get the carriage unloaded. We need to get the rest of the group here right away.¡± Gabon pointed at the carriage and the activity most of the rest of the lower ranks were engaged in.


    Reluctantly, Thibbit got up, leaving his pack where he dropped it, and went to join the unloading. He muttered, ¡°You could have asked me to start with, sir,¡± then hurried off to join the others.


    ¡°I wonder what made the Birch put him on the list,¡± Gabon said, turning back to Gweir. ¡°He¡¯s too young, if you asked me.¡±


    Gweir shrugged. ¡°He¡¯s a good lad. Maybe he¡¯s just not used to being awake during the morning any more.¡±


    ¡°Probably true for most of us, after all that time at Greshold¡¯s Keep. It¡¯s going to be odd, working in the sunlight.¡± Gabon scuffed at the dirt while he watched the soldiers pile up the crates of supplies.


    ¡°Well, we¡¯re not in the Boundary Lands any more,¡± Gweir said. ¡°Even the air is better.¡±


    ¡°I know the location of the training base is secret, but I wonder where we¡¯re at? What do you think, Gweir? You¡¯ve traveled more than me.¡±


    The two men looked around. The place they were standing in was rocky country, not much more than grass and a few shrubs surrounding them, although the land rose, not far beyond them, with trees growing as the land ascended. Beyond that there was a range of mountains. The only snow to be seen was at the very top of the mountains. ¡°It looks like the Gray Mountains, near Harani,¡± Gweir said. ¡°Or maybe the Rises down south. It¡¯s not very cold. The Rises might be more right. Harani mountains get more snow than this.¡±


    ¡°The Rises, huh,¡± Gabon said. ¡°Never been that far south before, if that¡¯s where we¡¯re at.¡±


    As they looked, the men got the last of the boxes out of the carriage, and momentarily after that, the carriage disappeared.


    ¡°Well, we better enjoy this last moment of nothing to do,¡± Gweir said. ¡°Once the rest of the men get here, and Havron comes out, I bet that¡¯ll be the last quiet we¡¯ll have for a while.¡±


    The men that came with him must have had the same feeling. About five of them copied Thibbit, putting their packs down and sat. A few others milled around the site.


    The field was mostly empty, except for two noticeable buildings. One was a large, and squat, very plain except for a row of windows down the side they could see.


    ¡°Well that¡¯s too well lit for a warehouse,¡± Gabon said, looking at it. ¡°Bet that¡¯s where they¡¯ll cram us in.¡±


    Gweir nodded. ¡°It looks big enough to house fifty or more. Don¡¯t think we¡¯ll really feel crammed in.¡±


    Not far from it was a more Daoine-style structure, with fine carving around the entry and elaborate stonework that echoed the mountains beyond, and a small garden to one side. Two guards kept watch at the door.


    ¡°And that fancy looking place, that¡¯s the offices. And maybe even where Havron beds down, I bet. Look at the guards. Not formal wear, not everyday soldier gear either. They look tough and ready for something. And what¡¯s that thing they¡¯re wearing on their left arm, anyway? I¡¯ve never seen anything like that in military gear.¡±


    From their distance, it looked like some sort of leather arm cover, but it was studded with something, not spiky but flat.


    ¡°I guess if we need to know we¡¯ll be finding out soon enough,¡± Gweir said.


    Beyond both of those two structures were sheds and other buildings of indeterminate purpose.


    ¡°Maybe the boys have the right idea,¡± Gabon said and unslung his pack and laid it on the ground.


    ¡°You can sit if you want,¡± Gweir said. ¡°It¡¯s all right by me.¡±


    ¡°I think not, sir,¡± Gabon replied. He very seldom called Gweir sir, even with the difference in ranks, when it was just the two of them talking. This made Gweir raise an eyebrow.


    ¡°Just trying to be a good example,¡± he said.


    Shortly after that, the carriage reappeared on its landing area. ¡°Marlhaut must have had them queued up and ready to load,¡± Gweir said as the Dragon Web technicians gathered around the carriage to secure and open it.¡±


    ¡°I¡±ll bet he did,¡± Gabon replied. ¡°At least he didn¡¯t have all the goods to deal with. And in about ten minutes. I bet there¡¯ll be a lot of grumbling once they get out of his earshot.¡±


    The carriage door was opened, and the second half of Gweir¡¯s men disembarked. Dylan, Gweir¡¯s Second spotted the two men and walked over to join them with a brisk walk.


    ¡°I haven¡¯t smelled air this good in I can¡¯t remember when,¡± he said.


    ¡°Since you got to the Boundary Lands, I bet,¡± Gabon said.


    ¡°The air wasn¡¯t all that great where I grew up. Brickmaking and pottery works and a little iron work don¡¯t do great for the local air. I had to journey up into the mountains to get air this clear,¡± Dylan replied. He took a deep breath. ¡°Ah, I don¡¯t know where we¡¯re at, but it¡¯s lovely.¡±


    ¡°Say that after Havron has you in such a tired sweat you don¡¯t even notice,¡± Gabon said.


    ¡°I think I¡¯d rather face Havron and the sunshine than another day of night work at Greshold¡¯s Keep, any day. Let him work me.¡± Dylan looked around at the location. ¡°What is this? A parade ground?¡± he asked, indicating the large field they were on. It was mostly well packed ground, with few rocks and very little grass. It was obvious that many feet over a long time had used it.


    ¡°More likely the practice grounds,¡± Gabon. ¡°No trouble with the transport?¡±


    ¡°None whatsoever. Marlhaut had everybody lined up in ranks right after you left. Soon as they opened up, he marched them in, made sure they sat down, and then they closed the doors.¡± Dylan replied.


    Gweir and Gabon exchanged glances, and Gabon gave his commander a knowing smile.


    Dylan shifted his pack straps. ¡°Now what?¡±


    The group of men milling around the field grew as the last of the men exited from the transport. There were about twenty of them, plus the officers. Some were familiar faces: Alandis, Tobin his Century, Ermid, Finnen, Garin. Some were people Gweir hadn¡¯t worked directly with much, but the Birch had put on his list.


    ¡°Greenbriar showed up at the last minute, right after you left, and saw us off. He looked kind of unhappy about it all,¡± Dylan said. ¡° I guess he didn¡¯t like being given the command.¡±


    Gweir shrugged. ¡°Being recalled from Ynys Afel to a pit like Greshold¡¯s Keep can make you that way,¡± he said. ¡°Still, he¡¯s a good man and has worked at the keep before. He ought to do fine, if he doesn¡¯t let Shulan bully him too much.¡±


    ¡°Not our worry any more,¡± Gabon said, scratching the back of his neck. ¡°At least for awhile. Are they going to be sending us back after our training?¡±


    ¡°I have no idea,¡± Gweir said. ¡°They didn¡¯t tell me anything about what we¡¯ll be doing after this training, but who knows? That¡¯s for the Birch and the Hawk to figure out between them. But I don¡¯t ever remember serving with someone who was under the Birch¡¯s authority in any of my postings.¡±


    ¡°Considering how the Birch runs his branch, even if they were under his command, you¡¯d never know it,¡± Marlhaut, his First said, coming up to join them. ¡°His procedure is to remain hidden, even in plain sight. I guess we¡¯re going to learn some of that here.¡±


    ¡°No doubt,¡± Gweir said, nodding. ¡°Expect some hard work over the next few weeks.¡±


    The door in the office building opened up. The guards sharply saluted as a single man exited, followed by a small group of other uniformed people, most in the colors of regular military, but several in the bright blue uniform of the Magic Guard.


    Marlhaut barked orders to the group of soldiers, and they formed up in their lines.


    ¡°I guess we¡¯re about to find out what we¡¯re here for,¡± Dylan said.


    ¡°Looks that way,¡± Gweir said, and went to take his place at the head of his troops.

 Day 5 of the Brightening Month

    Chapter 12


    On Pixie Dust


    All pixies produce a fine, dust-like powder with magical properties. They particularly produce this when they are afraid and trying to hide, but sometimes will do this when they are especially happy.


    What does the dust do? When pixies use it, it helps them camouflage themselves, where they cast a glamour that lets them appear like part of the background, a leaf on a tree, a flower in a garden, a stone or other bit of the background. If a non-pixie ingests a large quantity of it, they may hallucinate, usually pleasant scenes that involve the feeling of flying away to a marvelous location, sometimes with visions of taking place in adventures there. If a susceptible person gets it in their eyes, they may have visions of distorted reality, like seeing a bear or lion standing where the pixie was.


    There are alchemical formulae that use pixie dust to create illusions of great strength and to hide objects in plain sight.


    Because of the druglike effects of pixie dust and its use in alchemy, there has grown a black market in the dust, and a nasty business of pixie rustling has arisen; pixies as a rule have been driven out of many areas because of this, and live in mostly remote areas because of the trade.


    People of the Aos Sidhe, whether Daoine or Darion, because of their inborn immunity to most common glamours are immune to the camouflage effects, although the drug effect when refined by modern methods can be quite potent. Some people are strongly allergic to the dust.


    The Guide to Pixies and Other Small Beings by Tarry Gebrin


    Just after the sun managed to rise above the horizon, Byrony passed Rust as he left the headquarters tent on his way to the assembly center where he would meet the rest of the team heading to Xendo¡¯s Freehold. His face was already wrapped in a thin fabric scarf to protect him from the ever present dust and resting on the top of his head, snugged between two of his spikes was a pair of tinted goggles.


    ¡°A real desert Dragon look,¡± Rust said.


    ¡°It¡¯s better than breathing sand,¡± he replied. He touched the tip of his cloth covered nose as if to emphasize the point.¡±


    ¡°No doubt. Wait a second. I¡¯ve got something to give you,¡± Rust replied, then dashed to her desk.


    Byrony nodded at the logistics officer, and adjusted his cloak while he waited. He was wearing standard desert issue, cloak, riding pants, boots supposedly protective against biting things, gloves, but he found the garments oddly awkward to wear. Rust quickly returned with a small sheaf of papers. She still had that harried look about her; he suspected she¡¯d been up for hours getting everything read for the trip ahead.


    ¡°Here¡¯s the list of the gear we packed for you. You might want to take a look at it. And of course, they¡¯ll expect you to return everything you don¡¯t use, and maybe an explanation for what you did use, and why.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s normal.¡± He glanced at the inventory list, items some of which he didn¡¯t even recognize, and their cost. ¡°You think we need all this stuff? I suspect this is going to be pretty cut and dry.¡±


    ¡°Well, the last page is the gear you requested, and I bet you¡¯re most likely to use. It¡¯ll be in the wagon with Lero Bluestone, and we both know he knows how to use it all. The middle page is the emergency gear I want to take, just in case. It¡¯ll be in its own wagon, with one of the junior investigators driving it.¡± Rust held her hand up, trying to keep Byrony from saying anything. ¡°It¡¯s rough country out there and you won¡¯t be able to get out of trouble by slipping into no space. Humor me on this one.¡±


    ¡°All right, all right,¡± he said, nodding. ¡°I give in on that one. You convinced me last night. If you get tired of working for the DIC, you could go into business writing horror stories just spinning tales like that. You had me convinced that if I didn¡¯t haul all this stuff, I¡¯d end up being speared by a Lillu, dying of dehydration and getting eaten by a lion scorpion.¡±


    Rust smiled ever so slightly at his description.


    ¡°I admit it feels odd not being able to go to no space ¨C even here, where we can still use it some, it feels like there¡¯s a block around my head. And you know what the DIC manual says. Always have a backup plan.¡±


    Rust nodded, smiled a small flash of a smile, and her ruff colored slightly with relief. He had put up some serious resistance when she started telling him about it. ¡°Exactly. Now the first page of the list is the items the home office insisted that I send with you. Sorry to burden you with an extra wagon of junk, but feel free to ignore it, as far as I¡¯m concerned. I don¡¯t know how well they¡¯ll work in a zone deep in the Gray Lands, even, which is probably why they told me to send it out. You saw the trouble we were having yesterday. That might be true even for some of the things you requested. Some magic works there fine; some gets totally blocked, and we don¡¯t understand why. Not really. Rumor says it¡¯s because of some leftover from the Sundering, but there might be something else causing it. We just don¡¯t know. And home office wants to know what they can rely on.¡±


    Byrony nodded. ¡°Probably won¡¯t find out the cause of things this time, either. We¡¯re going into the no-space doesn¡¯t work zone, but we¡¯ll be far from the heart of the zone. Don¡¯t know if any of our people have ever made it that far in.¡±


    Rust nodded. ¡°No record of it anyway. One other thing. The Jinn man, Hazin. He wants to go with you. He¡¯s very anxious to catch up with his team.¡±


    ¡°Does he now?¡± Byrony lifted his scarf enough to scratch the end of his snout. ¡°Scarf or sand. Both of¡¯em are going to drive my nose crazy.¡±


    ¡°Do you have a problem with him leaving?¡± Rust asked.


    ¡°Not really. I talked with him over an hour last night. He¡¯s a soft spoken person with few words. It was had hard to get much from him beyond the names of the dead miners, and the fact that they were dead, and Xhindi, his leader sent him back because he smelled Blazendraught, and instead of the ten days it took their party to make it to make from Runi Blahan to Xendo¡¯s Freehold, he crossed the desert in six and a half days.¡± Byrony shook his head. ¡°Kept telling me that the DIC ought to give him a reward for doing it so quickly.¡±


    ¡°You think he¡¯s telling you everything?¡± Rust asked.


    Byrony shrugged, and held up an arm where he wore a bracelet with several touchstones on it. ¡°I had him under a truth field, but who knows how well that works out here? Nobody¡¯s really studied touchstone magic out here either.¡± He stuffed the papers into a bag hanging from his waist.


    ¡°Give him this,¡± Rust said, pulling a small pouch out of her pocked.


    ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± Byrony asked.


    ¡°Miscellaneous expenses. We¡¯re budgeted for small rewards.¡± Rust gave him an enigmatic smile. ¡°It¡¯s the big things that kill us.¡±


    Byrony took it and nodded.


    ¡°Good investigations, Investigator,¡± Rust said. ¡°Get back in one piece so we can get out of this Lifegiver forsaken place.¡±


    And with that, she headed back into her office.


    It did not take him long to get to the assembly area after that, where he was introduced to the local guides who would double as guards, two jinn men named Urqat and Zhars, and a Peri who wore shapeless, loose clothes that still let her wings out and were designed to wear riding; but most noteworthy was she went fully veiled. Peri were almost notorious for their beauty. When doing work like this, they often hid their faces, to keep their looks from being an interference. Her name was Skyblue, and she would ride at the head of the little caravan, while the jinn would ride at the flanks, scouting for trouble.


    Byrony looked at the four DIC guards. Like him they wore the standard desert issue, and carried bows and swords, but he knew from experience that these people were more trained in policing work than in fighting monsters like Lillu, but they might keep people from stealing from the wagons. He nodded at them, and they took their place on the sides of the wagons.


    Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    ¡°What are these animals?¡± he asked, walking up to the first wagon. The animals harnessed to it, just two, were big and red and horned, with a long forelock of hair that dangled over their eyes. They stank, a bitter, nasty odor.


    ¡°Eshtan oxen,¡± the Peri woman said. ¡°Very strong. Eat anything, except people. Don¡¯t need to drink often. Alas, not as fast as Syenah Griffins, but they can pull massive weight.¡± Her voice was light and musical, almost birdlike. ¡°They don¡¯t spook easy. Will kill Lillu.¡± She patted the one on the right, and it tossed its head in a playful way at her touch.


    A man wrapped in even more layers of think cotton cloth sat on the wagon, along with one of the local hires. He was not Dragonkin, but sported the bright blue eyes of the Daoine.


    ¡°Good morning, Inspector,¡± he said.


    Byrony nodded. ¡°Ready to get to work?¡±


    ¡°Soon as we can. I think I have all the equipment I need to set up an analysis workbench. The sooner, the better. I don¡¯t do well in this much sun.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t think most of us do. The sooner done, the sooner home.¡±


    After a quick look at the rest of the caravan, Byrony let the Peri woman lead him to his mount, and with a signal, the group moved out.


    <hr>


    The shopfront beckoned on a side street of Comrie, only a couple of blocks from the Dragon Web office. It was a small storefront, with a display of toys and tools and curiosities in the front window to tease the passer-by with the wonders within, and the sign overhead had a picture of a gnome, and the text in bold red lettering: Spinnik¡¯s Curios and Curiosities.


    Two women, a tall Daoine lady in a practical green travel dress and cloak against the chill of the day, and a shorter, bauchan looking woman wearing a plain gray work dress, and a well-made coat. Persons passing them by might have, at first glance, assumed they were highborn lady and her servant. But they would be wrong. The way they walked and chattered would tell at second glance that these two were friends, and the bright blue eyes of the shorter woman would make it clear that there was something else going on.


    ¡°I had forgotten what a nice town Comrie is,¡± Elaine Allyns said. ¡°And now with you leaving, I won¡¯t have any excuse to come visit.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll give you an excuse,¡± Gan Thistleberry said. ¡°I¡¯m glad you checked your bags in already, Elaine. That gives me one of the best reasons I know to come to Comrie. I didn¡¯t want you to go home without stopping at this shop. Master Spinnik¡¯s is reason enough to come here from time to time. You¡¯ll never know what you¡¯ll find here. He always has some of the loveliest treasures.¡± She sighed. ¡°I bought so many little things I used in class here. I hope Melusine remembers to check here from time to time.¡±


    Gan pushed through the door of the shop, and bells jingled as she walked through the entry, with Elaine quickly behind her. As Elaine entered and looked at the walls filled almost to the ceiling with brightly colored boxes, toys, kitchen items, books, knickknacks, bangles, and curiosities, a bright smile broke across her face.


    ¡°Oh what a darling little shop! How come I never knew about it before?¡± she said. ¡°I love shops like this! Have you been hiding this from me, Gan?¡±


    ¡°Well, it opened after we finished our schooling here,¡± Gan replied. ¡°Otherwise we¡¯d have spent all our pocket money here when we were in school. I swear I didn¡¯t hide it from you, though. The subject just never came up.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know where to start looking,¡± Elaine said.


    Two other women were leaning on a counter where there was an assortment of jewerly and hair ornaments on display and in a case. One of them looked at the two newcomers. ¡°It is just that kind of place!¡± she said, grinning.


    Gan gravitated to a shelf where a number of old books, their bindings showing age but sound and hale still, were sitting. She pulled one off the shelf. ¡°And, Elaine, you can¡¯t really blame me, since you have so seldom come back to Comrie. What is it, twice in the last fifteen years? And both times in a mad rush? I never had a chance to show it to you before.¡± She opened the book, and thumbed through the pages, then sighed. ¡°It¡¯s almost what I want.¡± Carefully she replaced it on the shelf. ¡°But it¡¯s just a rehash of Master Kopkin¡¯s work. Some day, maybe.¡±


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you start here?¡± Gan suggested. She pointed to shelves filled with dolls, toy soldiers, play things of all shapes and sizes. ¡°Maybe you could find something for Tam? I suspect he¡¯d like that.¡±


    ¡°You might be right,¡± Elaine said, moving to the crowded shelves. ¡°He¡¯s going to be pouty that I left him in Nannie¡¯s care so long.¡±


    The shopkeeper, a stalwart old gnome who wore the traditional red cap of his people, stepped out of the back and walked behind the counter, with a box to show the jewelry shoppers. and gave the two women a wave and a warm smile. ¡°Ah, Mistress Thistleberry, lovely to see you today! I¡¯ll be with you when I¡¯m through helping these lovely ladies.¡±


    ¡°So you come here often enough that he knows you by name?¡± Elaine asked, as she looked at a toy periscope. ¡°No, that would just get Tam into trouble with Nannie, looking around corners,¡± she said, putting it back down.


    ¡°You¡¯re probably right about that. How about some toy monsters?¡± Gan pointed to some wooden figurines of Trolls, giants and other Shadowland undesirables.


    ¡°He does like them. But he has so many!¡±


    ¡°Maybe some heroes?¡± Gan suggested. She picked up a figure of a Daoine knight in full armor.


    ¡°Same thing. I guess I¡¯ll just keep looking,¡± Elaine said, and walked further down the toy section.


    Spinnik finished helping the women buying jewelry then hurried over to Gan.


    ¡° Can I help you find anything today? Trinkets for your little ones? And who is this lovely lass you brought into my little place to brighten my day?¡±


    ¡°Ah, Master Spinnik, this my old friend Elaine Allyns. She came up from Allynswood just to spend some time with me for a few days,¡± Gan said. ¡°Alas, I¡¯m not going to be buying trinkets for them any more.¡±


    Spinnik looked shocked. ¡°Did...did something happen? Were they of the wrong quality?¡±


    Gan shook her head. ¡°No, they were excellent as always, and the children that won them loved them. No, I¡¯m going to be moving to the Allynswood estate in the near future. I told my replacement about this place. I hope she¡¯ll be coming here, too.¡±


    He sighed. ¡°You¡¯ve been such a good customer. When you get settled down, let me know how to get in touch. Sometimes, I put out a catalog. Allynswood.¡± the gnome asked, scratching his head. ¡°Where might that be? I¡¯ve not heard of that place, myself.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s south of Waterford by Glint,¡± Elaine said, somewhat amused. She might be Daoine nobility and owner of a huge estate, kinswoman to the Bear himself, but An Lar was big enough that people who were not of the court hadn¡¯t heard of many of the great families.


    ¡°Ah,¡± he said, nodding. ¡°That I¡¯ve heard of. I¡¯ve a cousin who lives down that way. Don¡¯t get to see her very often. Running this shop, well, it takes up most of my time.¡±


    ¡°That I can believe,¡± Elaine said, nodding. She continued looking at the selection of toys. ¡°I wonder if Tam would like one of these,¡± as she looked at a toy sword. ¡°He¡¯s getting to the age that his old toys are too young for him, but he still likes to play. It¡¯s hard to know what he¡¯d find fun at his age.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a fine bit of gear for a young lad,¡± Spinnick said. ¡°Guaranteed not to cut anything, but the touchstone buttons on the haft can be set to make it be a lightweight, flexible sword suitable for bashing brothers to all the way to where it has the weight and feel of a real steel blade of the same size. Makes it a useful thing, less a toy than a practice blade for a young man beginning to train in arms practice if that¡¯s where he¡¯s at.¡±


    Gan left the two to discuss appropriate toys for young Tam and moved deeper towards the back of the shop where there was a whole array of books, kitchen gear and other things a practical minded person like her found interesting. She found some herbs she was wanting, some wind chimes and light catchers, made of glass and beads and metal, all highly reflective, to dangle from the eves of her house and trees. ¡°Something that might amuse pixies,¡± she said.


    Further down, a book caught her eye. ¡°Now this looks interesting.¡±


    It was sitting on a shelf of salt shakers, herb grinders, and other small appliances, stuck between two cookbooks. ¡°Tarry Gebrin: The Guide to Pixies and Other Small Beings¡± the spine declared. After thumbing through it, she added it to her pile.


    But just as she was about to turn to the front of the store and take her finds to Master Spinnik¡¯s counter, she saw it.


    It was laying on the top of some tin cake pans, next to a jar filled with cooking spoons and spatulas, sitting there like an afterthought, unappreciated, but to her discerning eye, she knew better. It deserved to be displayed far more prominently.


    She picked it up, ran her fingers down the round wooden shaft. She spun it, and it twirled perfectly. Putting her other selections down, she held it in both hands. It was the perfect width.


    ¡°Where have you been all my life?¡± she asked. ¡°I¡¯ve dreamed of you. I¡¯ve yearned for you. You¡¯re definitely coming home with me.¡±


    ¡°Oh Gan,¡± Elaine said, coming to find her friend. ¡°This store has the best toys. I even found something for Arriane, although she¡¯ll claim she¡¯s too old ¨C what are you doing with that rolling pin?¡±


    Gan smiled at her friend. ¡°This isn¡¯t just a rolling pin, Elaine. It is a master work, the prize at the deepest depths of a dungeon, the golden apple of rolling pins. It is a flying carpet for pie crusts, a magic fountain for the best cookies, a tool to make the average spectacular.¡±


    Elaine laughed. ¡°I think you must like it. I knew you liked to bake, but if it¡¯s so wonderful, you must buy it! Treasures are treasures.¡±


    Gan nodded. ¡°I¡¯ve been looking for one just like this for years, now, ever since some scoundrel at the school ran off with my old best rolling pin. This is a good omen, Elaine. I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll have all the time I want to bake once I move. One day soon, I¡¯ll make you one of my peach pies. They¡¯re almost famous here in Comrie. Then you¡¯ll see!¡±


    Laughing together, the two women went off to pay for their finds.


    Shortly after, Gan walked Elaine to the Dragon Web station.


    ¡°It¡¯s been wonderful having you here for a few days,¡± Gan said. ¡°Makes me remember all those days we drove the teachers crazy when we were in school.¡±


    ¡°Pretty soon, we¡¯ll be able to make up for all the time we missed. Being together is so much better than letter writing,¡± Elaine said.


    ¡°Maybe you¡¯ll have heard from Gweir by the time I get settled in, and then you can tell him the news. I¡¯m kind of curious what he¡¯ll say.¡±


    ¡°Maybe...but from the way he talked, I think it¡¯ll be a little while yet. I hate when he goes on these training missions and they won¡¯t let us talk to each other.¡± Elaine sighed, but then brightened up. ¡°But I¡¯ll be sure to let Tam know you¡¯ll be coming soon. He was pretty impressed with you when you were at my place. Let¡¯s hope he stays impressed when you start giving him lessons!¡±


    Gan chuckled, but then gave her friend a hug. ¡°Thank you so much!¡±


    ¡°Oh, silly goose. Thank you for coming to me first! I¡¯m so looking forward to having you to myself again.¡±


    The clock tower chimed the hour.


    ¡°O dear, I have to run, or I¡¯ll miss my carriage! Later!¡± With a final wave, she dashed off into the Dragon Web office.


    Gan took a deep breath. ¡°Well, I guess it¡¯s time to get serious about packing,¡± she said, and headed home.

 Day 5 of the Brightening Month (Continued)

    Chapter 13


    Unlike any other people of An Lar, the Jinn and Peri of the lands around the Gray Lands have a different explanation of how they as people came into existence. After the world was made, and all the other races came into being, the Lifegiver called one of her servants to her, a beautiful being who¡¯s hair was a burning flame and her body floated on the air like a cloud of whitest smoke.


    ¡°Oh Daughter of mine, Child of Smoke and Fire, I have a great treasure to give you. Used wisely, it will save the world; used wrongly and it will destroy all.¡±


    ¡°Oh Mother of all, how am I to deal with this treasure?¡±


    ¡°Give it a home where none can see it. Wrap it in magic so none may sense it. Create a cloud of beings to keep watch over it.¡±


    The Lady of Smoke and Fire searched all of An Lar, and finally came to the great desert called by some the Gray Lands, looking for the perfect place. Here, where there was a hollow surrounded by mountains, a land unloved by Daoine and Darion, Dwarf or Dragonkin, she found her home. Using the might of the magic the Lifegiver gave her, she created a special place in the middle of the lands, and wrapped it in her magic, so none might sense the treasure. A five pointed star she drew around it. At the very center of the star, she lit a great fire. The fire burned for nine days and nine nights. On the ninth night, great sparks flew up into the skies. These she took and turned into the Peris, with a beauty most others never came close to. Large flames danced among the smoke of bonfire. From these the Jinn were born.


    Giving them their instructions, she turned into a fiery wraith of smoke, wrapped herself around the treasure, and plunged it into the bonfire, at the center of the star, there to hold the treasure close until the Lifegiver calls for her to give it back.


    And to this day, none of her children will tell where the Mother of Smoke and Fire rests, but they all go from time to time to make pilgrimage to honor her and tell of how they fulfilled her request.


    Tales of Beginning ¨C Maire Windwood of the Alder Branches


    Ever since they had reached Xendo¡¯s freehold, one thing or the other had gone wrong for Xhindi.


    First, of course, was finding Piter and Rashan dead. Piter¡¯s death was particularly nasty, but Rashan hadn¡¯t been much better, but at least his body, down at the mine mouth, had been burned and was nothing like the bloody mess he had found in their cabin. Sending Hazin off almost as soon as they found Rashan had seemed the sensible thing to do, with a deep binding on him not to mention Violetta Greenleaf, but now, as they trekked through the wilds of the Gray Lands, part of him wished he had thought of another plan.


    But that wasn¡¯t the end of the bad luck. Next, because of all the damage to the mining site from the first attack, followed by what scavenging Piter and his friends could do, it took them three days to uncover the site that had the hidden box Violetta had come for. The marker she was supposed to find was hidden under a huge pile of rubble and debris from the explosions that took place when the mine was attacked, loosening a tailing pile right on top of it, and it took time to dig it clear enough to reach.


    When Violetta released the ward on the vault, it sent up a column of magic energy that could be sensed for miles, and soon as she pulled the box out of the vault, three spy ravens began to circle around the sky above them. He guessed whoever came after Piter had left them behind, waiting for a signal like the vault. Grabbing Violetta and her precious package, they jumped on their griffins and made a mad dash deeper into the desert. Ashira was sure she took out two of the birds with her bow, but not so sure about the third one. Finding a rock shelter that would hide them from aerial view, he cast a ward to hide their presence, while keeping a lookout for their unwelcome follower, and somehow, he convinced his woman patron not to open the box until they got to the safety of Aufzee¡¯s Freehold. At least she agreed to that.


    They headed out following a roundabout way through some rough and broken countryside, full of black rock canyons and mounds of broken red stone. It was well away from the main trade road that would take them to their destination, but far enough back they didn¡¯t have to worry nearly as much about whoever set up Piter and left the spy ravens. Only the people experienced with the local landscape could pick this way out over the unforgiving landscape. With their troupe making relatively good time, Xhindi was about to decide they would make it before running out of supplies when the last bit of bad luck hit.


    It didn¡¯t feel like a night of bad omen. Ashira had managed to catch an antelope while on patrol, and as Ruath and he prepared to roast their dinner meat Violetta, sitting near the campfire, had pulled off her boots to pour out a piece of gravel she had picked up. Ruath tossed some wood on the fire not far from where she sat.


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    Suddenly, she gave a sharp cry, brief but loud. ¡°What was that?¡±


    Ruath seeing a movement, hammered a piece of wood he was holding down on the source of movement. ¡°Damn it.¡±


    Xhindi looked up from where he was working, skewering meat onto sticks to cook for their meal.


    ¡°Did it bite you?¡± Ruath asked.


    ¡°It felt...hot. And sharp.¡± Violetta pulled up her pants leg. Not far above her ankle was a small wound. Two small punctures. It was already swelling. ¡°What...what was it? It feels like fire.¡±


    Xhindi bounded over and looked at the remnants of what Ruath had smashed. ¡°Is that¡­¡±


    ¡°Looks like it,¡± Ruath replied, wiping the stick off and throwing it into the fire. Must have been hiding in the firewood.¡±


    Xhindi took a potion out of his belt patch, and handed it to Violetta. ¡°Drink this. You¡¯ve been bitten by a blood fire spider, and you are going to be very sick for a while. This will help.¡±


    ¡°Blood fire?¡± she asked. A look of worry, not yet fear crossed over her face.


    ¡°You¡¯ll know why it¡¯s called that too soon. I am sorry.¡±


    Quickly, he slit her pants leg and made a tourniquet to slow down the flow of venom.


    After the potion he gave her took effect and put her to sleep, he walked into the night. The people gathered around the ailing woman were not shocked at all by the sounds of destruction and yelling they heard. He came back at dawn, and headed them all out.


    And now he was here, after traveling a day and a night to a place he had never expecting to bring Violetta. He held her before him in his saddle as they rode, her semi-conscious from the venom and the potions he had been feeding her to keep her from shrieking from the pain. They did very little to slow the progress of the toxin.


    ¡°Will the bad luck continue?¡± he muttered.


    Ashira gave him a look. ¡°Is it bad luck, or is it that the plans you made are not in line with the plan of the Lifegiver, and she has something else in mind?¡±


    ¡°Away with you, woman. Just hope my sister will bend the rules enough to let us in.¡±


    Xhindi found the entrance to the place he was searching for. It was reached by a narrow cleft in the rock, wide enough for an ox wagon, but not two side by side.


    ¡°The sacred precinct of Almyra, the fifth ray of the holy star,¡± Ruath murmured as they passed through. ¡°May the Lifegiver and the Mother of Smoke and Fire bless our passage here, and the Called welcome us into the secrets hidden here.¡±


    It was a ritual recital. ¡°So let it be,¡± Ashira responded.


    Almost as if in answer, they heard the dripping of water. As they rode down the path, and the cleft widened into a narrow canyon, they passed a cache of water, precious in this desert land, gathered in the shadows where the sun could not shine directly.


    ¡°Imagine if the Freeholders saw this water,¡± Ashira said. ¡°How quickly would they drain it out for their mines and their stupid wetland ways?¡±


    ¡°Just another reason to keep the outsiders away,¡± Ruath replied. ¡°And if they saw it, they¡¯d try to mine the holy mountain. And then where would we be?¡±


    ¡°Guarding the mountain is our most sacred duty,¡± Ashira said. She looked hard at Xhindi, who chose to ignore it.


    ¡°I did not expect to come here on this journey,¡± he said. ¡°It was not in the plan.¡±


    Ashira spit. ¡°You and your plan.¡±


    ¡°It was the Called and the Elders who planned it, too,¡± Xhindi said.


    Violetta Greenleaf, drifting in and out of consciousness, groaned as she shifted her leg where it was resting on the griffin¡¯s side. ¡°Hang on a little bit more, woman,¡± he whispered into her ear. ¡°We¡¯re almost where we can get you some healing.¡±


    Ruath pulled up beside him. ¡°I¡¯ll go ahead to let the Called know we¡¯re coming,¡± he said, and hurried past the oasis and into the shadows beyond.


    ¡°Oh, I suspect she already knows,¡± Xhindi said, watching Ruath hurry down the road. ¡°It¡¯s not just our foes who have spies in the landscape.¡±


    ¡°Are you really sure of this?¡± Ashira said. She pulled her veil down, revealing her almost angelic face, and flicked her wings nervously. ¡°I know they had a plan for her, but bringing her here ¨C will that not upset what her role was to be?¡±


    ¡°At this point, if we do not get her help, she will have no role at all. Daoine don¡¯t usually survive the bite of the blood fire spider without help. And who best to help her near at hand? She¡¯d be dead before we could get to Aufzee¡¯s Freehold. What else could we do? And still there¡¯s no guarantee she¡¯ll make it.¡±


    Beyond the depths of the pool of water, the road only went a little further. The canyon dead-ended into a sheer wall of rock, and beyond that, the sacred mountain rose, higher than one could view from Xhindi¡¯s position. Carved into the rockface itself, glistening in the light in black streaked with red, was an ornate doorway, decorated with engravings of tongues of flame reaching up to cloud. The doors themselves were of heavy wood bound with iron and brass. The dirt road they had been followed gave way to a path paved with fine flagstone. Unlike most places they had seen since leaving the town of Runi Blaln, there was a green space, an intentional garden with herbs and other plants growing lining the sides of the flagstones, and insects drifted among them. Nearer the gate, one on either side of it was an unusual feature for this landscape, two large trees proving shade and some protection for growing things. Ruath¡¯s griffin sat under the shade of the tree to the right.


    Xhindi and Ashira drew up to the tree to the left. As Ashira helped support Violetta, the jinn man dismounted and lifted the wounded woman into his arms.


    Violetta opened her eyes. ¡°Where?¡±


    ¡°Somewhere safe,¡± Xhindi replied. ¡°Close your eyes again. It¡¯ll be better.¡±


    As he walked down the flagstones, the great door in the wall opened, and a woman wrapped in blue gauze fabric, veiling even her face, stepped out, followed by Ruath and three others.


    ¡°Brother, you do not break the discipline lightly,¡± the woman in blue said.


    He gave her a curt nod. ¡°You know me, Sister.¡±


    ¡°So¡­¡± the woman said.


    ¡°You sent me on this mission,¡± he replied. He looked down at the woman he was cradling, how the effects of the poisoning was marking her face, affecting her breathing. ¡°But thanks to a Blood fire spider, the mission is on the edge of failing. I had nowhere else to turn.¡±


    The woman unveiled her face, gave him a gentle look and a tiny smile. ¡°The Lifegiver will decide if you chose rightly. Bring her inside.¡±

 Day 19 of Brightening Month

    Chapter 14


    The more confusing the initial evidence looks, the more you can be sure someone¡¯s involved who¡¯s trying to hide something. Keep digging.


    Investigator¡¯s Manual   - DIC


    Gweir stood in front of the office door. He was tired, sweaty, and would have preferred to have a shower and change into a clean uniform before reporting to Havron, but the order was to come immediately. He straightened his hat, smoothed his field uniform, then knocked on the door.


    The rough voice of Havron answered. ¡°Enter.¡±


    Gweir walked into the office. It was a spare place, that reminded him somewhat of the Birch¡¯s office, a big desk, with piles of papers, a shelf lined with a few books, a chest, a few chairs. Standing at attention, he saluted the officer sitting at the desk. Savon was older, sunbaked and silver haired, cut neatly short. His uniform was basically the same type that Gweir was wearing, a field uniform, neither crisp nor stained, but worn by a man who felt most at home in its utilitarian feel. He was reading a document, and did not look up as Gweir stood there.


    ¡°You sent for me, Commander Havron?¡±


    Dropping his papers, Havron looked up and nodded. ¡°Have a seat, Leader Blackthorn. I want to discuss what we¡¯re doing here, what you¡¯re doing here.¡±


    Gweir nodded, and sat down in the offered chair.


    ¡°The last two weeks, I¡¯ve been putting you and your men through their paces,¡± Havron said. His face was calm as he explained. ¡°It¡¯s all been standard training ¨C running, exercises, fighting technique, group work, a little stealth, a little ambush work. I¡¯m sure your men have been going through the same type of training since they first joined the military.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the same type of exercises I have been doing with them,¡± Gweir said, nodding. ¡°I hope my soldiers have met your satisfaction, sir.¡±


    Havron leaned back a bit in his chair. ¡°Yes, they have. Well trained, work together well as a group or smaller unit, have some skills in the stealth and ambush areas. The Hawk himself would be proud of how well you and yours are doing. Yours are the type of troops his training programs, and those of the Redsticks, too, try to produce.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, sir.¡± Gweir said. Although he kept his face smooth, inwardly he was quite pleased.


    ¡°Still, even the best of the Hawk¡¯s troops are not necessarily what the Birch is looking for in his units.¡± Havron rested his elbows on his desk and steepled his fingers together, watching Gweir closely.


    ¡°Sir?¡± Gweir sat up straighter, a bit uncertain where Havron was going with this.


    ¡°You studied at the White Circle, am I not correct?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Sir.¡±


    ¡°The Oldest¡¯s method is to teach all students how to reach in and access their innate magic, become friends with the mana fields until they can shape it and use it as a tool or weapon. Am I not right?¡±


    Gweir nodded. ¡°It¡¯s hard training. A lot of us didn¡¯t have what it took to master the discipline or the talent to use it at the level the Magic Guard or the White Circle demand. But to use tools like touchstones, we were taught to do the work they were looking to do would, well, fry our minds.¡±


    ¡°And when you went for training with the Redsticks, how did they deal with magical combat?¡±


    ¡°Heh,¡± Gweir said. ¡°They gave us some brief classes about enhancing our own weapons, aim accuracy for arrows, strengthening the durability of our blades, and some tricks about sharpening things and doing temporary patches of our equipment, but beyond that, it was all physical. Muscle and technique and skills in the field for stealth, the best way to handle a sword, and so on. If we needed magical attack or defense, we were to rely on the Magic Guard.¡±


    Hevron nodded. ¡°As it should be for most soldiers. Believe it or not, that saves more people in a fight than letting a bunch of hotheads shoot magic bolts left and right. Back in the early days, during the Sundering wars and shortly afterwards, we learned all that the hard way.¡±


    He opened a drawer in his desk. ¡°But the Birch¡¯s people, we aren¡¯t regular soldiers in the field fighting regular battles with bows and swords backed up by the Magic Guard. We go out in the field doing special operations. It might be intelligence gathering. It might be to set a trap for someone in the Shadowlands who¡¯s trying to stir up trouble. It might be interdicting a smuggler who¡¯s carrying secrets from Ynys Afel. And we do it like we too are shadows. It is important that our missions stay in the background, serving both the needs of the White Island and Ynys Afel. We keep the peace...well peaceful.¡±


    ¡°But why me and my men, sir?¡± Gweir asked. ¡°You yourself said what my people are is a unit that is highly trained in the normal way of fighting.¡±


    ¡°Things are getting dicey, Blackthorn. Something we haven¡¯t put our finger on is going down in the Shadowlands and someone, possibly connected with the Dragonkin, but maybe not, is aiding them from the Sunlit Lands. I wanted someone who understands the best of the military, who understands cohesion and discipline and how to get things done to learn how we do things. You¡¯re not the first unit to be pulled in this way. This is how we get most of our operatives.¡±


    ¡°I see, sir,¡± Gweir said, although his eyes reflected uncertainty.


    ¡°Our next few weeks will be your men the Birch¡¯s techniques.¡± He pulled out a device from his drawer, and laid it on the table. ¡°One of the first is mastering this.¡±


    The thing he laid on the table looked like a leather wrist guard. It was a simple affair that closed with buckles. But on the top of the wrist guard was a double row of some sort of gems.


    ¡°You may have seen my guards wearing these,¡± Havron said.


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    ¡°Are those...touchstones?¡± Gweir asked. He reached over to pick it up, then stopped short, pulling his hand back.


    ¡°It¡¯s safe for you to touch, Blackthorn. It¡¯s not been keyed to you, so it won¡¯t activate by accident.¡±


    Gweir picked up the device and ran his hands over it. It lay limp in his touch. Even when he ran his fingers over the buttons, nothing happened.


    ¡°Yes, those are touchstones. A special type of touchstone that can only be keyed to one person at a time. It¡¯s a highly guarded secret from those outside of the Birch¡¯s operatives. Each button will help you manifest a set group of magics, of the type mostly only the Magic Guard can do. The effect isn¡¯t as large, nor the duration, but it allows our people to do things almost unheard of in the field.¡±


    ¡°And it doesn¡¯t destroy the user?¡±


    ¡°We have learned a special method to stop that from happening. It¡¯s not an easy method, but with good discipline you¡¯ll be able to use this wrist guard all day long.¡± He put the wrist guard back in the drawer of his desk. ¡°Tell your men to get a good night¡¯s sleep. Our real training begins tomorrow. And what they¡¯re about to face will make running laps around the practice field seem easy in comparison.¡±


    <hr>


    Byrony sat in a borrowed office at the local DIC in Harani City. It was clean and neat, and in many ways, sterile. There was the official DIC poster hung behind his chair, evidently meant to influence the person sitting in the visitor¡¯s chair. There was a bookshelf on one wall that held the DIC manual and supplements, and a few Daoine legal books.


    The desk he sat behind was broad and meant to intimidate, made of finely polished wood, as was his hair, massive, covered in leather, with substantial armrests. In front of the desk was a simple wooden chair. The light in the room was very bright, not sunlight, but more than the usual light of Dragonfire lamps. It pooled most intensely over the interviewee chair. At his left hand was a stack of papers; to his right was a single cup holding water. He had a pen at hand.


    ¡°Well, they know how to have interrogations here, I see,¡± he said, tapping the end of the pen against the wood. ¡°Now let me see if I can learn anything of this mess of an investigation.


    It was true Byrony felt rather frustrated by the whole situation. First there was the circus back at Xendo¡¯s Freehold. He was sent out with every bit of forensic equipment that someone at the top of logistics could think of. They were under orders to try every piece, every rig. More than half didn¡¯t work because of the wonky way magic behaved there. The remaining tools...well, with magic fields acting as strange as they did in the Gray Lands, he didn¡¯t know how far he could trust them.


    What he found when he got there was everything that he expected. The man in the dwelling place had been dosed with enough blazendraught to cause a nasty, painful death. The room he was in had been ransacked, perhaps to make it look like a theft. Or maybe it was. But not even a rogue Dragonkin would use Blazendraught to cover up a theft. There was a hefty penalty for doing that ¨C restriction to the drug, which leads to madness.


    ¡°Was it a revenge killing?¡± he muttered.


    When he used his forensic recreate magic, he saw the unfortunate man sitting in a chair, tied up. Someone, with dragonkin hands forced a potion down his throat, not just one time, but three. He was slapped around a few times as he was being questioned. Not for the first time, he wished the magic gave him sound as well as limited sight. The few glimpses he had of the dragonkin, he saw a hooded and veiled person, and as the spasms that signaled the collapse of the victim, the dragonkin removed the bonds and evidently began ransacking, mostly just throwing things around.


    The other victim was simpler. He was ambushed evidently by the same dragonkin, no questions asked. Right before the magic faded out, though, the investigator caught the glimpse of another dragonkin, His outfit was emblazed with the logo of a dragonkin company. It wasn¡¯t one Byrony recognized.


    To make things more interesting, there were the corpses of two spybirds, not dead as long as the miners. So someone was surveilling the area as well. And, from the looks of things, someone had recently dug something out of the ground, not long before the team arrived. There was an area of moved stone, with dirt still clinging to where they had been turned upside down.


    The questions were who, and what and why. Did the jinn outfit have anything to do with it? Once again, Byrony wished he had been able to hold onto the one jinn they had, but soon as they arrived at Xendo¡¯s Freehold, he took off like a nightmare was chasing him.


    ¡°What a puzzle,¡± he said, running a hand over his eyes.


    So he was here in Harani, chasing down loose threads. Like the one he was about to interview.


    He took a sip of water. There was a soft knock on his door.


    ¡°Enter,¡± he said.


    A young female dragonkin walked in. From the condition of her ruff, a ruby dark red, she seemed to be rather nervous, although the dark red set off her lighter red scales in an attractive contrast. She looked at Byrony in quick, fast glances, the gray of her eyes unwilling to meet his darker eyes for very long.


    ¡°Young and inexperienced?¡± he muttered, ¡°Or is she afraid of something else?¡±


    ¡°Excuse me, sir?¡± she asked as she stood there.


    ¡°Oh, nothing,¡± he replied. ¡°I must have been thinking out loud. Have a seat,¡± he said, waving to the chair.


    She settled down into the offered chair, smoothing out the pale green of her loose flowing dress.


    ¡°Master Drumlin, my supervisor sent me here,¡± the young woman said. ¡°He apologizes for not coming himself.¡± She looked down at her hands and intertwined her fingers.


    ¡°Ah,¡± Byrony replied nodding. He reached under his desk, and activated the truth telling device he had placed there. ¡°Did something come up?¡±


    She looked up at him, blinked three times. ¡°I...I don¡¯t know. He called me into his office and told me to come here in his place, gave me a file, and told me some things, and sent me on my way.¡± Surprised at what she had said, she covered her mouth with her hands.


    Byrony tilted his head, and tried to give what he hoped would be viewed as an encouraging smile. ¡°Now for the record, tell me your name, the name of your company and your supervisor¡¯s name.¡±


    ¡°Aria Copal. I work as an assistant for Sinter Acquisitions. My supervisor is Zefed Drumlin, chief acquisitions scout.¡±


    ¡°And that means?¡±


    ¡°We look for minerals,¡± she said. ¡°If we find good sources, we assay them, test to see how fruitful it might be to exploit them into full-fledged mining opportunities, and then to bring in one of the trading companies to market them.¡±


    ¡°And how do you find these resources?¡±


    ¡°We use various means. Some of it is our own mining experts. The Gray Mountain area is particularly rich in minerals. Sometimes, we find other mining outfits, and act as intermediaries, supplying them with support, helping them get equipment, and seeing to the marketing of what they produce. We don¡¯t actually own those type of mines; it¡¯s more a limited partnership.¡± She looked up at him. ¡°Why do you ask?¡±


    ¡°And do you sometimes actually buy out a mine?¡± Byrony asked.


    ¡°Occasionally. If the resource is good and the price is right.¡± She reached for the bag she had brought in, and took out a sheaf of papers bound in a bright red cover. ¡°Master Drumlin gave me this report of our current activity to give to you.¡±


    Byrony took it and glanced at it. ¡°I see.¡± Closing the folder, he looked at her sharply. ¡°Do you ever buy up mines in the Gray Lands themselves? I hear various specialized minerals can be found there.¡±


    Her ruff flushed a deeper red. ¡°In...in the Gray Lands? Why would we? Our equipment doesn¡¯t¡¯ work there.¡±


    Byrony gave a curt nod. ¡°That clears some things for me. Thank you for your time, Aria Copal. If I have any more questions, I¡¯ll ask your master Drumlin. Please make it clear to him that if I do, I¡¯ll really need to speak to him. You may go.¡±


    She almost bolted out of the door.


    After the door closed behind her, he tapped his fingers on the desk. ¡°Funny how she reacted when I asked about the Gray Lands. Interesting indeed.¡±


    He looked through the reports on his desk. He picked up one document out of them, a bit blood-splattered and dirtied.


    ¡°Offer to buy: Sinter Acquisitions offers Hallan Piter and Eshin Rashan the sum of 3000 Gold of Ynys Afel for the rights and ownership of the mine called Xendo¡¯s Freehold,¡± he read out loud. ¡°That¡¯s a rather generous offer for a played out mine, even if Black Opals are rather valuable. What are you hiding, Drumlin? And did it have anything to do with those two deaths?¡±

 Day 20 of the Brightening Month

    Chapter 15


    ¡°Be the shepherd of this land,¡± I told Cullin. ¡°Shepherd to tall growing things, all living things within its boundaries.¡±


    ¡°Why me?¡¯ he asked me. He was young, so young, and I was about to lay a heavy burden on him. But his was the gift, the magic inside of him welling out unbidden. It needed a channel, and the land, too, was crying in its need.


    ¡°Because of all my students, you understand the value of life best.¡± His eyes flickered with doubt, but I knew. Yes, I knew. Gently I pressed my hand over his heart and let the magic link him to this special place. ¡°From Ridge to ridge, all along the boundary. Guard them well, every blade of grash, every animal who finds its home there, every fae creature. But especially the trees. Keep the forest a sanctuary.¡± As the magic surged, I could see it swallow him as the sensory load swept over him. He closed his eyes, and once had a spasm, almost like a seizure. Then his body came to rest, and his breathing grew normal. But for a long time, he lay there, unspeaking.


    ¡°What did you do to me?¡± he asked, still slightly dazed by everything.


    ¡°I gave you authority. It is your charge now. You are master of the forest. And with authority comes responsibility. Care for it all.¡±


    He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, then opened them with perfect trust. ¡°Yes.¡±


    Memories of a Long Life  , by Sulis, Oldest of the White Circle


    The day had finally arrived. A crew of five Bauchan men drove up to Gan¡¯s house in Comrie, driving her new wagon pulled by Blowie and Cin.


    ¡°Well, Gan,¡± the fey woman said to herself, ¡°it¡¯s happening. I don¡¯t know if I¡¯m excited, scared, happy, sad or all mixed up together.¡±


    She opened the door as the oldest of the Bauchans walked up. He was a big, burley fellow as Bauchans went, dressed in a grey woolen workshirt and a bright red vest.


    ¡°Mistress Thistleberry?¡± he asked. ¡°I¡¯m Tronan Haftstone. Lady Elaine sent us here to pack your wagon.¡±


    Gan nodded. ¡°You can start in the kitchen. I have my cat in the bedroom right now.¡±


    Quicker than she thought, they emptied her house of furnishings. Boxes, barrels, bundles moved out as the men hauled them to the front as they decided how to load her wagon. The load began to stack up as they chattered and cursed, lifing and securing the load.


    ¡°That¡¯s it,¡± said one of the Bauchans, a young man with sandy hair peaking between his red cap and oversized, pointed ears. ¡°Last box.¡±


    Gan nodded, and went inside, her footsteps echoing through the empty building as she walked. ¡°So much of my life was here. And now?¡±


    She gave the floor a final sweeping, ran her hand over the cabinets in the kitchen, looked over the garden beds she could see through the kitchen window.


    Memories flooded her, and a touch of regret, but she shook it off, then headed to the front door, where her cat was waiting for her.


    Prydi, her large grey cat with white paws, mewed, and she picked him up. He was rather nervous about the whole situation, and wiggled in her arms, looking for a safe haven.


    ¡°Look how hard they¡¯re working to get us ready to leave.¡± One of the Bauchans handed a large barrel to another standing in the wagon. He grunted a bit as he moved it to its place. Prydi was not very impressed, and tried to climb up on her shoulder. ¡°Changing times. Maybe you need to go into your basket if it¡¯s too hard for you,¡± she said. He meowed at her, and rubbed his chin under her chin.


    She had just managed that task when she heard a voice behind her.


    ¡°So you thought you could just sneak out of town and be gone, did you?¡±


    Gan stood up to see Melusine standing there in front of her, frowning and sad. Her eyes looked moist.


    ¡°You knew I was leaving today,¡± Gan replied, sighing. ¡°I didn¡¯t hide it. I told you about it.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want you to go, so it was sneaking,¡± the Lake Woman said. ¡°You¡¯re supposed to be here forever. Allynswood is so far away!¡±


    Gan pulled her cloak around her shoulders a little tighter, then grabbed her friend¡¯s hand. ¡°I¡¯m going to miss you, too, Melly. But you know I¡¯m only going to be about half a day away by Dragon Web.¡± Gan gave her friend a gentle smile, and patted her arm. ¡°You probably could get there faster in person than your letters.¡±


    ¡°You, you, you...¡± Melusine stiffled a sob. ¡°I¡¯m so going to miss you. Who else will tell me how dramatic I¡¯m being without telling me I¡¯m being dramatic.¡±


    ¡°How did you get away from the school, anyway?¡± Gan asked. ¡°I heard Grendal laid down the law about that.¡±


    ¡°He did. A whole group of us wanted to come, but Grendal threatened to dock the pay of anybody who left, or worse. I don¡¯t care what he does. I walked through the door. Let him try to run a school without a lower levels administrator.¡±


    ¡°Oh, dear,¡± Gan said, shaking her head. ¡°I hope you won¡¯t get into any trouble.¡±


    Melusine shrugged. ¡°At this point, with what he¡¯s doing to the staff, I won¡¯t care. But to be honest, he¡¯ll probably just call me in to lecture me and then send me back. He can¡¯t afford to lose any more at this point of the school year, and nobody else knows how to run the elementary levels. He¡¯s lost you, one of the advanced magical maths instructors, and the midlevels Grammatarian.¡±


    ¡°Rougan and Priessa left too?¡±


    ¡°Yes, the day after it was announced that you had resigned. It shocked him a little. Their classes are harder to cover than the elementaries.¡±


    ¡°My poor friend. My poor school.¡± Gan just shook her head. ¡°Well, I don¡¯t know what he¡¯ll learn from it, but he hasn¡¯t asked me back, that much I know. And now, it¡¯s too late. I¡¯ve sold the house, and I¡¯m leaving.¡±


    ¡°He was always pigheaded. But this caught him off guard. We¡¯ll see if it makes any difference. But I¡¯m not holding my breath.¡± She gave Gan a bittersweet smile. ¡°Enough of that. Let¡¯s talk about you. Today, you start a new page of your life. We in the Lakelands have always said there is great magic in starting new.¡±


    She took Gan¡¯s hands. ¡°May be magic of this moment open the doors you need to open. May your days find joy. May you always be surrounded by those who care for you.¡± She gave her hands a shake. ¡°And write me soon as you get a chance!¡±


    ¡°Mistress Thistleberry, we have the wagon loaded,¡± Master Tronan said. ¡°It¡¯s all yours now. It¡¯s ready to go whenever you¡¯re ready. Have a good journey.¡±


    Melusine let Gan¡¯s hands go, her tears threatening to come back, and looked over the wagon, tarped over and secure looking.


    ¡°Thanks, Master Tronan. It looks perfect.¡± Gan nodded at the man.


    Blowie turned to look at her, as if to say ¡°let¡¯s go.¡±


    ¡°Here, carry Prydi¡¯s basket for me,¡± Gan said to Melusine, and handed it to her. and picked up another basket. ¡°Time to let this moment¡¯s magic get to work.¡±


    With a little help from her friend, she got into the wagon, got her cat secured, said her final goodbyes, and was off.


    The trip to Goblin Market was rather uneventful. She managed to get her wagon to the freight gate at the Dragon Web station without running over anybody, or being yelled at. That she felt was one more good omen for the whole venture. She waited patiently in line with the teamsters who did freight hauling for a living. They gave her an odd look or two, but said nothing to her personally.


    The freight carriages were nothing like the passenger ones. For one thing, they were much larger, and few shippers sent their wagons through the Dragon Web itself. Instead, teamsters hauled it to the freight door, where loaders unpacked their wagons, made sure everything was properly labeled, attached the required invoices. They were remarkably effective in the stacking and hauling, while someone wearing a badge from the local DIC doublechecked what was being sent. The dragonkin who accepted her paperwork was actually rather amused by the fact that she and her wagon and livestock were all going together. He helped lead her to a berth where it would be safe to wait among the crates and barrels and bags, quite close to a lone horse and its handler. The groom attending the horse tipped his hat at her.


    ¡°You¡¯ll be in Goblin Market soon as we¡¯re through loading,¡± the Dragonkin said.


    ¡°A nonstop?¡± Gan said, surprised. ¡°When I went there last, it took me two jumps.¡±


    ¡°Well Goblin Market may not have a lot of visitors,¡± the Dragonkin, ¡°But it is a market town. All the little villages and towns nearby go shopping there. So we do this nonstop quite often. Have a good trip there!¡±


    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Shortly afterwards, the doors were closed. And shortly after that, they were there. A dour faced young dragonkin opened the door and the first of the freight handlers followed him in.


    ¡°All right, Torbin¡¯s at the head of the line,¡± the dragonkin said. ¡°Three barrels of mixed ceramics, a case of soft goods from Brightwater, three crates from Harani,¡± he said, reading from his list. He methodically checked the invoices for each item before letting it out of the carriage.


    Gan watched him and his team work, clearing out enough area for the horse and groom and her wagon to exit the structure. It was obvious to her discerning eye that the young man was unhappy at his job.


    ¡°Nothing like hating what you have to do, eh Prydi?¡± she said to her cat, still resting in his travel basket. The cat mewed in response. ¡°Reminds me of Grendal, teaching his classes.¡± She snickered, a bittersweet laugh, then sighed. One thing she never hated was teaching her students, and was already missing this year¡¯s students.


    Finally, it was her turn. ¡°May I see your papers, ma¡¯am,¡± the Dragonkin said. ¡°Purpose here?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m moving from Comrie to the Allynswood Estate,¡± she replied. ¡°I¡¯m Gan Thistleberry.¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± the Dragonkin said. ¡°I believe I saw you here talking with Lady Allyns not long ago,¡± he said, looking at her bill of lading.


    ¡°That¡¯s possible,¡± she replied. ¡°And you are?¡±


    He looked up surprised. ¡°Umber Madrona, Mistress Thistleberry.¡±


    ¡°You come from Harani?¡± she asked.


    ¡°You...you can tell?¡± he walked around her wagon, noting the goats tied up behind, and checked something off his list.


    ¡°It¡¯s your voice. I once had a friend from there who spoke the same way.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m surprised you can tell. Most non-Dragonkin people seem to think we¡¯re all the same.¡±


    ¡°Maybe it¡¯s because I used to be a teacher,¡± Gan said, slightly amused at how someone from the DIC would think that other people might not have that same urge to figure things out.


    ¡°Maybe,¡± Umber said. He handed Gan her paperwork back. ¡°Everything looks good. Let me open the front gate. That way you won¡¯t need to turn your team around.¡±


    He walked over, and pressed a lever, and the front of the carriage opened up. ¡°Welcome to Goblin Market,¡± he said.


    Gan gave him a wave and a smile and headed out. She was afraid that Elaine would have one of her men come and meet her at the station, but there was nobody looking for her. This was just the way she wanted it.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go meet some pixies, Blowie. You ready Cin?¡± The goats attached to the back of the wagon bleated. Blowie flicked an ear.


    ¡°Good, good. Let¡¯s go.¡±


    <hr>


    Cullin Mosswood, shepherd of trees, uninformed of the plans of Lady Elaine and Gan had for the farmstead that nestled next to the boundary of his forest, looked down from his perch in the branches of a tall maple tree. It swayed gently as the wind played through its branches and although Cullin usually found this relaxing, today he was on edge.


    ¡°I smell something. I feel something.¡± He closed his eyes. ¡°I hear something.¡±


    A raven on a nearby branch cocked its head to look at him intently. He cawed then hopped a little closer.


    ¡°No snide remarks,¡± the Tree Shepherd said. ¡°I feel what I feel. I sense what I sense. I¡¯m never wrong when something¡¯s up.¡±


    The raven cawed again, and picked at a spot on the branch. ¡°Hmmm. I¡¯m just remembering what it was the last time you said that.¡±


    The Tree Shepherd was not surprised at the raven speaking, not in the least. Instead, he scowled.


    ¡°Lady Elaine was not amused.¡± The raven hopped onto the Tree Shepherd¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Not in the least. Don¡¯t know how you confused her with that trashy nixie Rhodie.¡±


    The tree shepherd shrugged his shoulder and raised his hand to brush the bird away. ¡°Shut up. It was an honest mistake.¡±


    The bird leaped up and settled on a nearby branch. ¡°It¡¯s not like they look anything alike. Lady Elaine has the breeding of the high Daoine, all tall grace. And Rhodie has green hair and blue skin.¡± He cocked his head again. ¡°And using a mud spell, too. You always conjure up such¡­.odorous muck. Her maid Nan told me she didn¡¯t get the stink off her robe for three moons.¡±


    ¡°Shut up, Morvran. She didn¡¯t belong in my forest anyway. She¡¯s got her own place.¡± He crossed his arms and closed his eyes, listening.


    ¡°But the treaty.¡± The crow continued his scolding. ¡°The road belongs to all...¡±


    The Tree Shepherd fished a pebble out of his pocket. ¡°I wasn¡¯t in the road when I threw it. I was in the trees.¡±


    ¡°And that¡¯s why the magistrate comes down from Waterford by Glint once every moon nowadays, ain¡¯t it. You¡¯ve been getting worse since those dwarves came through. Every acorn dropped in the forest is someone trying to hurt your trees.¡±


    Cullin began to toss the pebble up and down. ¡°You saw what they did to the grove near their mine.¡±


    ¡°And they had the high king¡¯s permission, too. And you agreed to it.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know they¡¯d take all of them.¡±


    ¡°They didn¡¯t and you know it,¡± Morvran called. ¡°They took three trees. Ones you agreed to. You chose. You even said the grove was overgrown and needed thinning.¡±


    ¡°Keep it up. I can have crow for supper,¡± Cullin said.


    Morvran flitted a bit further out of reach. He cocked his head. ¡°And I could have peach pie. Still doesn¡¯t change anything.¡± With a final caw, he flew away.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t hear them cry, stupid bird,¡± Cullin said as he watched the raven fly away. ¡°Every bite of the axe. Never again.¡±


    The wood around the fae man grew quiet after the crow left. He was about to admit to himself that maybe he had been mistaken about his feelings, when a very faint noise blew in on the breeze. There was a rattle and a squeak to it, like wheels turning, and a shaking. He could smell the touch of magic, tinged with ginger and spicy wood, honey and peaches, a homey and pleasant smell, inviting, reminding him of something, maybe childhood delights. Cullin remembered a place like that once, a family who made him welcome, but they went over the hills and down the road many years ago after a forest fire.


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t change anything,¡± he said, but he took another whiff of the magic. It was nothing like the magic of high lady Elaine which always made him feel small and stupid, like he wasn¡¯t good enough to be around her, not that she had ever done anything to make him feel that way. It was her magic that thought him small. The day he mudded her had been a particularly irritating day after a wind storm, where several of his trees had been uprooted, and he just couldn¡¯t take any other thing, especially haughtiness when he was grieving over lost friends. There was no way he could have confused her with the rancid pond flavor of Rhodie the Nixie, ever hungry for more life, fish, frog or other, nor even the steel and polish taste of the magistrate from Waterford By Glint.


    ¡°Sometimes a person just has to do what he has to do,¡± he said to nobody in particular.


    His curiosity got the better of him and he climbed higher into the tree, disturbing a squirrel who was just as scolding as Morvran the crow, but who hadn¡¯t mastered speech, and so the Tree Shepherd let him continue until the squirrel got bored and went back to the business of squirreling.


    The noise grew a little louder.


    ¡°So who¡¯s coming?¡± Cullin asked.


    ¡°Maybe it¡¯s like in a romance story,¡± the tree whispered. Its voice was faint, like a thousand leaves shimmering together. ¡°A fair damsel in distress, fleeing a wicked king who killed her true love.¡±


    This time, the speaking surprised him. ¡°Who woke you up?¡± Cullin said, leaning hard against the branch. How long have you been listening?¡±


    ¡°You, my lord, who else?¡± the tree said. The squirrel peeked out from its nest, as if the sound confused it. ¡°Or maybe the touch of magic in the air. It¡¯s sweet like spring sap.¡±


    ¡°Or or maybe just Maple nosiness,¡± Cullin said, shifting a bit to watch the road better.


    ¡°I do like to watch,¡± the tree acknowledged. ¡°I want to know everything.¡±


    ¡°Not everything¡¯s fit to be known.¡±


    The maple ignored that, knowing full well it was better to know and not need to know than to be ignorant and need answers. After a moment, the tree continued.


    ¡°Maybe she¡¯ll be beautiful, like a willow in spring, with silver hair and eyes like sapphires.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t even know its a she. What the...where¡¯d you get that idea?¡±


    ¡°The nymph Leila. She comes by and reads me stories she picks up at Goblin Market. Such stories, with maidens rescued by pirates, ripping their bodices as they tremble...¡±


    ¡°Enough, tree. She¡¯s filling your mind with things you have no knowledge of. The only romance for a tree like you is the birds who make their nests here, and the squirrels. Maidens rescued by pirates are highly unlikely to show up. I¡¯ll have to talk to her again.¡±


    ¡°But still¡­.¡± The tree sighed, shaking its leaves...¡±I can hope. If such a maiden came by, at least I would get to see it.¡±


    A shape appeared down the road at last ¨C a cloud of dust, a rattle of wheel, a shape of vehicle, an outline of the beasts pulling it.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think you¡¯re going to get your wish, Maple,¡± Cullin said.


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not a woman on a palfrey, running from some evil wizard or duke. That¡¯s a wagon,¡± Cullin said. ¡°No maiden in a romance story rides on a wagon. All of them avoid that like the plague. Too far beneath the high and noble women in those stories, even in an emergency.¡±


    The wagon drew closer, and slowly Cullin could see it was a stout vehicle, painted bright green, piled high with all sorts of things, from the look of how the white tarp that covered it bulged and dipped...a chair shape, perhaps protruding at the top, and hints of barrels and boxes in other parts of the load. Pans attached to the frame rattled and jingled. There was a smell of spice and herb about it, and hidden, homey things. Behind the cart, three goats followed, and the cart itself was pulled by a pair of placid oxen.


    ¡°Now that¡¯s the wagon of someone who¡¯s either moving or lives out of it,¡± Morvran said, fluttering back to the maple.


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t look like a nomad¡¯s cart,¡± Cullin said.


    The tree sighed. ¡°I was so hoping.¡±


    As the cart grew closer, the group could see the driver, a woman.


    ¡°At least she¡¯s female,¡± Cullin said. ¡°No silver hair or silken robes, I believe.¡±


    ¡°Ah well,¡± said the tree. ¡°Can¡¯t have everything, can we?¡±


    ¡°If we¡¯re talking stories,¡± the raven said, ¡°she doesn¡¯t even look like the heroine. Just look at her.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m looking,¡± Cullin said.


    ¡°She could be the nurse in a story,¡± the raven said. ¡°Maybe she¡¯s the wise woman the heroine and hero turn to when they need some help, or to smuggle magic potions or cure their headaches.¡±


    ¡°Like the old women in Leila¡¯s stories, who give the princess a shoulder to cry on when the barbarian king tells her she¡¯s never going home again?¡± the maple asked.


    ¡°Something like that,¡± Cullin said. ¡°I¡¯ve really got to talk to Leila about reading stories to naive trees,¡± he mutttered.


    ¡°She looks like the woman who gave the hero the answer to the riddle the giant asked.¡± The raven cawed. ¡°I bet she knows all the hidden ways into the secret fortresses. Maybe she could give the hero a magic loaf of bread to tide them to journey¡¯s end.¡±


    The tree sighed happily. ¡°Almost as good as the silver haired princess.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re easy to please, aren¡¯t you,¡± Morvran asked.


    The tree shook its leaves in reply. It was hard to tell what she meant by that.


    The maple and his companions watched her as she drove by. No fine silks, ragged or ready to capture the eyes of a sorcerer for her, but a serviceable short gown of blue linen and a good brown wool petticoat, topped off with a white apron and a shawl.


    ¡°Looks like the sensible type,¡± Morvran said.


    ¡°She looks familiar,¡± Cullin said. ¡°I just...can¡¯t remember...¡± He shook his head. ¡°There was someone I knew a long time ago..¡±


    Upon her head she wore a wide brimmed hat, and in her left hand, carried a willow wand broom, her staff, her cattle goad, and in the end, what she swept with.


    ¡°Nope, not a desperate princess, Maple,¡± Morvran said. ¡°Watch her. She seems to know exactly what she¡¯s doing.¡±


    She sat easily in her conveyance. A cat, gray with white boots jumped from the top of the wagon and into her lap.


    ¡°Ah, there you are, Prydi, my boy,¡± she said, lightly touching the cat¡¯s back. ¡°I was wondering if the hawks had gotten off with you.¡± Her voice was pleasant, soft. The cat flicked an ear, as if unamused by her suggestion.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, my boy. We¡¯re almost to the crossroads. It won¡¯t be long after that.¡±


    One of the oxen lowed at that.


    ¡°Yes, Blowie,¡± she said to the animal. ¡°Pretty soon, pretty soon.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s going to Pixie Hollow?¡± Morvran asked.


    ¡°That¡¯s the only place up that road,¡± Cullin said. ¡°And right on the Allynswood side of the boundary. I don¡¯t even have any reason to mud her.¡±


    Morvran laughed. It was a raucous string of caws. ¡°Are you disappointed?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure. Maybe if I could remember why she seems familiar. But all those pixies. She must be stupid.¡±


    ¡°Or brave.¡±


    ¡°Or,¡± said the tree, ¡°heroic.¡±


    Cullin might have said something sarcastic about that, but he wasn¡¯t there.


    ¡°I wish I could travel as fast as he does, ¡°Morvran said, and took to the air to follow.

 Day 20 of Brightening Month, Continued

    Chapter 16


    Mistress Thistleberry¡¯s Everyday Bread


    In your dough bowl, put in a cup of warm water, a soup spoon of your starter yeast (see recipe four if you don¡¯t have any, but you should plan your starter well in advance of your first baking), and slow handful by slow handful, add your flour. Beat at least twenty strokes between handfuls for the best effect. About halfway through, the dough will start to get too stiff to beat with a spoon. Turn out on a kneading tray, sprinkle with one teaspoon of salt and bit by bit, knead in the rest of your flour. Keep kneading until the dough is smooth. If it feels dry, poke a little well in the center of the dough ball, and add a small amount of water, and knead that in. The end product should be slightly sticky, but not sticky enough to cling to your hands. When you think you have kneaded it enough, grease a large rising pan, put the dough in the pan, flip it over so the top has a coating of grease, cover the bowl, and let rise until double.


    Roll into a ball after punching it down and slice the top. The best way to bake it is in a covered iron pan in a very hot oven; a half an hour or a little more will usually be sufficient. The bread should be golden brown and when you tap on its bottom, it will sound hollow. Let it cool, then enjoy!


    Recipes from the Kitchens of Comrie , edited by Mella Cowrie. Recipe by Gan Thistleberry


    In Pixie Hollow, a small figure, not much larger than a thumb, got up from her aspen leaf bed, stretched, and shook her head. She had golden hair, and was dressed in a gown that looked like it was made from flower petals. As she shook, her gold curls danced around her head, and a small sprinkle of dust danced with it.


    ¡°I was wondering if you were going to sleep forever, Moxie,¡± a small, but definitely masculine voice said. ¡°It¡¯s almost noon!¡±


    Moxie looked up. She had been sleeping in a weedy garden in front of an old neglected house. It was partially dug into a hill, and not very far from a quiet stream, surrounded by trees and shrubs. One of the front shutters was hanging loose, but the windows were intact. The garden itself was filled with young shoots of wild lettuce and lamb¡¯s quarters and daisies and pepperweed, which made it perfect as far as the pixies were concerned. Moxie tore a bit of lamb¡¯s quarter leaf off and floated up to the pixie who was talking to her, sitting on the windowsill.


    ¡°You know I need my beauty sleep, Arne. Otherwise, you wouldn¡¯t like me nearly so well,¡± she said, leaning her head on his shoulder.


    He sighed.


    She jerked up and gave him a shove. ¡°What¡¯s that sigh supposed to mean? You¡¯re thinking of running off with that Acorn down at Redrock again?¡±


    Before he could answer, another pixie looked down from the roof, another male. He had made a bright blue cap out of a scrap of fabric he had found somewhere, and wore fine snakeskin breeches and a doublet of goosedown.


    ¡°You¡¯re in a mood today, aren¡¯t you?¡± he said, leaning so far over he tumbled down, but being a pixie, he caught himself in mid-air, gossamer wings holding him up.


    ¡°Something¡¯s in the air,¡± Arne said. ¡°Can¡¯t you smell it?¡±


    ¡°I can smell you,¡± Moxie said. ¡°You need to go to the stream and take a bath. Phew!¡± She gave him another, smaller shove, still irritated, and floated down to the ground.


    ¡°I don¡¯t smell anything weird,¡± the other male pixie said. ¡°Leaf mold, rabbit pellets, the last of that skunk who went through here last month, wildflowers, and willow.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s something else, Seamus,¡± he said.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t smell like breakfast, does it?¡± another pixie asked, landing near Moxie. ¡°I wish we had some bread. If that stupid Tree Shepherd didn¡¯t scare off everybody in the forest!,¡± the newcomer said. ¡°I remember when they were lots of travelers. They were always dropping bread.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s been here longer than you, Bu,¡± Moxie said. ¡°Last time we got any bread is because he scared a whole group of bigs at breakfast.¡±


    ¡°They sure ran fast,¡± Bu said, nodding. ¡°That mud he throws. Thom Green got caught in it once. He stank forever.¡±


    ¡°Is that why he went to Red Rock? I hear the spring there is very good.¡± Yet another three pixies joined the group.


    ¡°He didn¡¯t go to Red Rock, Dahlia,¡± Moxie said.


    ¡°I saw him there,¡± said Rufus Redcap, standing next to Dahlia. ¡°Big as life.¡±


    ¡°How?¡± asked Seamus. ¡°You haven¡¯t been away from the old house since forever!¡±


    ¡°Then it was before forever,¡± Rufus said, standing up to Seamus. ¡°I went there just last week, and found this feather in my cap.¡±


    ¡°That sparrow-down?¡± Gillie asked. She petted his cap. ¡°I thought I saw that down by the stream. Yesterday, in fact.¡±


    ¡°You liar!¡± Rufus said. He pulled Gillie¡¯s hair, and hard.


    ¡°Yieee!¡± she screamed. Suddenly Seamus, Moxie, Dahlia and a few other pixies surrounded Rufus. ¡°You big meanie!¡± Gillie said, pointing at him. ¡°What should we do with a meanie?¡±


    ¡°I know where there¡¯s a cat,¡± Seamus said.


    Arne jumped down between them all. ¡°Hush! Listen!¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that sound?¡± Moxie asked. It rumbled, rattled, grumbled, moving closer and closer to the house. ¡°Is it thunder?¡±


    ¡°Not a cloud in the sky,¡± Rufus said, looking up. Their argument and near fight dissolved the the novelty. Someone was singing.


    ¡° As we go around the bend,¡± sang the voice, a woman¡¯s voice,


    ¡°Let us while and wend,


    the day to discover.


    ¡°As we go around the bend,


    a house to fix and mend,


    let¡¯s put bread on the table.¡±


    ¡°Bread,¡± Moxie said fondly.


    The rumbling grew louder, as did the singing. There was something that caught the pixies¡¯ attention.


    ¡°As we go around the bend,


    What else shall I send?


    I have some pie.¡±


    ¡°Pie?¡± said Arne.


    The words were more than just words being sung. There was magic in them. They could almost see what was being sung, a table piled high with good things to eat, almost taste them.


    ¡°Who is it? Who is it?¡± Seamus asked. ¡°Who¡¯s singing?¡±


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Gilly shot up into the air, and landed on a tree branch. ¡°Something big,¡± she said. ¡°Two huge dragons are pulling something. Every time they step sparks fly from their hooves.


    ¡°Dragons don¡¯t have hooves,¡± Moxie said. ¡°They have toes, and claws. Haven¡¯t you ever been to Goblin Market? There¡¯s dragons at the station there.¡± She drifted up to join the little pixie on the branch. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen anything like it!¡±


    ¡°Like what?¡± Arne asked.


    ¡°Two big animals. They are pulling something. Something green.¡±


    Arne joined them on the branch.


    The voice began singing once more.


    ¡°Around the bend


    my days to mend,


    welcome to pixies, too.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s...that¡¯s a wagon, you silly twit.¡± Arne said. ¡°Why are all of you acting so empty-headed? You¡¯ve seen them on the highway. Whenever the magistrates come and guide them to Waterford. Or to Allynswood.¡±


    ¡°A wagon?¡± Moxie said. She flew up to join them. ¡°What¡¯s a wagon doing here? Nobody but Cullin ever comes here.¡±


    ¡°Ever since the old hermit left. Even he couldn¡¯t stand that guy,¡± Arne said, nodding.


    ¡°I thought you said it was you,¡± Seamus said.


    ¡°Do I stink like mud?¡± Arne said.


    ¡°Don¡¯t ask,¡± Gilly said.


    A shadow flew across the sky. Seamus looked up. ¡°There¡¯s that nosy bird.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s he doing here? Moxie said, perturbed. ¡°This is our excitement, not his.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s always got to stick his beak in,¡± Seamus said in agreement.


    Morvran landed on a different branch.


    ¡°So, someone¡¯s coming to the old hollow,¡± the bird cawed. ¡°I just wanted to see the fun.¡±


    ¡°What fun?¡± Arne said.


    ¡°When she gets here, and finds out that its infested with pixies.¡±


    ¡°But...but...but¡­.¡± Gillie said.


    ¡°She promised us bread,¡± Moxie said.


    ¡°And pie,¡± Arne added.


    ¡°And that¡¯s enough to let her stay?¡± Morvran said.


    ¡°Yes!¡± they all said in unison.


    ¡°She welcomed us!¡± Moxie said. ¡°She said ¡®Pixies welcome!¡¯ She knows we¡¯re here!¡±


    ¡°This I have to tell the Tree Shepherd.¡± Morvran let out a loud, raucous caw and flew off.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think he believed you,¡± Mistress Gan said, watching the raven fly off after pulling her wagon into the clearing. Somehow, a talking raven didn¡¯t surprise her at all.


    Moxie flew up to the woman before she could start to get out. ¡°Do you like pixies?¡±


    ¡°Do you like pie?¡± Gan asked, smiling warmly at the little sprite dancing in front of her nose.


    ¡°Yes,¡± The pixies sitting on the branch answered in unison. They lifted up as a group and circled Gan¡¯s head. ¡°You really have pie?¡±


    ¡°We love food,¡± Seamus said.


    ¡°And bread,¡± Moxie mentioned.


    ¡°Then,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯ll think we¡¯ll get along fine. Today, I have plenty of bread and pie.¡±


    And with that, among cheers from her new neighbors, she got out of the cart, walked over to the door of the old house, and let herself in.


    The door squeaked open as she entered, but at least it opened.


    ¡°Nobody¡¯s lived here since the Old Hermit ran off,¡± Moxie said. ¡°He didn¡¯t like pixies very much.¡±


    ¡°I see,¡± said Gan. She took her hat off and took a little mirror out of it. Quickly, she breathed on it, and it began to glow with arcane symbols. ¡°Nobody lived here except for a busy family of mice, a sparrow or three, six generations of squirrels, and at least a dozen pixies,¡± she said.


    ¡°Twenty three,¡± Arne said proudly. ¡°It¡¯s not everybody that can keep that many pixies together.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± Gan said, lifting an eyebrow. She was impressed. ¡°So you¡¯re the leader?¡±


    ¡°He thinks he is,¡± Moxie said, crossing her arms. ¡°But he¡¯s just the biggest.¡±


    ¡°Biggest bully,¡± Seamus added.


    Arne gave Seamus a quick shove as if to prove his point.


    ¡°Hmm.¡± But the old mistress of practical magic filed that fact away. ¡°Anybody that could keep two dozen or so pixies in one place had some management skills. Noteworthy! Well if we want pie, first, I have to find a place for the cows and goats.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s a barn,¡± Rosebud said. ¡°I sleep there sometimes.¡±


    ¡°Good, good,¡± Gan said.


    ¡°There¡¯s a field next to it, too,¡± Arne said. ¡°I don¡¯t go there too often. Foxes and hawks, you know.¡±


    The big woman nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll just leave the the door open while I take care of that. It could use an airing out.¡±


    ¡°The old hermit, he didn¡¯t wash too often,¡± Moxie said.


    The cows and goats attended to, Gan walked back into the house, and looked around. The back of the house was built into the hill. Furthest back was a room set up to be a storeroom. It got a little light from a tiny window that looked out into the pasture, almost blocked by weeds growing outside but was basically cool and dark. Off to one side was a bedroom that had a lovely window, a ragged looking bed with the remains of an old mattress, a peg row for clothes and a wobbly chair.


    ¡°This is my favorite room¡± one of the pixies said.


    The bulk of the rest of the house was one room, the largest in the house. On one side was a huge fireplace, on the other side some built in cupboards. A scarred table and one chair were in the middle of the room.


    ¡°Do you like it?¡± Moxie asked.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t it gorgeous?¡± Dahlia said. ¡°So good against the wind!¡±


    Gan ran her fingers over the dust on the table. ¡°Ellie told me it would need work,¡± she muttered, but then, looking up at the pixies, who were circling her with hopeful anticipation, ¡°Yes, yes, I like it fine. It¡¯ll do quite well after we get it cleaned up. But first,¡± she said, pulling a clean hankie out of her pocket, ¡°Let¡¯s dust off the table and have some bread and pie.¡±


    The room broke out in cascades of cheers and pixie dust.


    <hr>


    Grimsbeard stood on his balcony, looking out over the city below him. It was much quieter than during festival times. Most major companies did maintain an important, sometimes home office here; all the division heads kept their main offices and records in the town, as well as the adjudication offices, major and minor courts, and other government agencies. There were shops, some aimed at the people working, like eateries, supply stores, bookshops; others were important storefronts for the big merchant concerns. Clerks and shoppers and even a few tourists walked its streets as he watched. It hummed with the well-oiled feel of a good machine, not the bright chaos of the winter solstice festival. For some reason, that made him a little sad, and he sighed.


    There was a polite cough behind him, and he turned around.


    ¡°You called for me, President?¡± The Master Investigator stepped onto the balcony as Grimsbeard gestured for him to come closer.


    ¡°Lovely day, is it not, Master Investigator? The weather¡¯s warming up, the sky is beautiful, and people are out and about.¡±


    ¡°It is a pleasant day, sir,¡± he said, waiting patiently for Grimsbeard to get to his point.


    ¡°I keep thinking about seeing Gandaran moving like that, and what it might mean if he awakens, and he comes after everything we¡¯ve built since he went into his deep rest.¡± He sighed again. ¡°There would be no lovely days left in Willowick, nothing left but ruins. But why...why are we not finding out who or what is causing his unrest?¡±


    ¡°We can see it. Someone is planting clues against the transportation sector,¡± Master Investigator said. ¡°Or else someone there has gone mad.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re referring to the missing no space researchers?¡± Grimsbeard leaned against the railing, and swished his tail against the floor. Few dragonkin grew tails any more, and his was longer than most, which gave the president extra status as being one of the most dragonlike of his people, but it didn¡¯t make him close to a true dragon like Gandaran, and he knew it. It kicked up a line of dust as it moved.


    Master Investigator kept nimbly out of its¡¯ reach.


    ¡°You don¡¯t think Briarwood is involved?¡± Grimsbeard said. ¡°I know I¡¯d been wishing we¡¯d trip him up at something, but...¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t prove it one way or the other, but it would be massively stupid of him to do something like that.¡± Master Investigator shrugged. ¡°Everybody would think of him first and foremost, and he is still smart enough to know that much at least.¡± The smaller dragonkin scratched under his chin. ¡°But there¡¯s definitely something going on across the Boundary Lands...a lot more smuggler activity than usual. Are they bypassing Jared Redbeard? I hear he¡¯s turned in more than one group to the King¡¯s Guard. Does it involve a new push from the Shadowlands?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s always smuggling,¡± Grimsbeard said, shrugging. ¡°Ynys Afel turns a blind eye, we make a little profit, the Shadowlands lies a little more quiet because of it, whatever they do. And Redbeard just gets fatter.¡±


    ¡°Not at this level. And it¡¯s affecting the price of dreamdust. Too much of it out and about and you know the Daoine are going to get involved. And what are the Shadowlanders getting in exchange?¡±


    ¡°Something they must want badly, no doubt. Dreamdust costs them a lot to make.¡± Grimsbeard frowned, and his tail swooshed again.


    ¡°And that would mean someone up high knows about it. Maybe pushing it.¡±


    The president studied his claws. ¡°And no doubt cutting us totally out of the profit loop, not that we¡¯d let them get that much across the boundary. The trading people will not like that. ¡± He looked up as an idea struck him. ¡°Do you think someone might be trying to pit division against division? Transportation against trade for a start?¡±


    ¡°That is something I want to look into,¡± Master Investigator said. ¡°Something else came up. There was a wildcat black opal mine in the Gray Lands that was attacked by a rogue dragonkin who used Blazendraught on one of the miners. The mine was under negotiation to be bought out by a little Exploration division company called Sinter Acquisitions. I¡¯ve had one of my best working on it, but we don¡¯t have any real leads. But it could be another attempt to cause bad blood with another one of the Divisions. I don¡¯t have enough information. And you know how hard it is for us to get solid intelligence there. That would be three divisions under attack.¡±


    ¡°Damn it. An attack on the pact itself?¡± Grimsbeard took a deep breath. ¡°No wonder Gandaran moved. I¡¯ll need to post a watch to see if he moves more.¡± He turned to Master Investigator. ¡°I can watch Gandaran, but what can I do to help you learn more?¡±


    A tiny glint touched the investigator¡¯s eyes. ¡°I would like to talk to the Oldest. She has information sources I cannot reach. Perhaps we could even set up a liaision between the White Isle and Sunderland until this is over.¡±


    The president nodded. ¡°Carefully, though. If Ynys Afel had to publicly deal with some of what we do in less noticed corners¡­¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll need something to offer her, though. ¡° ¡®Help me because I don¡¯t have enough information¡¯ won¡¯t be enough to get her to agree.¡±


    Grimsbeard turned away from the balcony and went to his desk, followed by the investigator. He sat down and fingered a touchstone that would call his assistant Bluestone, then gave the other Dragonkin a truly frightening grin. ¡°I think I have just the right thing.¡±

 Day 20 of the Brightening Month, Continued #2

    Chapter 17


    As firstborn of the Lifegiver, all the Fae have the gift to touch the flame we call magic. Most of us even have some special area of magic that¡¯s our unique gift. Many of us don¡¯t use it well, or often. That is why touchstones are so popular; they amplify our poor underdeveloped magic abilities for those odd times we want to invoke the power.


    Why? Well magic can be messy. Poorly done, it can cause all sorts of unxpected consequences, especially big magics ¨C look at the Dragonkin. They came to An Lar because someone on Dragonhame cast a magic that created the Fire Sickness, a magic sickness that infected almost all of them. It made those touched by it mad, burning everything in sight. If Gandaran hadn¡¯t invented the magical medicine Blazendraught, there would be no more Dragonkin. As it was, Dragonhame is a burned, blighted place, scarred by the wars that led to the Fire Sickness, and Dragonkin are smaller, less powerful than they were before the disaster, also an unexpected magical side effect of Blazendraught.


    Another example is the Boundary Lands. The nearer you get to the Boundary Wall, the more blighted the land becomes. It¡¯s not just the impact of long ages of fighting between the Shadowlands and the Sunlit Lands. The fact that it spills out for miles on either side of the wall shows it¡¯s the magic woven into the wall itself that creates some of the wasting.


    And all of us have heard horror stories of people who misused their touchstones, or tried a spell that backfired.


    Still, where there are Fae, there will be magic. Pixies will fly, nymphs will seduce, the Lake Folk will build their homes in the deeps of lakes, shapeshifters will change form, and all the myriad forms of magic that is just natural to us.


    What we do here, then, is to find the best, most practical ways to use magic, how to avoid the pitfalls and come into our own heritage safel y. This has been our goal ever since Belisama walked the ruins of the world after the T roubles and the Sundering. I hope you, too, can find the best ways to find the way to your own heritage here.


    The Way of Practical Studies - Goosequill Leader Lissa Roseburn


    Gan pushed up her sleeves, tied the hankie like a scarf around her head, and headed out to her cart to grab a basket of goodies.


    After giving the pixies their first taste of what it was going to be like living with her, she got down to the real work of moving in. A little domestic magic unbundled the wagon, and had a neat pile of trunks, barrels, chests and mysterious bundles lined up around the front of the house, joined by a work table, four nice kitchen chairs, an overstuffed comfortable chair, a good mattress, a wardrobe, and several other things.


    ¡°You had all that in your wagon?¡± Bu the pixie asked. ¡°How?¡±


    ¡°Bauchan magic,¡± Gan said. ¡°The men who packed the wagon were very good at it.¡±


    The first thing she did was create a pixie-free zone in the bedroom, much to the chagrin of Cowslip, who was camping out there to get away from the others.


    ¡°It¡¯s not fair!¡± the little pixie said. She fluttered in front of the door, looking at the space longingly. To a pixie¡¯s eyes, the doorway glittered with an ominous red light. Cowslip walked over to touch it. It gently pushed her back. She flew into it. This time, it was like running into a wall. She bounced off it hard.


    ¡°It might not be, but it¡¯s a price you have to pay for all the good things that I¡¯m bringing,¡± Gan said, as she hung fresh curtains on the bedroom window. ¡°Sometimes, a woman needs a place to have a little privacy. And a way to keep the pixie dust out of her things.¡±


    ¡°Be nice,¡± Arne said, helping Cowslip up. ¡°That pie was delicious!¡±


    It was a nice, sunny room. overlooking the flower beds, and the forest beyond. Alas, the garden was in a wild and uncultivated state, filled with the dead weeds of last summer. ¡°That¡¯s another something I need to take care of. Well, one thing at a time.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s get rid of this,¡± she said, grabbing the thin and dirty mattress, and dragging it to the front door where she tossed it under a maple tree. It landed there, almost flat, stained and torn in a place or two.


    ¡°The old hermit didn¡¯t care much about his comfort, did he?¡± Gan said, brushing her hands off and almost immediately, Cowslip and three other pixies who had followed her out were fighting on who would get to spend the night on it.


    ¡°Comfort must be relative,¡± she said, reaching for her own mattress in the stack of furnishings to move in.


    Her own mattress was much firmer, and happily, it fit on the bedframe nicely. Moxie and Arne watched her from the warded doorway as she worked, spreading sheets and blankets and pillows on the bed.


    ¡°Why do you do that?¡± Moxie asked. ¡°You could be like me and find a nice pile of leaves to sleep on. This looks hard.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a bit hard to find a leaf pile big enough for a body like mine,¡± Gan replied.


    Moxie bit her bottom lip, thinking. ¡°I guess you¡¯re right,¡± she said.


    The room arranged to her liking and perfectly free of pixies, Gan moved into the kitchen, and half a dozen little sprites followed her. ¡°For this, I¡¯ll need the heavy duty apron,¡± she said, taking it off the hook. ¡°And a pair of work sleeves.¡± She rummaged in one of chests she had left in the main room, and found them, slipping them over the sleeves of her dress. ¡°And a cap, else my hair will be filled with soot before it¡¯s time to cook dinner.¡± That was in the same chest. She unfastened the kerchief she had worn earier, then put it on and tied it firmly under her chin. ¡°No dust getting to me!¡±


    The pixies followed her around while she did this. Seamus got caught in her clothes chest. Moxie tugged on her cap until Gan brushed her off. ¡°Why are you wearing that, anyway?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m cleaning the oven out, and tidying up the fireplace. You do like pie, don¡¯t you? And I want to fix a pot of soup for dinner.¡±


    ¡°Let her alone,¡± Arne said. ¡°You tasted her pie.¡±


    ¡°How about bread?¡± Moxie asked.


    ¡°Yay, soup!¡± Rosebud said, flying up to join them.


    ¡°All of those, little ones, depend on a clean-enough kitchen. And I must admit, the previous owner and the pixies who lived here didn¡¯t do much to keep it clean enough to cook in!¡±


    Moxie laughed. Seamus shoved her. Gan rolled her eyes.


    Fetching her broom, a bucket, a huge pile of cleaning cloths, towels, an ash bucket, a coal shovel, two basins and a feather duster, she got to work.


    Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    It didn¡¯t take long to dust and sweep. But the fireplace was another issue. She looked at it carefully. It was actually a very good one. There was a bench set along one wall that jutted out a little ways from the wall, and had two ovens, a good, if grimy transom for pot hooks, and a wide assortment of tools, grates, and a spider griddle on four legs.


    ¡°No way am I going to sweep this down by hand, and I bet the chimney is a mess, too.¡± She went outside, found a barrel that had been used for ash, moved it far away from the furnishings she was moving in. ¡°Perfect,¡± she said. ¡°I just hope it¡¯s big enough.¡±


    Back inside, she stood in front of the fireplace, made a sigil in the air, a fiery sign that transmogrified into a whirling globe that ran through the fireplace, sucking up all traces of ash and soot and black wherever it touched. It went across the pot hooks, the spider, the grates, the two bake ovens,and up the chimney.


    There was a sound, somewhere between a rush and a clatter. Gan went out to check her handiwork, and found a barrel filled with ash, cinder and dirt, full to overflowing.


    ¡°Well, that was a messier place than even I realized.¡±


    ¡°All that was in the fireplace?¡± Moxie asked.


    ¡°And in the chimney. I see it was well past the point of a good sweeping.¡± She gave a contented sigh. ¡°Glad I thought of it. Now to the next step.¡±


    ¡°Food?¡± Seamus asked.


    ¡°Soon, little man. Soon.¡±


    Staple foods: flour, rice, sugar, peas, and other such were put away in the pantry, with a charm against mouse, insect and pixie, much to the chagrin of all of her gathered audience. A cabinet was filled with bottles, spices and herbs, tantalizing smells and tastes that made the pixies intensely curious. Another was filled with an odd array of boxes and bottles and cans and strange containers. This she locked closed. ¡°Some things should only be opened when necessary,¡± she declared.


    Finally she unpacked her dishes, good plates and bowls of wood and pottery, a ceramic teapot, cups, saucers, water glasses, sauce bowls, soup bowls, serving bowls, mixing bowls, graters, grinders, mortars, spoons, knives, cleavers, saws, an axe, stew pots, bread pans, pie pans, roasting pans, ladles, pastry cutters, turners, strainers, and a good, large tea kettle. The last thing she put away was wrapped in a cloth bag.


    ¡°And this, children, is what makes my pies so good.¡± She pulled out her rolling pin, the one she had recently bought in Comrie, and placed it in a place of honor in a kitchen drawer.


    ¡°Can we eat yet?¡± Arne asked.


    ¡°If you give me time to cook!¡±


    <hr>


    Violetta Greenleaf found herself in a strange place. She knew she wasn¡¯t awake. Her body felt far away. She wasn¡¯t sure if she was dreaming. It was, in some ways, very dreamlike, a place of floating and light and shadow, sweeping over her from time to time, and then she was where she was now, sitting in a puddle of sunlight in the middle of a garden.


    Tall climbing roses worked their way up the garden wall, a cascade of red and white and pink against gray brickwork. There was a flagstone trail where creeping thyme grew in the cracks, and surrounded by a cascade of flowers, corn flowers, cosmos, delphinium, poppies, catmint, and more. Bees and butterflies drifted lazily about, gathering their food. For some reason, she felt the need to see where the path led to, so she stood up. Slowly, as if walking were a new thing for her, she took careful step after step heading down the path.


    The path curved, leaving the sunlight pool and its sun loving flowers, and entered a stretch of trees ¨C apple, peach, walnut, and growing shade. The flowers changed, columbine and hosta among them. Finally she reached a massive oak tree, surrounded by moss-covered rocks.


    Beneath the oak was another bench, made of carved stone. She sat down, suddenly very tired. Hearing chittering, she looked up and saw a gray squirrel. It held something in its paws, which it dropped into her lap.


    It was a piece of paper, folded tightly. She unfolded it. ¡°Soon you will have to awaken,¡± she read aloud.


    ¡°But not quite yet,¡± said a voice to her right.


    She turned around. All she saw there was a rabbit in the grass. It flicked its ear, then bounded off.


    ¡°What?¡± she asked. ¡°Why?¡± She was not afraid or disturbed by the rabbit¡¯s words, or even surprised that a rabbit had spoken to her. It fit, here in this place.


    ¡°We will tell you when it¡¯s time,¡± said a flying rock dove. ¡°Until then, rest.¡±


    Leaning back against the oak tree, the world around her, the fruit trees and the flagstones and the flowers slowly melted into a place where light and shadow swirled around her in shifting waves, and once again she felt she was floating.


    Somewhere, where she couldn¡¯t sense it, two people were looking down on her body. One of them wiped her forehead with a cooling cloth.


    ¡°How much longer?¡±Xhindi asked.


    Violetta breathed in and let it out, slower than a normal sleeping person. She was very pale, and her hair pooled around her, sweated out.


    ¡°A few more days, and either her body will defeat the spider toxin, or she will die,¡± his sister said. She looked up at him. ¡°She feels no pain, no terror while the magic holds her. And her leg is healing. The plan will have to wait at least that long, and longer if she makes it. If she doesn¡¯t,¡± the woman shrugged, ¡°Well, at least the Mother of Smoke and Fire will have eased her journey onward.¡±


    ¡°This is definitely not the field trip she expected,¡± Xhindi said, getting up and leaving the room.


    ¡°Neither did the rest of us,¡± the Called said, and went back to her nursing the ailing woman.


    <hr>


    Cullin sat in a tree, overlooking the field that separated the house at Pixie Hollow from the boundary of his forest, watching the woman at work. She had been moving back and forth, sometimes with the help of magic, always with a cloud of pixies following her every move. She didn¡¯t seem to mind their presence at all. Finally, things were put away. Shortly thereafter, she must have lit a fire in the old fireplace, as smoke began to drift out of the chimney.


    ¡°She must have something up her sleeve,¡± Morvran said.


    ¡°You¡¯re a suspicious one,¡± Cullin said. ¡°Just like a raven to see evil omens everywhere. Can¡¯t stand any new shiny thing, can you?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a fine one to say anything,¡± the raven said. ¡°Who haunts the road to make sure nobody even picks up a dry stick?¡±


    Cooking smells began to drift on the late afternoon breeze.


    ¡°Definitely setting up home,¡± Morvran said. ¡°You going to to anything about it?¡±


    ¡°Watch,¡± Cullin said, and leapt to the ground. He dashed across the field and hurried to the front door of the house, and rapped on it, hard, three times.


    Gan opened it. She was much shorter than he was, a bit stout, wearing a white cap on her head and a slightly soiled apron around her waist. Her face was pleasant but not beautiful, contented as she looked up at him. She gave him a welcoming look almost as if she had been expecting him.


    ¡°Ah, Tree Shepherd! I was hoping you¡¯d stop by,¡± she said, and opened the door wide.


    He looked in and saw the brightly lit room, with bowls and dishes on the table, the hearth clean and bright, and a comfortable chair in just the right place to enjoy the fireplace. His eyes lit up with surprise.


    ¡°What did you do to this place? I was here last week. How... This place...it feels like¡­.¡±


    ¡°¡±Home?¡± she said. ¡°Come in, Cullin Mosswood. And you, too, Master Raven.¡±


    ¡°Morvran. My name is Morvran.¡±


    ¡°Morvran it is,¡± Gan replied, with a nod of her head.


    ¡°The meanie has come,¡± Gillie said, crossing her arms and scowling. ¡°He¡¯s mean to everybody. He chased me out of the house when he came by.¡±


    Moxie joined her. ¡°He tried to grab Bu, too.¡±


    ¡°Hush, child,¡± Gan said. ¡°No he¡¯s not mean. He¡¯s protective. That¡¯s his job.¡±


    For a moment, Cullin recovered his sternness. He gave the little Fae woman a curt nod. ¡°I just came to say stay on your side of the boundary. The other side is mine.¡±


    ¡°But of course,¡± Gan said, nodding. That surprised him. ¡°I know you take your duties very seriously. I promise never to go into your lands without your permission. I take my promises as seriously as you do your duties.¡±


    It was like something cracked, almost audible. Moxie flew up to a rafter on the wings of the energy.


    ¡°Yes, I do,¡± he said. ¡°And I will hold you to your word.¡±


    There was a loud caw, and Morvan fluttered to the floor. ¡°She invited the pixies to stay,¡± he cawed. ¡°Pixies!¡±


    Arne flew over to him. ¡°What¡¯s wrong with Pixies?¡±


    ¡°So what, Morvran?¡± Cullin asked. ¡°Pixies have a right to a place to live.¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± said Seamus, fluttering nearby. For a moment, it looked like he would land on Cullin¡¯s shoulder, then returned to the table.


    ¡°It¡¯s not natural, I say.¡± The raven fluffed his feathers, and turned his head to stare at Gan with his right eye. ¡°What¡¯s your game?¡±


    Gillie landed on the raven¡¯s back ¡°She¡¯s nice,¡± she said. ¡°More than you.¡±


    This made Gan smile. She tapped her chin with one finger. ¡°Are you hungry, Master Raven?¡± she said. ¡°I have apple pie.¡±


    ¡°And bread!¡± Moxie said. ¡°I love bread.¡±


    ¡°And cabbage and bacon, more than I can eat,¡± Gan continued. ¡°You two come in. You look like you could use a good feeding.¡±


    Overwhelmed by the unexpected invitation, Cullin found himself dragged in, sat down at her table, a big bowl of bubble and squeak placed in front of him, almost before he could blink.


    As Gan got up to get another cup out of the cupboard, she thought of her former place of employ. ¡°Make fun of my practical magics, will you, Master Grendal? Let¡¯s see you master this.¡±


    And turning, she sat down and poured the tea.

 Day 20 of the Brightening Month, Continued #3

    Chapter 18


    He was an intense, needy little boy. I found him in the wreck of a house near the nightfell gateway after their last major breakthrough before we got it walled off. He was a big eyed child, not much more than a toddler. We never did find his parents.


    For a long time, he stayed in the creche for new foundlings, where they get extra attention. One night, I walked through the rooms and found him sitting up in the dark, rocking back and forth, trying not to cry and disturb the other children. He was already older than they were, and although he was young, I could feel his magical aura flare, far stronger than you would expect from a child so young and untrained. I picked him up and moved him into my quarters.


    ¡°What¡¯s your name, son?¡±


    ¡°Cullin,¡± he said.


    ¡°And what were doing? It was very hard on you. I could feel it outside of the door. You should have been sleeping.¡±


    ¡°Couldn¡¯t sleep,¡± the boy said. He dropped his eyes. ¡°Too many nightmares.¡±


    I sighed. Many of our foundlings had nightmares. Children of war, children of trauma, orphaned, abused ¨C it wasn¡¯t surprising.


    ¡°I was trying to take their nightmares away. Redleaf was having a really bad one. Mia dreamed she was being chased.¡±


    ¡°You can see their dreams?¡±


    ¡°Kind of. Almost. I can feel their hurt. And sometimes I can turn it off.¡±


    I had no idea he was showing that type of talent. Dangerous for the person doing it, especially with no training. It could be horribly draining. It can destroy the soul of a person doing it badly. It could be turned into a tool to control others.


    ¡°Have you been doing this long?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Since last month,¡± he said. ¡°Is it bad? Something against the rules? I was trying to help.¡±


    ¡°It is not bad,¡± I said. He sat on my bed, looking at me with deep, worried blue eyes. Even at that age, they were very penetrating. I knelt on the floor next to him and took his hands. ¡°It¡¯s a very special gift from the Life Giver. It takes practice and training to do it well, or you¡¯ll be living all the bad things you¡¯re trying to take away from the hurting people. And if you get upset, you can send your upset to people.


    ¡°I...I think I did that yesterday at school.¡±


    ¡°Was it good?¡±


    He shook his head. ¡°I could feel their upset.¡±


    ¡°I tell you what, young Cullin. You will be my boy now, and I¡¯ll make sure you learn how to take care of talent you have. Would you like that?¡±


    ¡°With you?¡± His eyes got big. ¡°Just me?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right.¡±


    He wrapped his arms around me.


    Memories of a Long Life  , by Sulis, Oldest of the White Circle


    Arriane saw the Oldest kneeling in her garden, her usual white robe replaced by a simple work dress and apron, gloves on her hands and a trowel and small rake next to her. Even her silver-blond hair was covered by a kerchief and a straw hat. Next to her was a big basket of trimmings and pulled plants.


    ¡°Oldest! Why isn¡¯t one of the gardeners seeing to your garden?¡± the young woman asked.


    The Oldest looked up, and got up off of her knees, and brushed a bit of plant debris and dirt off of her clothes. ¡°Ah, Youngest,¡± she said, continuing the White Circle¡¯s rule about not calling the person in the role of the Youngest by their given name for the year they had that role, then gave Arriane a warm smile. ¡°You caught me. This is something I do every spring. I just feel the need to reconnect to the earth.¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± Arriane said, nodding. ¡°My father was the same way about his rose garden. In fact he never let any of the gardeners without him directly supervising, and he did a lot of the work himself. I was shocked when he handed the key to the garden to my sister and moved away to do his researches. The first time he came back for a visit, he walked through the garden once, and sighed deeply, but never has gone back again.¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m not quite that controlling,¡± the Oldest said. ¡°I just like to feel the newness of every spring, and see what the winter left behind. It reminds me that things change, and no matter how much we lose at any one time, there is newness that will follow it. Soon enough, I will bring the gardeners in to do the rest of it. But for the moment, it is my quiet reminder.¡± She put her gardening gloves in her apron pocket. ¡°So, child, is there anything I can do for you?¡±


    ¡°I just received a message from my sister. She asked me come home for a few weeks.¡±


    The Oldest picked up her basket and moved to another section of the garden. ¡°Does Lady Elaine have a problem?¡± She knelt down, put her gloves back on, and pulled up a winter-killed plant stem.


    ¡°I think she misses Gweir.¡± Arriane knelt next to her, and grabbed a similar plant. ¡°He¡¯s doing some training, I think, that keeps him out of contact, and they missed their wedding anniversary.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m surprised she¡¯s not coming here to visit with you and your mother,¡± the Oldest said. ¡°If you do too much of that, you need to grab a pair of gloves. It will blister your hands.¡±


    Arriane dropped the plant in the basket. ¡°Oh, I know.¡± She looked down at her hands. ¡°When I was younger I¡¯d help my mother and sister in the spring. One year my hands got so blistered, I could barely hold a cup of water.¡± Shaking her head at the memory, she glanced at the Oldest. ¡°I asked Elaine to come visit, but she says she¡¯s can¡¯t leave right now. An old friend of her school days in Comrie is moving onto the estate, and she wants to make sure she gets settled in.¡±


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    ¡°Elaine went to Master Gwaher¡¯s school?¡± the Oldest said, grabbing another dried out plant stem.


    Arriane nodded. ¡°She wanted to go there. I wanted to stay home. Maybe it was trying to be different from her, but I had tutors until I came to the White Island.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a good school. The Goosequills have been after one of their teachers for years, a woman called Gan Thistleberry. They even tried to get me to help recruit her.¡±


    ¡°Gan Thistleberry? That¡¯s who¡¯s moving to Allynswood.¡±


    This surprised the Oldest. She rocked back on her feet and got up. ¡°Thistleberry? What budged her out of the school?¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t hear about it?¡± Arriane stood up, and dusted off her robe. ¡°Master Gwaher disappeared about three years ago. The board running the school replaced the headmaster recently, and one of the first things he did was fire Mistress Thistleberry.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I remember.¡± the Oldest said. ¡°He¡¯s one of the missing researchers the Birch has been investigating. Let¡¯s go into my office.¡±


    Arriane followed.


    ¡°I had been pondering the message the seer gave us for Brightening day. ¡®A scholar with no school approaches. You will know her by a cloud of lights innocent as day dancing in the sun that will surround her. She searches for the missing, trapped, trapped by a lie, trapped by greed.¡¯ Today, you tell me that a teacher from Comrie, where the old headmaster disappeared three years ago, is moving to Allynswood. A scholar with no school approaches. Thistleberry is well respected for her work on Practical Magic, especially Domestic Magic. She caused quite a stir a few years ago with a monograph on not using touchstone devices not to teach young students. Definitely going against an educational trend with that one, although everything she said made sense.¡±


    The Oldest began looking through her files. ¡°Ah, here it is. It seems that Thistleberry has been trying to motivate the DIC and anybody else to investigate Gwaher¡¯s disappearance.¡±


    ¡°DIC?¡± Arriane asked. ¡°Why them?¡±


    ¡°Seems that Master Gwaher was doing research on no space mechanics. That¡¯s the Dragonkin¡¯s special area, and all no space related incidents are supposed to be investigated by them.¡± She sat down in her chair. ¡°So Mistress Thistleberry is a scholar without a school. And she¡¯s definitely searching for the missing. But what about the innocent cloud of lights?¡±


    ¡°Could it be pixies?¡± Arriane asked.


    ¡°Pixies?¡± The Oldest said, looking thoughtful.


    ¡°She¡¯s moving into a house in an area called Pixie Hollow. The area¡¯s swarming with Pixies.¡±


    ¡°Pixies.¡± The Oldest tapped her fingers on the desk, and came to a decision. ¡°Youngest, I know it¡¯s not traditional to send the Youngest out in the field during her nameless time, but these are your people. Would you be willing to go and make a report?¡±


    <hr>


    ¡°How did that happen?¡± Cullin asked, still surprised about his meeting with Gan. He said in a tree near the boundary. He could still taste the meal she had served him. How did she turn his demand for her to show respect to the boundary into the sharing of food?


    ¡°Don¡¯t ask me,¡± said Morvran. ¡°She¡¯s a good cook, though.¡±


    ¡°You eat carrion, what do you know?¡± Cullin said.


    ¡°Apple pie. Beats carrion any day,¡± the raven said. ¡°I know that much. You ate your share, too. She even got you to smile once.¡±


    ¡°Not much of a smile.¡±


    ¡°Blew your whole stern protector face. She¡¯s not your usual old hedgewitch. Look at how the Pixies have taken to her, and fast,¡± Morvran said.


    ¡°What do Pixies know?¡± Cullin pulled his broad brimmed hat down further over his face.


    ¡°They never did take to the old hermit.¡± The raven picked at the branch he was on. ¡°He almost burned the house down one day trying to get rid of them.¡±


    Cullin snorted. ¡°Old man was a fool, and touched, too. Was glad to see him go.¡±


    ¡°One Pixie trick too many for him. That¡¯s not going to happen with Mistress Gan.¡±


    ¡°No, it¡¯s not. It¡¯s just...she reminds me of someone. Someone I used to know. There was a family, before the Great Fire. The wife was someone who would act like that. But they¡¯ve been gone a long, long time.¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t be her. She was talking about having come from Comrie.¡±


    Cullin shrugged. ¡°Everything about today has been strange. I¡¯m going to keep an eye on this one.¡±


    He took a deep breath and suddenly was gone.


    "I hate when he travels like that," Morvran said, and took to the air.


    Deep within Cullin¡¯s Forest was a stand of ancient oak trees. And just beyond that stand was a small, pleasant cottage, thatched with whitewashed walls and a garden of bright columbine and other flowers. The owner was currently out, but Cullin suddenly appeared in one of the oak trees overlooking the house with some irritation.  "Where are you, woman?"


    But eventually the indicated woman walked up the path to the cottage. She was slight of height and slim of build, with golden hair trailing behind her. There was something ethereal about her, almost a glow that could be seen in the daylight. She was lithe as a willow branch, and graceful as a swan on the water. Her dress was trailing white silk. Everything about her whispered love and care and affection ¨C except for the bag she carried on one shoulder.


    Cullin dropped out of the tree as she neared.


    ¡°So, Leila, where have you been all this time?¡±


    Leila laughed at him. ¡°Goblin Market. I needed some new books. ¡° She took an apple out of her bag and took a big bite.


    ¡°Still charming the bookseller? That¡¯s not really fair, you know.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯d never work on him. He doesn¡¯t like women, and I don¡¯t like to shapeshift to male, so no. Even love nymphs can have boundaries.¡± Her smile faded as she gave him a careful look. ¡°You¡¯re upset over something. The whole forest felt agitated as I came home. I saw the Birch Woman chasing one of the fauns with a big stick, and she never does that. She likes their leering. Something happened?¡±


    ¡°Did you stop by Pixie Hollow on your way in?¡±


    ¡°Oh, you mean Mistress Gan? Gilly the Pixie caught me on the way home. She told me all about the marvelous pies and bread.¡±


    Cullin stepped close, almost a threatening presence. ¡°You should go visit her tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°You want me to read her heart for you.¡± It was not a question.


    ¡°Just do it.¡± He turned to go. ¡°And stop reading those romance novels to the maples. They are much too dreamy to understand the difference between fantasy and what¡¯s real.¡±


    ¡°And you do?¡± Leila muttered as she opened her door.


    ¡°I heard that.¡± Cullin gave her one last stern look, and then was gone.


    ¡°Birch Woman,¡± Cullin said.


    The woman was all in white, slender, graceful. She moved with a dancer¡¯s ease and balance.


    ¡°Ah, dear Tree Shepherd, what brings you to my little corner of the world?¡±


    She pirouetted around.


    ¡°Why were you chasing Rusty the faun through the willow brakes today?¡±


    The Birch Woman stopped her dance steps and sighed. ¡°I was wondering if that¡¯s what you were dropping by for. That nasty man pinched me as I was dancing for them. Pinched me! They know they aren¡¯t supposed to touch, the dirty things.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t do that again. Come get me instead. I¡¯ll take care of it.¡±


    She dropped her eyes. ¡®I know that. I just...I...I saw red. I don¡¯t know what came over me.¡±


    He nodded, and moved on.


    Rusty the Faun lay on the ground underneath an oak tree. He was moaning, holding his head. He had a black eye, and bruises on his shoulder.


    ¡°Was it worth it?¡± Cullin asked.


    ¡°Yes!¡± the faun said. ¡°The look on her face!¡± He sat up, and moaned even louder. ¡°No. No. Oh, my head!¡±


    Shaking his head, Cullin reached into his pouch and pulled out a small vial. ¡°Drink this.¡±


    The faun reached up. ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°Water from the well of Sulis. I brought it; I didn¡¯t think you¡¯d feel like traveling there.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right.¡± He opened the vial and drank it down. Crumbling back into a ball, he gave a sharp yelp as the potion worked its magic. While Cullin watched, the black eye, the bruised on his shoulder and whatever wounding he had was gone.


    ¡°Thank you, Tree Shepherd.¡± The faun said, standing up.


    ¡°If I were you, I¡¯d stay away from Birch Woman for a few days,¡± Cullin said, and then he was gone.


    Next he stepped out into a meadow. It didn¡¯t used to be a one; the Great Fire had hammered this area, and killed all the trees. Only a few shrubs grew here now, kept small by the deer who browsed it. In the center of the meadow was a large, flat topped stone. It was a memorial stone, marking the very spot where Cullin first became the shepherd of his lands. He hopped on it, and closed his eyes. He let his thoughts slow, spread out across the forest, meadows, wet and dry spots that he was responsible for. ¡°Peace,¡± he whispered, ¡°Peace.¡±


    And as he sat, the tensions that had risen across the whole of the land slowly, slowly relaxed.

 Day 21 of the Brightening Month

    Chapter 19


    The Daughters of Charis


    People call them Nymphs, because they are beautiful and forever young looking. They are gifted with the ability to read the hearts of those around them, and, if they will, charm people with the touch of love. Some of these daughters have been accused of wanton seduction for profit, but mostly they live quiet lives as watchers over particular woodlands, mountains, streams or other locations. It is possible for them to shape shift, especially to escape uninvited attention from a suitor they have attracted.


    They are said to be fond of wine, fine clothing, and music.


    Dictionary of the Peoples of the Sunlit Lands  , by Mellt Purslaine of the Alder Branches


    The next day, Gan was still finishing her moving in, dressed in her heavy apron, work sleeves and a cap to keep things out of her hair. She had dragged the old hermit¡¯s kitchen table outside to give it a good look, and clean the years of grime off it. A touch of domestic magic had peeled back layers and layers of soot and grime, leaving the good oak wood clean and warm. She took a bottle of walnut oil and began rubbing it into the wood.


    ¡°If you just took off all the old stuff,¡± Rosebud said, why are you smearing more stuff on it?¡±


    ¡°To protect it from pixie dust, among other things,¡± Gan replied. ¡°Don¡¯t touch it yet, Moxie. The oil needs to sink in first, and you might get stuck on it while it¡¯s happening.¡±


    ¡°Oooh,¡± said the pixie, bounding away.


    ¡°What¡¯s for lunch,¡± asked Seamus.


    ¡°¡±You¡¯re hungry already? You just ate breakfast,¡± Gilly said, pulling his hair a little. ¡°Greedy man.¡±


    ¡°I just wanted to know if there was going to bread. Or pie.¡± He crossed his arms and frowned at Gilly. ¡°Are you saying I¡¯m a pig?¡±


    ¡°Oink, oink,¡± Dahlia said, floating by.


    ¡°Oh, there¡¯ll be bread. There will be bread at every meal,¡± Gan said


    There was a general cheer from the assembled pixies.


    ¡°See, I told you so!¡± Redbud said to Rufus, sticking out her tongue.


    This made Gan chuckle as she put a little more oil on her cloth. She resumed her wiping.


    Arne landed on her shoulder. ¡°We¡¯ve got company coming.¡±


    Gan looked up. ¡°Eh, I wonder who that is.¡± She gave the table a final wipe, drew a sigil in the air, and the oil hardened into a solid, dependable finish. She tossed the cloth into a bowl on the ground. ¡°Well, whoever it is, I can¡¯t get this put away before she gets here, so she¡¯ll have to put up with me in my work things.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s Leila!¡± Gilly said, dashing off to circle the woman that was coming up the path.


    ¡°Who¡¯s Leila?¡± Gan asked the pixies.


    ¡°She lives in Cullin¡¯s forest,¡± Rosebud said. ¡°She¡¯s nice.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s way nicer than Cullin,¡¯ Seamus said, nodding. ¡°And she likes pixies.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s a nymph. She can charm people,¡± Moxie said, looking at Arne. ¡°Especially men.¡±


    ¡°I wish I had hair like hers,¡± Cowslip sighed.


    ¡°She¡¯s good to tell your troubles to, especially men troubles,¡± Dahlia said.


    ¡°Sounds like you have some experience with that,¡± Gan said, sympathetically.


    Dahlia nodded, and started sinking, then caught herself right above the table.


    ¡°It¡¯s all right. The table¡¯s safe now. ¡°


    Dahlia let herself sink to the surface, and sat there cross legged. ¡°Stupid Topper.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve met him yet.¡± Gan folded her cloth and put it on the oil bottle.


    ¡°Be glad,¡± the little despondent woman said. ¡°He¡¯s not worth it.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯ll be better tomorrow, little Dahlia,¡± Leila said.


    ¡°Are you sure?¡± She looked at the beautiful woman who had joined the little group with eyes that weren¡¯t quite believing.


    ¡°Oh yes,¡± Leila said, nodding. ¡°No other pixie has his heart. He¡¯s just stupid.¡±


    That seemed to cheer the little pixie, and she took to wing. ¡°Topper is just stupid. Topper is just stupid. Topper is just stupid,¡± she sang, her tears turning into laughter as she flew into the trees.


    ¡°Well, that improved her frame of mind,¡± Gan said. ¡°So you¡¯re Leila?


    The willowy, golden-haired woman smiled. ¡°Yes I am. And you must be the wonderful lady who gave the pixies pie and bread yesterday. Word came to the forest last night. You made quite an impression.¡±


    ¡°And bread this morning, too!¡± Rosebud said.


    ¡°And soup!¡± Seamus added. ¡°Mistress Gan makes the best soup.¡±


    Leila laughed. It was a musical sound, part of her nature as a nymph, but still Gan felt herself warming to the woman. And she liked how the pixies liked her, too.


    ¡°If you give me a minute, I¡¯ll move the table back into the kitchen, and we can have a nice cup of tea.¡±


    She made a sigil in the air, and the table began to glow with a magical light. With a slight shudder at first, it lifted up, rotated itself through the doorway and back into its place in the kitchen. The glow faded as they walked in.


    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    ¡°I¡¯d heard you were an expert at Domestic magic,¡± Leila said. ¡°I can do a little of it, just like everybody else, start the fire, use it as an extra hand sometimes, but that was impressive. And with no touchstone or wand or anything.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s certainly easier than trying to find a couple of able bodies to move furniture,¡± Gan said. ¡°Far more practical.¡± Leila grinned, and let Gan lead her into the house.


    Gan pulled out her good teapot, and set out a plate of cookies.


    ¡°Sugar cookies!¡± Leila beamed. ¡°My favorite! There¡¯s a baker at Goblin Market I buy mine from. I have my talents, but alas, baking is not one of them.¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± Gan said, smiling. ¡°Try one of these. Tell me what you think.¡±


    As Gan poured the tea, Leila took and broke the cookie, and took a bite of it. Her face lit up. ¡°O my, that¡¯s wonderful. Did I taste a touch of cardamon?¡±


    Gan nodded. ¡°And ginger. But not too much.¡±


    Gilly flew around Leila¡¯s golden hair and landed on the top of her head. ¡°I told you she was wonderful.¡±


    Moxie landed by Gan¡¯s elbow. ¡°Can I have some?¡±


    She nodded and broke off a piece, and handed one to Gilly, too.


    ¡°I take it you¡¯re not affected by pixie dust,¡± Leila said.


    ¡°Not in the least,¡± Gan said. ¡°It can¡¯t glamour me or intoxicate me or even make me sneeze. Which will probably make life here much easier.¡±


    Leila laughed. ¡°I suspect so!¡± She looked around the room. You¡¯ve only been here two days?


    ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± Gan said.


    ¡°But this can¡¯t be the same place the old hermit lived in. It looks so different! And it feels...feels¡­¡±


    ¡°Like home,¡± Gilly said. ¡°The best home ever.¡±


    ¡°I am impressed,¡± the nymph said.


    ¡°So, tell me about Cullin,¡± Gan said. ¡°I grew up near here, but I moved away after the Great Fire. I was only a girl when that happened. I had met him a few times when my mother invited him to dinner, but it was my parents who knew him. They always told me he took his guardianship duties very seriously. But I suspect you know him much better.¡±


    Leila sighed, and took a bite of her cookie, ¡°I was afraid you were going to ask me that.¡±


    Gan chuckled. ¡°You don¡¯t have to tell me anything you¡¯re uncomfortable with. I¡¯m just being new neighbor nosy.¡±


    ¡°He doesn¡¯t like pixies,¡± Seamus declared. ¡°Any cookies left?¡±


    Gan broke a couple of cookies into chunks and put it on the table. ¡°Everybody can have a piece,¡± she said.


    Moxie got to the cookie crumbs first. Seamus gave her a little shove.


    ¡°There¡¯s plenty for all,¡± Gilly said, grabbing a piece. Arne grabbed her chunk. ¡°Hey!¡±


    ¡°Now, now,¡± Gan said, pulling the tea kettle off the fire and deftly pouring the boiling water into her teapot. ¡°Like Gilly says, there¡¯s plenty for all.¡±


    Leila looked at the pixies with amusement. ¡°It¡¯s not fair to say he doesn¡¯t like pixies, Seamus,¡± she said after each of the pixies got their cookies. ¡°Does he let you fly in the forest?¡±


    ¡°Well...¡± the pixie said.


    ¡°Does he throw mud at you?¡± the nymph asked.


    ¡°I got splashed once, ¡° Hilby, a freckled redhead pixie said. ¡°The smell took a month to get off.¡±


    ¡°But you weren¡¯t the target.¡±


    ¡°Nope, it was a peddler.¡±


    Gan poured the tea into fine china cups while admiring how Leila was leading the pixies along.


    Leila accepted the offered cup. ¡°I think he sees you pixies like he does the wood wives. Just there, with as much right to be there as a butterfly or dragonfly.¡±


    ¡°You mean,¡± Gilly said, ¡°he doesn¡¯t even see us?¡± She frowned. ¡°He ought to see us. We¡¯re all beautiful!¡± She lifted from the table and did a pirouette, sprinkling light-catching pixie dust behind her. It gave her an ethereal radiance for a moment, before fading.


    ¡°Show off,¡± mumbled Rosebud.


    ¡°Oh, he sees you well enough,¡± Leila said, holding out her hand. ¡°That was quite lovely.¡± Gilly landed on the nymph¡¯s palm and took a bow before dashing off. ¡°He might even admire something you¡¯re doing. But he¡¯s focused on other things.¡±


    ¡°Like protecting the forest from people and things that can harm it,¡± Gan said. She took the moment to get a cookie for herself.


    ¡°Exactly,¡± Leila said. She broke a cookie in half, and dipped it in her tea. In her hands, it looked like an exquisitely gracious move. ¡°After the Great Fire, he grew increasingly protective, maybe even suspicious of all people who didn¡¯t live in the forest. The fire wasn¡¯t natural; some charcoal burners, I believe, lost control of their burn, and it spread like mad. After that, he kept an extra sharp eye out on everybody who went down the King¡¯s Highway through the forest. He would mud or scare anybody who he even thought might trespass. Piter the peddler, poor man, got more than his fair share of hazing, so much that the magistrate down at Waterford by Glint sends a man once a month down the road to remind him of the right of travelers to pass unmolested.¡±


    ¡°The fire was hard on a lot of us,¡± Gan said.


    ¡°Indeed. And he¡¯s very old. He was here long before I was born.¡±


    Gan nodded. ¡°Or my parents.¡±


    ¡°New things can set him off-balance for a little while.¡± Leila sipped her tea.


    Gan nodded. ¡°He certainly was surprised when I made him sit down for dinner.¡±


    ¡°It had been a long time since anybody had done that. The old hermit certainly didn¡¯t. He was scared to death of Cullin.¡±


    ¡°He was scared of me, too,¡± Bu said. ¡°But look how little I am! Cullin¡¯s much bigger.¡±


    ¡°People get frightened by all sorts of things,¡± Gan said. ¡°Sometimes it doesn¡¯t matter how big a thing is.¡±


    Moxie eyed the last piece of cookie, then shook her head, eating the one in her hand. ¡°Tree Shepherd didn¡¯t say much while he ate.¡±


    ¡°The raven said enough for both of them,¡± Seamus said. ¡°I thought he was going to eat me.¡±


    ¡°Morvran? No, he wouldn¡¯t eat you,¡± Leila said ¡°But I wouldn¡¯t tease him too much if I were you, Seamus. There are worse fates for those who get on Morvran¡¯s bad side.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡±


    ¡°He might talk you to death.¡±


    The two women talked a while longer. Leila found out that Gan liked a good novel, too, and after making a promise to exchange books , she headed back to her forest home.


    <hr>


    Umber Madrona put down his clipboard, and headed to the lunch room at the back of the Dragon Web offices. He found an empty corner at the back, somewhat hidden from the main area, snuggled between a cabinet where people stored their supplies and the wall. There was a tiny window that looked out to the wooded land that surrounded the station, but the young dragonkin man intentionally turned his back to it. He did not like the look of the land surrounding Goblin Market. It was too different from the land where he grew up ¨C too soft, too damp, too green. Looking out of the window reminded him of all the differences, and how disappointed he was in his work here.


    He pulled out a book, laid out his lunch and settled down to read.


    ¡°Hi,¡± a woman¡¯s voice said. ¡°Do you mind if I sit here, too?¡±


    He looked up and saw a pale blue Dragonkin woman standing in front of him. Her ruff was slightly darker than the rest of her skin, perfectly normal, and she looked at him expectantly.


    ¡°Sure. Go ahead,¡± he said, nodding.


    She gracefully sat down and laid out her lunch ¨C soup, a salad, some sort of cake. ¡°So you¡¯re the new person at DIC? I¡¯m Lana. Been here about a year now. It¡¯s sure a lot different than Sunderland.¡±


    ¡°You work at the ticket counter?¡± Umber said, laying his book down. ¡°I¡¯m Umber by the way. I¡¯m from Harani.¡±


    ¡°I bet all of this feels weird to you,¡± she said, taking a bite of her salad. ¡°I know it did for me for almost a year.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s so different. How...did you ever get used to it?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know if used to it is the right phrase,¡± Lana said. ¡°Tolerate it may be more honest. Goblin Market¡¯s not the worst small town in An Lar. And it¡¯s only a short hop to Waterford by Glint, where there are more people and things to do. And to the north, there¡¯s a really nice place with some wonderful craggy rocks and no trees! I go up there a lot on my days off. It means a lot to me just to see rock from time to time.¡±


    ¡°You need to tell me how to get there,¡± Umber said, munching on his meat roll. ¡°It feels like forever since I saw anything but trees and grass.¡±


    Lana nodded. ¡°And,¡± she said, pointing at his novel, ¡°there¡¯s a really good bookstore in town. If he doesn¡¯t have what you want to read, he¡¯ll order it in. I¡¯ve bought a lot from him. You¡¯re reading one of Rockbottom¡¯s detective novels? I love them.¡±


    He nodded. ¡°I¡¯ve read all of them. This is his latest. I¡¯ll loan it to you when I¡¯m done if you¡¯d like?¡±


    Her ruff blushed a pleasant dark blue. ¡°Oh! Yes I would. I¡¯ve been waiting for that book for months!¡±


    They both finished their lunch with a little more chitchat, then Umber headed back to his office with the first good feeling he¡¯d had since coming to work at Goblin Market.


    As he opened the door to the office, he said, ¡°Maybe I can make it through my first assignment in one piece after all.¡±


    As he walked in, Thornfield Witstone, his spikes glowing with displeasure, blocked his entrance.


    ¡°Umber, you fool, what in the melted ruins of Dragonhame did you tell Mayor Turbot¡¯s wife? I¡¯ve got the Dragon Web director and everyone that matters breathing down my neck now, and I don¡¯t like it one bit!¡±


    Umber swallowed. Or maybe he wouldn¡¯t.

 Day 21 of the Brightening Month (Continued)

    Chapter 20


    Into the water, in you go


    Whiter than sunlight, white as snow


    Soap and suds, suds and soap


    Make you better than newborn hope


    On the board I rub and scrub


    Up and down inside the tub


    Beat you cleaner than the snow,


    Up and down is how you¡¯ll go.


    All the dirt goes swish and swish


    Swimming in water just like a fish


    Then twisted be, your cloth I¡¯ll wring


    The wetness runs into the spring.


    Let¡¯s hang you, hang you, hang you high


    Your cleanness shining to the sky


    Come now, Sun, and dry all fine


    That dances on my clothes line.


    ¡°Laundry Song¡± traditional among the Moss people, collected by Meaves Goldstone of the Alder Branches, published in Songs of the Sunlit Lands


    The Dragon Web office in Greenholt on the White Isle wasn¡¯t quite as busy as the one in Comrie. Only a few customers, either travelers or people who had come by to check their messages went through the ornate doors while Gwenyth Allyns and her daughter Arriane walked up the tree-lined street to its building. A cheerful-faced woman, sorting to a handful of messages waved to them as they reached the doors. A bored porter sat on the pavement in front of of the gray stone, took a glance at the two women, and seeing Arriane only carrying a single bag, chose not to move.


    ¡°So the Oldest is letting you out of classes for as long as you need?¡± Gwenyth asked her daughter.


    Arriane stopped walking and turned to face her mother. ¡°I¡¯m not a regular student, Mother. It¡¯s more like I¡¯m an intern. Me taking some time off is not a real issue, and the Oldest told me to take as much time as needed.¡±


    A female Leannan Si, golden hair spilling almost to the ground and dressed in the formal gear of the Willow Leaves school, stepped out of the Dragon Web office, and motioned to the Spriggan porter, who almost reluctantly, got up followed her inside.


    ¡°If you say so, Daughter. I never really understood the workings of the White Circle, outside of the fact they train the Magic Guard. Forgive your mother, but I¡¯ve been afraid you would go into the Guard all this time.¡± She shuddered. ¡°I¡¯ve known some people who spent time in the Guard. It does something to them if they stay in the service too long. Too much magic, too much destruction ¨C I¡¯m not sure what does it, but it withers them.¡±


    Arriane gave her mother a gentle smile and took her hand. ¡°You don¡¯t have to worry about that, Mother. The Oldest told me my first year studying with her that my skills aren¡¯t right for that line of service. You can quit fretting.¡± She shook her head. ¡°I¡¯m not made to be a warrior, either by sword or spell. There¡¯s only one warrior in our family, and that is Gweir, not me.¡±


    Gwenyth, breathing a sigh of relief, nodded. ¡°One warrior is enough. That is happy news for me. Do you remember your aunt Sylphie?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Arriane said. ¡°I know you¡¯ve mentioned her before, and you told me I met her when I was quite young, but I can¡¯t remember her.¡±


    A small child ran up the walk towards the front doors of the building, followed quickly by her nursemaid. ¡°Slow down, Mara!¡± the nursemaid said. ¡°We have to wait for your mother!¡±


    A slightly older Daoine couple walked up, laughing at the enthusiasm of their child. Gwenyth and Arriane moved to one side of the path, taking shelter by one of the old oak trees that lined the way.


    ¡°I told you I knew some of the people who had been in the Magic Guard. One of those people was Sylphie, my sister. I saw how she changed over the years. In the end, she couldn¡¯t cope with being around anything or anybody that triggered memories of her time in the service, and left to join the sisters on the Isle of Zaara. I hear she is finally at peace. I hope so, but living like a hermit on that barren place is a heavy price to pay ¨C giving up family and friends and all because everything was just too painful. All I could think when you went to the White Circle for training is her face on the day she announced she was leaving us. I didn¡¯t want that to happen to you.¡±


    ¡°And it won¡¯t,¡± Arriane said. ¡°So you can relax.¡±


    Gyneth nodded, and rested her hand on the bark of the old tree. ¡°That gives me so much relief.¡±


    Arriane rested her hand over the hand of her mother. ¡°You could come, too,¡± she said.


    ¡°I wish. They¡¯ve dumped so much work on my desk the last few weeks.¡±


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ¡°You¡¯re not the only person at the Alder Branches who can work, you know.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± Gyneth said.


    Just then, a young man with a long braided queue carrying a bag full of papers spotted them, and hurried up. ¡°Lady Gyneth! I was hoping I¡¯d find you here. Ishmaia just sent over the report you¡­¡±


    Gyneth waved him quiet. ¡°Give me a few minutes, Raen. Then you can tell me all about it.¡±


    Raen nodded, and took several steps back.


    ¡°So you see how it goes sometimes, daughter,¡± Gyneth said. ¡°I can¡¯t even take a walk without having to discuss this, sign that, decide something else.¡± She took a step away from the tree. ¡°So you go visit your sister and tell me all the latest when you get back. Tell Elaine that I really will try to visit before Midsummer. I know she wanted us both to come but with everything going on and the conference next month...¡± she said, her words sounding slightly guilty, but her body signalling anxiousness to get away.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure she understands, Mother,¡± Arriane said, nodding. ¡°I¡¯ll send you a message when I get to Goblin Market, and then another after I get settled in back at Allynswood.¡±


    ¡°Good, good, do that. You may think you¡¯re all grown up, but I still fret,¡± the older woman said. She handed a neatly wrapped bundle to her daughter. ¡°Don¡¯t open this until you get home. In fact, let Elaine open it. It¡¯s a surprise for her.¡±


    ¡°What is it?¡± Arriane asked.


    ¡°You¡¯ll see when you get there. When you send me word from Allynswood, tell me how Elaine reacted.¡± She bent forward slightly and kissed her daughter on the forehead. ¡°Have a good time while you¡¯re at home. Don¡¯t let Edelkyn boss you around too much.¡±


    ¡°Heh, Edelkyn still bosses you around when you go home, Mother. What makes you think Nannie will let me get by?¡±


    ¡°She was my nanny, too, so now you know how she gets away with it.¡± Somewhere, nearby, a clock tower rang the hour and Raen politely coughed. ¡° I¡¯m sorry, Arriane, but I have to rush. We¡¯re having a staff meeting in about ten minutes, and I¡¯ll probably be late as it is. That stupid convention is going to drive me crazy before it even starts.¡±


    ¡°Then go, Mother,¡± Arriane said. ¡°I¡¯ll be all right.¡±


    Gyneth nodded and joined the young man waiting for her, and started to walk off, but turned once, and waved. Waving back, Arriane headed into the Dragon Web station.


    <hr>


    The day progressed into early afternoon.


    Cullin had been patrolling his forest with Morvran trailing along, trying to keep the nosy raven away from Gan and Leila, but as the shadows lengthened, he used the magic that allowed him to travel anywhere in his forest almost instantaneously, stepping out of the shadows, then climbed up the old oak tree overlooking the yard in front of Leila¡¯s house. He found his favorite branch, and made himself comfortable. It was for the moment a busy place.


    Leila was sitting on a bench in front of her little house reading one of her endless stream of romance novels. While she read, Su, Lu, and Du, three of the diminutive Moss People, each only about three feet tall, wearing caps and work sleeves and aprons, were hard at work at Leila¡¯s laundry. They were almost the opposite of the nymph, short and squat, with protruding ears and huge noses.


    Where she was graceful, they were clunky, big headed and squat, but Cullin had to admit they could be hard workers. Su, standing in front of a tub of water, was carefully wetting each piece of laundry, be it towel, sheet or garment one at a time, then soaping them with a broad dollop of soft soap, being sure to treat stubborn spots before handing them to Lu. Lu, in turn scrubbed each piece in a second tub on a huge washboard, and Du, standing next to a third tub, rinsed and wrung each piece out and hung it on a long line which was strung in the one section of the clearing that got bright sunlight. Next to it, a whole other line was already filled with linen dripping in the breeze


    ¡°So much pixie dust!¡± Su said, with a disappointed frown as she handled the clothes Leila had worn to Gan¡¯s house. ¡°How could you let that beautiful dress get so dusty?¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t go to Pixie Hollow and not get some dust,¡± she told the little woman.


    The little woman rubbed her oversized nose. ¡°It makes my nose itch!¡±


    ¡°And what I had to do to convince the Spider women to make that silk,¡± Lu said, shaking her head. ¡°And you got tea on it!¡±


    ¡°Ah, the Spider women. They did such a beautiful job, too, with the cloth,¡± Leila said, amused at the scolding. "It¡¯s one of my favorite dresses,¡± Leila said, turning the page. ¡°That¡¯s why I wore it. I couldn¡¯t help it if Seamus pushed Gilly into my teacup. Be glad you have the magic that lets you treat silk like linen. At least you won¡¯t have to unstitch it, tack the panels on boards to dry, and resew it like I would have had to do.¡±


    ¡°Pixies. That¡¯s what happens when you share your meals with those flying pests,¡± Du said, wringing out a towel. ¡°My ma always warmed me of that. No good ever comes from it, she told me.¡±


    Cullin coughed.


    The Moss women looked up, and immediately dropped their laundry and bowed in Cullin¡¯s direction.


    ¡°Greetings, Lord Cullin,¡± said Su.


    ¡°Is there any task we can do for you today?¡± said Lu.


    ¡°We are always ready to serve,¡± said Du.


    ¡°I think your hands are full right now,¡± Cullin said. ¡°I stopped by to speak with Leila.¡±


    ¡°Shall we leave?¡± asked Su.


    ¡°No, no,¡± Leila said. ¡°Just keep working at the laundry. I¡¯ll go with Master Cullin.¡± She marked her page, put the book down, and stood up. ¡°It¡¯s a perfect day to walk the Overlook.¡±


    ¡°Lovely choice,¡± said Lu. She went back to scrubbing on her washboard.


    Cullin dropped out of the tree as she neared. ¡°The Overlook?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve always found it a soothing view. And it¡¯s hard for Morvran to sneak up on. He likes to talk too much when I¡¯m reading.¡±


    ¡°He likes to talk too much, period,¡± Cullin offered the nymph his hand. She took it.


    ¡°But you¡¯d be lonely if he didn¡¯t,¡± Leila said.


    He snorted, then invoking his magic, they were gone.


    The Overlook was a comfortably rise of rock that overlooked the river Glint. It gave a lovely view of Cullin¡¯s ridge, the forest, and the river. To the north was an easy path to the rise. On the river side and the south were steep rock faces. The west slope was climbable, but still rather steep. It was granite, mostly, and although some low growing plants had managed to make a living there, and would bloom gorgeously at certain times of the year, no trees at all grew near the top.


    The couple appeared in the middle of it, near a natural seat of rock.


    ¡°So this is where you wanted to go?¡± Cullin said.


    ¡°It seemed like a good place. You know what bad gossips the Wood Wives are.¡± She sat down. ¡°And who knows when Morvran would show up.¡±


    ¡°He does have that knack.¡± Cullin nodded. ¡°Especially if there¡¯s anything to mock. So you went to Pixie Hollow?¡±


    ¡°Just like you asked,¡± the nymph said. ¡°Mistress Gan makes very good cookies. The pixies and I had quite a cookie feast.¡±


    ¡°A cookie feast,¡± Cullin said, adjusting his cap. ¡°And?¡±


    ¡°Well, she was curious about you. Evidently she had met you as a child before the Great Fire. Her parents were one of the families who moved out after the disaster.¡±


    ¡°Well, that explains why she knew about me,¡± Cullin said. ¡°Wonder who her parents were? She reminds me of a woman I knew back then.¡±


    ¡°She has a very kind heart, and has had a bad experience recently. I didn¡¯t get the details, but she¡¯s echoing with loss.¡±


    The Tree Shepherd shrugged. ¡°Who else would take on Pixie Hollow? That old hermit was trying to escape his past, too. What I want to know is if she will cause a problem.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s no threat to you or the forest, my good Tree Shepherd, but she might be a friend. The old hermit was never that.¡±


    ¡°Friends,¡± he snorted. ¡°Who¡¯s got time for that?¡±


    ¡°Lonely souls sometimes call to each other. Also, she likes romance stories. She offered me one of hers. It¡¯s quite good.¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t charm her out of it, did you?¡±


    ¡°Of course not. I promised to drop by tomorrow with one of mine in trade. We readers, we know what¡¯s right.¡± Leila smiled. ¡°Gan is like a breath of fresh air around here. I expect changes. Good ones. Get ready for them.¡±


    Cullin gave her an odd look, somewhere between discomfort, curiosity and anticipation, tugged on the brim of his wide brimmed hat, and nodded.

 Day 21 of the Brightening Month (Continued 2)

    Chapter 21


    Shortly after the Sundering, it became clear that even after all the fighting between the Shadow Lands and the Sunlit Lands, that both sides needed things that only one side or the other could produce. The most important of these were put on official permitted trade lists. The negotiations were long and arduous, and didn¡¯t fully satisfy the needs of either side. Jason Redbeard of the Bullrushes approached Queen Sulis with a proposal: allow the Bullrush Clan full autonomy in the lands surrounding the Borderlands near the portal of what would later be called Greshom¡¯s Hold, and his people would control the comings and goings of all the goods going both directions. She agreed; soon this would allow for the development of a sanctioned black market that satisfied both realms. It also allowed for the gathering of intelligence that helped keep the peace. Everyone was content until the Breakout that attacked and wiped out the town of Brightwater. The most recent head of the Bullrushes, Jared Redbeard was suspected of cutting a deal with Queen Bercha, leader of the Wild Hunt that went sour and lead to the Breakout, but there was never enough evidence to prosecute.


    A Brief History of the Borderlands, by Reban Greenshire of the Alder Branches


    Umber Madrona, still smarting from the chewing out his boss had given him earlier in the day, was sitting outside in the shadows of the Dragon Web station, waiting for the next freight arrival. There were a couple of wagons waiting to pick up whatever was supposed to arrive on it, and three that were waiting to ship, but he had already checked their manifests and collected their fees, so for the moment, he had nothing to do but wait himself.


    Picking at a small weed pushing through the pavement next to the building wall, he twirled it in his fingers. ¡°No way I¡¯m going to go sit in that office with Thornfield after he chewed me out after lunch. How did I know that woman with the undocumented Shadowlands vase was the Mayor¡¯s wife? You transport one of those over the Dragon Web, you¡¯re supposed to have the import papers with you. Even if you¡¯re just taking it to the next town over. Those things are smuggled all the time! How was I supposed to know she had sent the papers ahead in a message pouch? Of course I confiscated it! That¡¯s what the rules said to do! Uncle, why did you have me sent here to this Lifegiver-forsaken town?¡±


    He rested his head against the stone wall and closed his eyes. So wrapped up in his personal unhappiness he didn¡¯t hear the soft footsteps walking up towards him.


    ¡°Bad day?¡± said a soft female voice.


    Umber sat up, opened his eyes, and tossed the weed he was still holding to the side. A blonde Daoine woman, her blue eyes looking at him with a gentle concern, half squatted next to him.


    Umber covered his face with his hands, and took a deep breath. ¡°You heard me, didn¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t feel too bad. I¡¯ve done the same type of thing, and been caught while I was letting off steam, too.¡± Her smile was kind. Sticking her hand into a small bag, she pulled out a small wrapped sweet. ¡°The last time someone found me like this, that someone handed me a sweet cake. I thought you might benefit from one as well. Take it. My mother made them last night to take with me on my trip. They¡¯re my favorite, flavored with ginger and honey.¡±


    Umber took it, and stared at the small packet for a moment, almost in a daze that someone was willing to be nice to him, then slowly stood up and faced the woman, who also stood up.


    ¡°You...you were traveling here?¡± Umber asked. ¡°To Goblin Market?¡± His voice incredulous, as if shocked someone would actually choose to visit the town. ¡°Why?¡±


    Arriane giggled. ¡°You¡¯re Dragonkin. I bet you grew up somewhere rocky and dry.¡±


    ¡°Harani,¡± he admitted, nodding. ¡°Before coming here, I had only been there and to Sunderland. It¡¯s so different there. There¡¯s not a lot of trees, and after the rains, the grasses go brown. There¡¯s lots of rock formations, and mountains, really big mountains nearby. I didn¡¯t know how I¡¯d miss it when I joined the DIC.¡±


    Arriane raised an eyebrow at the mention of DIC, but it didn¡¯t stop her from talking. ¡°As for the why I came here, my family owns a large estate nearby. I grew up there. Funny you mention Harani. My father is living in the Gray Mountains, at Bluestone Retreat. Mother tells me he¡¯s writing a history book.¡± A shadow quickly moved over her face, to be quickly replaced by her welcoming smile.


    ¡°That is a pretty place,¡± Umber said, nodding. Then a thought struck him. ¡°Ah, you wouldn¡¯t happen to be one of the Allyns, would you?¡±


    ¡°Guilty as charged,¡± Arriane said, giving him a nod. ¡°I just got here from the White Island. My sister Elaine is supposed to be picking me up, any time now. But I heard you talking, and had to see what was going on.¡±


    ¡°I feel pretty embarrassed about that,¡± Umber said, dropping his head to his chin. ¡°It¡¯s been a rough day. First assignments for DIC people are designed to train and wash out people.¡±


    Arriane looked at his steadily for a moment. ¡°You¡¯ll make it,¡± she said. ¡°I just have that feeling.¡±


    Umber sighed. ¡°I hope you¡¯re right. There are times I¡¯m not so sure.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s move to the front,¡± Arriane said. ¡°I need to keep an eye out for my sister.¡±


    The two of them strolled around to the front of the station. There was still no sign of Arriane¡¯s ride.


    ¡°I saw your sister here not long ago. She was with another woman, not a Daoine. They were talking with the mayor for a moment. I don¡¯t know if I care for him.¡±


    ¡°Ah, that¡¯s with Elaine¡¯s friend Gan Thistleberry. She was moving onto the estate. I suspect she¡¯s here by now.¡± Arriane watched a mother and child come out of the Dragon Web office. The child was hugging a large doll and tugging the Bauchan woman¡¯s hand.


    ¡°Triss, calm down!¡± the woman said.


    ¡°But I want to show Daddy!¡± she said.


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    The two walked off.


    ¡°She came through yesterday, I think. She was driving a well-packed ox cart.¡± Umber said.


    ¡°I remember my sister telling me something about Gan driving herself to her new place.¡± Arriane turned and looked at Umber thoughtfully once again. ¡°You notice things, don¡¯t you. And remember them.¡±


    Umber shrugged. ¡°DIC training, I guess. And I come from an investigator family. Might be something I come by naturally.¡±


    ¡°Sounds like a useful skill,¡± Arriane said.


    ¡°If I can tough it out this year.¡±


    ¡°Pay attention to what people are saying, not just what they¡¯re doing or what they look like. You¡¯ll learn all sorts of things that way.¡±


    ¡°Maybe you¡¯re right. I¡¯m still feeling out the difference between how they trained me and what the world really expects.¡±


    ¡°Me too!¡± Arriane said. ¡°I want to know why it feels so hard sometimes. Why won¡¯t the world let us be the people we want to be without fighting for it?¡±


    ¡°If I figure it out, I¡¯ll tell you first,¡± the young dragonkin said.


    A carriage drove up.


    ¡°That¡¯s my ride,¡± the young woman said. ¡°It was good talking with you, Umber. I hope your first year goes better from now on. I¡¯ll try to drop by to say hello before I go home.¡±


    She waved, and headed towards the carriage driven by the same red-headed young Bauchan that had been driving when Elaine and her friend had been here last. He returned her wave, and hearing the bell that announced the next freight carriage, he turned and went back to the freight door. Somehow, though, Umber felt more light and at peace than he had felt in a long time. It might have been the effect of Arriane¡¯s Daoine magic, but he didn¡¯t care. Unwrapping the little sweet she had given him, he bit down on the sweet gingery taste and went back to work.


    <hr>


    On Ynys Afel, in the great military compound that houses the King¡¯s Guard and the other branches of the defensive forces, there is a special training field, only available to officers of high standing and the orderlies who care for the grounds and their officers. Surrounded by windowless walls, one section of the grounds is for sparing; another has training dummies and other gear. A small repair shop hugged one wall to take care of equipment issues, next to a small armory of gear to try out. At the other end of the field is a shooting range for both archery and spear, with dummies in the shape of persons, animals and traditional circle targets.


    Usually there are a small group of privileged officers working out, surrounded by their attendants and sparring partners, tending to their gear, helping them with their equipment, sometimes cheering them on. This afternoon, there were only two. Their attendees, in full military dress, stood at a respectful distance, not just for safety, but to also be out of earshot.


    The two of them stood facing each other, both wearing light chain armor, helmets, and holding sword and shield.


    The taller of the two, angry-eyed, blond of hair and muscular of build, dressed in the green and brown colors of the regular King¡¯s Guard,, gave a wicked smile to his sparring partner, shorter and darker of hair. ¡°Had enough beat down for the day, Bedwyr?¡±


    ¡°I never claimed to be able to stand up to you in a one on one, Hawk. There are reasons you are leader of the King¡¯s Guard and not me.¡± He walked over to a rack, and put up his practice sword and shield. ¡°I only train to keep my skills up, and I train with you because you are better than me.¡±


    Hawk gave him a nod of acknowledgment, put up his gear, then went over to a table, grabbed a towel to wipe down his face, and took a cup of water from the water jug there. ¡°So now what?¡±


    ¡°Time for the bow, I think,¡± Bedwyr said. ¡°Been a while since I saw how well you hit the target.¡±


    Hawk rolled his eyes.


    Together, the two men walked over to the archery range, picking up their gear from the table and rack. The orderlies carefully moved to their safety positions and waited for the men to begin.


    ¡°Which target shall we start with?¡± Hawk asked.


    ¡°Let¡¯s just start with the round. It¡¯s a good warmup.¡±


    Putting on his arm guard and shooting glove, Hawk picked out a bow and quiver, strung the bow, then took his stance at the mark and carefully sighted the target. He released the bowstring and the arrow flew through the air to puncture the target with a solid thunk.


    ¡°Not bad, Gwalch,¡± Bedwyr said ¡°Take another shot.¡±


    The Hawk aimed again, and shot. This time he hit the bullseye.


    ¡°Your eye is as good as ever,¡± said Bedwyr, with a nod.


    ¡°Eye, hand or strength of arm, whichever it is, Bedwyr. Not my favorite weapon though. A real warrior fights close.¡±


    ¡°Easy enough for you to say, Hawk. We all know how you love your sword and shield. But sometimes that¡¯s not the way to win. Sometimes it¡¯s a word placed in the right ear, a knife in the right back.¡± Bedwyr lifted his own bow, and shot an arrow that split the Hawk¡¯s arrow. ¡°And sometimes it¡¯s an arrow in the right throat.¡±


    ¡°Bah. No honor in that,¡± the Hawk said, frowning.


    ¡°It¡¯s not about honor. It¡¯s about preserving the peace, keeping the land hale and whole, keeping our enemies at bay. And sometimes, the right answer is an army filled with good men with swords, I won¡¯t deny it.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s why The Bear and the Oldest put me in charge of the King¡¯s Guard. And why they put you in charge of...well, whatever you want to call what you do.¡±


    Bedwyr snorted. ¡°I call it the King¡¯s Special Services. I have heard it called other names. Birch¡¯s Specters, among others.¡±


    Hawk shot another arrow. It landed just to the right of his first shot. ¡°I won¡¯t say your people haven¡¯t done right by Ynys Afel. I¡¯m just too straightforward for your twisty-turny ways. I don¡¯t even see some of the things coming that you¡¯ve put in your reports.¡±


    ¡°The Life-giver has given us each our own gifts, Hawk. The troops would follow you to the Tower of Ru and swarm the Dark Queen herself for you.¡± He raised his bow, and landed an arrow to the left of Hawk¡¯s first shot. ¡°Note the pattern we¡¯re shooting. You and me, covering the gap. I have your flank and you have mine. Together, we make a wall of protection. I think I¡¯ve seen enough of your archery to know you can still handle it.¡±


    Hawk looked at Birch, his eyes narrowing. ¡°Is something up? You only talk this way when you¡¯re tensing up about something on the edge of happening.¡±


    ¡°Eh,¡± Bedwyr shrugged. ¡°There¡¯s always something up.¡±


    ¡°But not something that makes you talk like this. I figured something was up after you commandeered men from my units to pump up yours. Are you finished with that? I¡¯d really like to reinforce the troops at Greshold¡¯s Keep if you¡¯ve got worries, but I don¡¯t want you to keep draining off my most promising young officers.¡±


    ¡°A good idea, Hawk. Greshold¡¯s Keep is always on the very front of things.¡± Bedwyr hung up his bow on the rack provided, and began to take of his arm guard. ¡°I think I have enough trainees with the latest batch. You can relax a bit.¡±


    ¡°Relax, you say. Watching you here today tells something in my gut it¡¯s not time for relaxing. So you know something?¡± Hawk said, unstringing his bow. ¡°Something not in the official reports? Something besides the uptick in smuggling?¡±


    ¡°Maybe. It¡¯s not something I can put into a report yet. I know the Dragonkin are on edge about something. There¡¯s a lot of chatter coming from that direction.¡±


    ¡°When aren¡¯t they? When your whole people¡¯s way of life is to cut each other¡¯s throat for another handful of gold¡­¡± He looked up at Bedwyr, and studied the look the other gave him. ¡°So it¡¯s more than their usual?¡±


    ¡°I think so. I¡¯m still sifting through the rumors. And Jared Redbeard has been feeding us more tips than normal.¡±


    ¡°What? That old bag of greed? Is he purging his stable of pet smugglers?¡± Hawk stripped off his shooting glove. ¡°I know what he does is important, but I¡¯ll never understand why the Bear tolerates him. If were up to me¡­¡±


    ¡°If it were up to you, we¡¯d lose our one good channel to the Shadowlands. And we¡¯d have to have endless rounds of negotiations to let through those things we just think aren¡¯t worth the trouble. And we¡¯d still have smuggling, and with no way to control any of it.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re probably right. Still glad it¡¯s your headache and not mine.¡±


    ¡°Headache it is. Anyway, the Oldest has summoned me to a meeting tomorrow. Maybe I¡¯ll learn more there. Maybe there¡¯ll even be something you should know to get ready for.¡±


    Hawk took a deep breath. ¡°I hate all this shadowy stuff. Let me know when you have something you can actually tell me.¡± He gave him a small wave. ¡°Thanks for the workout. Until I hear from you.¡±


    He headed out of the training grounds.

 Day 27 of the Brightening Month

    Chapter 22


    Think of each piece of evidence like a part of a puzzle. It is your job as investigator to sort through the puzzle pieces. At times you will find large gaps ¨C this means you don¡¯t have enough pieces, and your investigation may have to focus on gathering more to get the puzzle to fit together. Other times, you will find some of what you collected as evidence is not evidence at all. You will have to go back through your material and see where the puzzle takes shape if you eliminate it.


    There is very seldom a speedy solution to a complicated puzzle or investigation case. Watch, wait, sort, hunt for more information. Our slogan is ¡®we never stop investigating.¡¯ And we don¡¯t. Eventually the puzzle will make itself known, no matter how long it takes.


    DIC Operations Manual


    Violetta Greenleaf found herself once again.


    This had been happening from time to time, where she rose up out of the dark warmth, not exactly sleep, where she knew nothing, not even thought, to become aware. But even this place was too dreamlike to be real. Things that would never happen in the world she knew took place, like finding notes that directed her where she should go next, blue rabbits having long interesting conversations with her about the scent of flowers in the plan of the Lifegiver took place, and the sky overhead would sometimes shimmer like water. Oddly, she never questioned why, only that she needed to do it.


    This time, she found herself wandering down a path through the rocks. It was red rock country, harsh and dry. A lizard in dusky brown scales bolted out of the shadows then turned to look at her. It flashed an intense, electric blue. ¡°Prepare yourself,¡± it said, then darted off into the shadows.


    She continued walking. The sky shimmered, almost like the ripples on the surface of a lake, caught by the faintest breeze. Even though it was sunny and bright, her mind began to fill with a sense of unease, not quite dread, but like the foreknowledge that something unpleasant was ahead.


    A spider crawled across the trail. It began to glow bright red and slowly grew large as a dog. Halfway across the trail it stopped, raised its two front legs and met her eyes with its multiple ones, growing with a bright blue light.


    ¡°I am sorry, woman of the Daoine, that I bit you and caused you to need to come to this realm,¡± the spider said. Its voice was light and whispery. ¡°They tell me you are destined for important things, and the Mother of all Spiders has told me I must let my hold on you go to fulfill that destiny. Our meeting was just an accident and I bit on reflex. Having no personal grudge against you, I renounce my bite. Leave with my blessing.¡±


    The path rounded a bend. The canyon she had been walking through widened, and the landscape slowly changed. Dryland scrub began to grow. She saw a rabbit nibbling on a branch. ¡°Keep walking,¡± it said, then bounded away.


    Ahead she heard water, not loud as a waterfall, but a small trickle, like in a little fountain. She could feel a change in moisture as well. The brush gave way to dryland trees, then grew thicker. A large bird, black in the sky circled over her, then slowly gyred overhead.


    ¡°Find the Oak,¡± it cawed, then climbed higher and flew off.


    In some ways, the path she was walking seemed to stretch out forever, or perhaps it was that with each step she was walking, her speed was slowing down. After a time she was sure of it, that she was walking slower and slower, like if the air was growing thicker, heavier. There was no wind pushing against her, but it began to feel like she was walking into a strong storm wind.


    A butterfly flitted by, obviously unaffected by whatever was slowing down as it darted through a stand of daisies. As she neared, it paused, then landed on her shoulder. ¡°You are near the oak. Keep going, no matter how hard it feels.¡± Then it flew off.


    Violetta took four more steps, each one harder than the one before, her head bowed, looking at her feet.


    ¡°Look up, child,¡± a warm voice said.


    She looked up as directed. In front of her was a huge, ancient oak tree. Next to it a small fountain played, splashing water that ran off, filled a basin and made a rivulet that ran off into the distance. As she stood there, the trunk of the oak shimmered, and out of it stepped a woman of fiery red hair. Her garments wrapped around her in an unseen breeze like a robe of smoke. She took Violetta¡¯s hand. Her touch was soothing, warm, and solid, more solid than anything else Violetta had touched in this landscape.


    ¡°They are calling you home, child. I was glad to hold you to my bosom while you healed, but now, it is time to start the hard work of what the Lifegiver has called you to do.¡± She rested warm fingers over Violetta¡¯s eyes. ¡°Go with my blessing.¡±


    Suddenly she felt like she was falling, down, down, down. With a jerk, she landed and opened her eyes, only to see Xhandi¡¯s concerned face, and a jinn woman dressed all in white.


    The woman, who was holding her hand released it. ¡°Welcome back.¡±


    <hr>


    Lady Elaine had made an arrangement with Gan to give her some time to settle in before dropping by to see how she was doing. This day was day seven, and to be honest, Gan was surprised she had stayed away so long, but was glad she had. The last few days had been an interesting experience. Learning to bake bread while surrounded by a cloud of curious onlookers who would get coated in flour and dust the kitchen was an adventure in itself, and the Pixie interest had brought pie-making to an entire new level.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    Somehow it scratched the itch that not having a school full of younger students to care for had left in her with. And as long as they were there, she could never be lonely.


    As Gan made herself at home, so did her animals. Freed from pulling Gan¡¯s wagon, the cows had found the pasturage at the Pixie Hollow farm to their liking, especially the big field beyond the barn filled with sweet meadow grass. The fact that there were pixies around bothered the two cows not at all. They for the most part, treated the little flying faes like flies. If one flew too close to an ear, a flick took care of it. But mostly they didn¡¯t notice, and to be honest, the Pixies didn¡¯t really like the meadow as much as the house and the barn and the trees and the land down by the stream. Hawks hunted there, and foxes and other small meat eaters, and those things and pixies are not good friends.


    The goats, either more aware or just more determined, found their own way around the homestead. The little house, which was build in part into a hill and had a turfed roof over the rest of it soon became a favored spot for the goats, which upset several of the pixies greatly, since they had enjoyed the heights. In revenge they tried pinching the goats, and throwing pixie dust. This created a war; the goats were too clever or sensible to be taken in more than a couple of times by the illusions of the pixie dust and soon the goats learned ways to torment the little faes with head butts and well placed bites until the they began to give them a wide berth.


    The one with the hardest time of it all wasn¡¯t the cows or the goats or even the pixies. It was Mistress Gan¡¯s cat.


    This was in part due to Arne.


    As a rule of thumb, pixies and cats are unfriends of the greatest sort. Cats are immune to the illusion of pixie dust, which normally makes them invisible or monstrous to those who aren¡¯t. It can be used to create illusions of something as well; a rock can become a raging lion for a time, an ugly woman beautiful, a weak man look strong. Outside of flying, it was the most important defense that the Pixies used.


    But because cats are immune, and just the right size to prowl for pixies, pixies prefer to avoid the animals. But for some reason, Arne was fascinated.


    Perhaps it was Prydi¡¯s white boots, or maybe the fact that the cat had one black ear. Arne would lie in wait, waiting for the cat to stretch out in the sun, or jump on Mistress Gan¡¯s lap, or find a comfortable place to curl up and sleep, and then the little man would come out of hiding, slide up to the cat and try to touch it. The black ear was his favorite, but he had pulled Prydi¡¯s tail or twitch his whisker as well. He would give things a yank, then fly up, out of the reach of the cat¡¯s teeth and claws.


    ¡°If he eats you,¡± Gan said after one noteworthy screech from the cat, ¡°don¡¯t expect me to do a rejuvenation spell.¡±


    Somehow, the other pixies decided to take the cat¡¯s side in this particular war, telling on Arne as he tried to sneak. Prydi tried to be a good sport about it, but cats will cat. Five days after Gan arrived, Arne got caught by his shirt. The other pixies let out a shriek that could be heard for yards, as the cat gave the pixie a thorough shaking. Gan came running out of the house, dusted in flour from making pie, and got there just in time to see Arne¡¯s shirt rip and the little man fly free.


    Arne came and landed on Gan¡¯s shoulder. ¡°You¡¯ve got to do something about that monster!¡± he said, breathless and shaking.


    ¡°Maybe we need to do something about a certain pixie,¡± Gan said, brushing him off her shoulder. ¡°Didn¡¯t I warn you? Haven¡¯t Moxie and Seamus and Gilly and all the others?¡±


    ¡°But...but...but...¡± Arne said. ¡°He almost ate me.¡±


    ¡°So leave him alone,¡± Gan replied.


    The little pixie sighed.


    <hr>


    Gabbro Byrony, assistant Investigator to the Master Investigator sat in one of back rooms at DIC headquarters, leaning against a table piled high with evidence, forensic reports, notes, interview transcripts and an odd curio he had picked up during his investigation of the murders at Xendo¡¯s Freehold.


    ¡°I¡¯m missing something. How does it connect to Sinter Acquisitions? What in a played out, bad luck mine would get them to offer up so much money to the mine? There has to be something extra, something of real value about the site we haven¡¯t figured out yet. And who had the spybirds there?¡±


    There was a knock at the door.


    ¡°Enter,¡± Byrony said.


    Tansy Slateshard walked in carrying a big mug of tea, which she handed over to Byrony. ¡°Thought you might find this helpful. We could hear you out in the main room. Might be time to take a break.¡±


    He gave Tansy a small, if genuine smile. ¡°Thanks. I was that loud?¡±


    ¡°Not really. My desk is pretty close to the door. But I know you ¨C when you get close to a roadblock, you start talking out loud. And when you do that too long, I know it¡¯s time you take a break. So the tea.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, this one¡¯s a real puzzler. Someone offers to buy a property for way more than it¡¯s worth, and then tries to hide the fact that they even offered. A few months later, the owners end up dead, in a nasty way. And it had to be dragonkin that did it ¨C they used blazendraught to murder a bauchan man. And someone had the place under surveillance, too. But nobody¡¯s made a claim for the property yet.¡±


    Tansy shook her head. ¡°Sounds like there was something somebody really wanted there. And maybe they got it.¡±


    Byrony took a sip of the tea. ¡°Maybe. Or maybe this was for vengeance, or to discredit the people making the original offer or who knows? Have you seen Lero around?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s buried himself in the archives today. Last I saw he was digging through the old business logo registries.¡± Tansy walked along the table, looking at the materials Byrony had gathered. Seeing a diagram of the inside of Piter¡¯s house, with all the findings indicated, she shuddered.


    ¡°Yeah, he¡¯s doing that for me. We got a glimpse of one with the Scene Reader, but I¡¯ve never seen that design before.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s an awful lot of registered companies. And a bunch more hobby companies who¡¯ve filed their designs with us, too. Even some non-businesses,¡± Tansy said. ¡°He could be looking a long time.¡±


    ¡°Better him than me,¡± Byrony said, rotating the mug of tea in his hand before taking another sip. ¡°Last time I had to do deep research, I thought the archivist was going to have me removed for being too noisy.¡±


    Tansy chuckled. ¡°That¡¯s what you get for thinking out loud. At least in here, people are more willing to put up with it.¡±


    There was another knock at the door.


    ¡°That¡¯s probably the signal I need to get back to my desk,¡± Tansy said, moving across the room. ¡°Good luck on your investigation.¡±


    Byrony lifted his cup. ¡°Thanks for the tea.¡±


    The dragonkin woman opened the door. ¡°Master Investigator!¡± She bowed her head slightly to him, and hurried out of the room as Master Investigator walked in.


    ¡°Well, Byrony, any progress in your murder case?¡± the older dragonkin asked.


    ¡°Not really,¡± Byrony said with a sigh. ¡°I¡¯m missing something. Lots of potential things, none with any proof.¡±


    Master Investigator nodded. ¡°Sometimes it¡¯s like that. That¡¯s why our slogan is ¡®We never stop investigating.¡¯ It can take a long time for the pieces to fall into place.¡±


    ¡°Or even to find all the pieces,¡± the younger man said.


    ¡°It¡¯s a perfect time for me to interrupt you then,¡± Master Investigator said. ¡°Pack some things. We¡¯re heading to the Boundary Lands.¡±

 Day 28 of the Brightening Month

    Chapter 23


    Tree Shepherd, Tree Shepherd


    With your eyes of blue,


    Where are you going


    In the cold morning dew,


    When the sun is just rising


    And the day is so new?


    Where are you going


    With your eyes of blue?


    Tree Shepherd, Tree Shepherd


    With your cloak so green,


    You slip through the forest


    Without being seen -


    They say you have gazed on


    The true fairy queen -


    You slip through the forest


    In your coat so green.


    Tree Shepherd, Tree Shepherd ,


    Your boots are so brown.


    Worn out and muddy


    From traveling around -


    They walk through the woods


    Without making a sound -


    Worn out and muddy


    Your boots are so brown.


    Tree Shepherd, Tree Shepherd


    With your eyes of blue,


    Where are you going


    In the cold morning dew,


    When the sun is just rising


    And the day is so new?


    Where are you going


    With your eyes of blue?


    Traditional children¡¯s song, collected by Meaves Goldstone of the Alder Branches, published in   Songs of the Sunlit Lands


    The day started innocently enough. After a fine breakfast of porridge, bread and bacon, chased by a bit of her apple pie, a meal approved of by all the pixies in attendance, Mistress Gan went outside to the front of the house, her sleeves tied up, her apron on, her hair bound in place with a practical white cap. She had made a fire and put a big copper laundry tub to boil, and was filling a second tub up for her rinse tank. ¡°One more bucket of water will do,¡± she said, then headed to the water tank. The last bucket went in, splashing two of the pixies who were following her around, Lila and Damask. They sputtered as she put the bucket down, but she paid them little mind. Instead, pleased with her preparations, she wiped her hands on her apron and moved onto the next step.


    Pye, evidently familiar with this process, curled up in a bit of sunlight peeking through the trees that shaded the front, far away from any splashings. After moving her bucket out of the way, Gan took a length of rope out of her pocket and stretched it between two trees.


    ¡°What ya doing?¡± Gilly asked, hovering near the woman¡¯s shoulder.


    ¡°Laundry,¡± Gan said, giving the rope an extra tug to make sure it could hold the weight. ¡°Somehow every piece of kitchen linen I own is sprinkled with pixie dust.¡±


    ¡°Gee.¡± said Seamus in true innocence. ¡°I wonder how that happened. Who would have done that?¡±


    ¡°Maybe has something to do with a certain pixie getting locked into my clothes chest,¡± she said affably.


    ¡°It was such a good place to sleep. So soft and lovely.¡± Moxie alighted on Mistress Gan¡¯s cap. ¡°I didn¡¯t know any place could be so lovely. Your linen is so soft.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯re the girl who told me to just find a pile of leaves to sleep on, ¡° Gan said, looking at her clothesline with some satisfaction. ¡°I think that¡¯s enough line for what I¡¯ll be washing.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know any better,¡± Moxie admitted.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think it was about softness. I think it¡¯s just that you wanted to get away from us,¡± Arne said, landing on now taut clothesline. Gan gave it a thump and he tumbled off. Moxie started to laugh at him, and he chased her away to the edge of the roof.


    ¡°What...what¡¯s that?¡± Moxie sneezed mightily. She sneezed again, twice.


    ¡°What¡¯s what?¡± Gan asked as she shook the pixie dust out of a white linen shift. ¡°I don¡¯t hear anything.¡± The dust was a bit like glitter, shimmery, catching the light. The sparkly bits danced in the breeze.


    A squirrel nearby saw what was going on, and ran into his nest. Pixie dust was potent, and he didn¡¯t want to be fox food. This was a good idea, because there was a fox nearby. The vixen, on the other hand, got a big whiff of it, and plopped down in the shade, a big foxie grin on her face. Pixie dust gave foxes the best dreams. There were always foxes near Pixie Hollow for just that reason.


    Moxie sneezed again. ¡°Something.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t be getting the sneezes from pixie dust,¡± Gan noted.


    ¡°That would be really weird,¡± Rosebud, another female pixie said. Rosebud, a little redheaded sprite, usually preferred the barn instead of the house. Ever since the goats came and took up residence, and the cows spent the night there, though, she had been showing up around the house more and more.


    Moxie sneezed again, the biggest sneeze yet, and it knocked her off the roof. Catching herself in mid-air, she landed on the clothesline. ¡°It stinks, whatever it is.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t look at me that way,¡± Seamus said, feeling defensive. ¡°I went for a swim this morning.¡±


    The woman took a bright red petticoat off of her stack, poked her finger in a small hole and sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t smell anything in particular,¡± Mistress Gan said as she shook out the garment. ¡°But I don¡¯t have a pixie¡¯s sense of smell.¡±


    ¡°Be glad,¡± Moxie said. ¡°Then you¡¯d have to smell Arne.¡±


    ¡°Hey, I heard that!¡± Arne said. He gave Moxie a shove and they both tumbled off the clothesline.


    Gilly shot up rather high in the air at this, turned towards the road, scattered handsful of pixie dust in surprise, and dashed back to others. ¡°Someone¡¯s coming. Lots of someones!¡±


    Moxie sneezed again.


    ¡°That smells like...Ixip!¡± Arne said. He pinched his nose closed, and flew off.


    ¡°Ixip!¡± Moxie said. ¡°Ixip always makes me sick.¡± She went off to join him.


    ¡°Ixip, eh?¡± Gan said. ¡°I hear that that¡¯s the most potent anti-pixie potion out there. Does it really work?¡±


    Nobody answered her, except a robin on one of the trees. She looked around, and all the pixies were gone.


    ¡°Well, what do you know? Ixip does work.¡± Taking her laundry basket in hand, she moved it into the house. ¡°This will wait. I can cope with a little pixie dust. Hopefully Moxie didn¡¯t get my good apron.¡±


    Her visitors turned out to be Lady Elaine on horseback followed by her carriage, and then a whole group of wagons. Three of the wagons were filled with of supplies, and two others carried workmen wearing large, very visible sigils against pixie magic, and the slight but persistant floral odor of Ixip over everything.


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Lady Elaine dismounted most gracefully as Tam, his nannie Edelkyn, and a woman who looked much like Elaine, but golden haired stepped out of the carriage. A groomsman hurried to take care of her mount, and then the four of them gathered around the bemused woman.


    Gan looked at the crowd of workers beginning to fan out across the farm. ¡°It¡¯s quite a party you¡¯ve brought with you, Elaine. I knew you¡¯d be coming soon, but I didn¡¯t expect such an¡­.¡± She paused for the right word. ¡°Entourage? Crowd? Party?¡±


    ¡°I hope you don¡¯t mind, Gan,¡± Elaine said, taking off her riding gloves. ¡°It occurred to me that the grounds here haven¡¯t been tended to in a long time. It seemed like a good time to see what needed repairing and to take care of it. ¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t have to, Ellie. I was just getting ready to go to Waterford or the Goblin Market. I could get most of what I needed there, and maybe even a workman or two.¡±


    ¡°Nonsense,¡± the lady said. ¡°This is on my lands, and belongs to the estate. I believe in keeping everything usable in good shape. It¡¯s just that with nobody here but the pixies...¡± Pye mewed at that. She looked down on the cat and smiled. ¡°Yes, it was that way. It was just something I hadn¡¯t yet gotten around to.¡±


    Tam was walking around looking at everything, a bemused look. He pushed through some brush, lifted a large leaf, looked under a rock. ¡°Where are they?¡± he asked.


    ¡°The pixies?¡± Gan asked.


    He nodded.


    The golden haired woman laughed a little. ¡°With everything drenched in Ixip? They¡¯re all in hiding or run off somewhere.¡±


    Tam looked crestfallen. ¡°I wanted to see them, Aunt Arriane.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll have plenty of time for that, I¡¯m sure,¡± Gan said. ¡°Arriane? So you¡¯re the little sister Elaine used to talk about so much! I thought you were on the White Isle.¡±


    She gave the older woman a brilliant smile. ¡°Oh, they let me out on holiday. Once I heard that the Gan Thistleberry of all my sister¡¯s stories had come to Allynswood, I hopped on the Dragon Web and got here soon as I could! Mother was bogged down with Alder Branch business. There¡¯s some conference coming up that they¡¯re leaning on her to deal with, but that didn¡¯t mean I couldn¡¯t come.¡±


    Nearby, Morvran lighted on a tree overlooking the work party, but on Cullin¡¯s side of the property line. ¡°Quite a crowd Lady Elaine brought.¡±


    ¡°Hmmm,¡± his companion said.


    A pixie flew by, ignoring them both, obviously unhappy about the turn of events in Pixie Hollow. ¡°I want to go home!¡± she cried as she circled around the farmstead.


    ¡°Then go home,¡± Morvran said.


    ¡°Meanie,¡± Gilly said, landing on a branch nearby. ¡°Does anybody make anti-raven potions?¡±


    ¡°If you find out, tell me.¡± Cullin adjusted his hat, giving the raven a sharp look.


    Morvran cawed, and fluttered to a different branch.


    It was clearly going to take a while. One crew of workmen had begun unloading roofing materials for the barn and raising scaffolding to reroof it. Another crew were in a field cutting fresh turfs that they would use on the house¡¯s roof. There were even four gardeners working on the abandoned vegetable patch, pulling weeds and hoeing it out, and another group working on the flower beds.


    Fence mending was going on in the pasture fields, much to the cows¡¯ amusement. Blowie liked to come up and gently butt anybody bent over, until they turned around and patted her on the nose. Hedges were being trimmed. Fruit trees were being pruned, apple and peach and cherry. But the plow lands were left alone, except for their fencing.


    ¡°Amazing what you can do if you can dose enough people with anti-pixie goop,¡± the raven continued from his perch by the Tree Shepherd. ¡°And can afford to pay them. Mistress Gan, she would have never gotten around to this. Impressive, what it¡¯s going to look like.¡±


    He turned around to look at his quiet companion. ¡°I thought you¡¯d be angry, ready to throw mud everywhere. Or even rocks.¡±


    Cullin pulled his cloak closer.


    ¡°They aren¡¯t on my land,¡± he said.


    ¡°Never stopped you before,¡± Morvran said.


    Cullin didn¡¯t reply.


    Down below, workmen had set up a table far enough from the work and spread it with a white cloth. Someone had taken over the fire where Gan had been heating laundry water and now a tea kettle was set on the grate. Three women sat around the table, Elaine, Edelkyn and Gan. Instead of watching the progress on the house, where workers were fixing the shutters and making sure the windows were tight, the women were watching Tam and the golden haired woman playing some sort of game with a ball.


    Cullin couldn¡¯t take his eyes off of her.


    ¡°Who is that woman?¡± he asked the raven. ¡°The one with golden hair?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s Arriane, Lady Elaine¡¯s sister. You¡¯d learn a thing or two if you¡¯d get out of your woods sometimes,¡± the raven replied. ¡°But that might not have helped. She¡¯s been away a long time. Just got back.¡±


    ¡°Arriane? That can¡¯t be Arriane. I met her in the forest not long ago, over by the Three Oaks She had gotten lost, and I guided her back to the road. She was no bigger than the boy is now. Maybe smaller.¡±


    ¡°You really don¡¯t have any sense of time, do you? Arriane got lost in the woods before Lady Elaine got married to Lord Gweir. Lady Gwenyth was still the Lady of Allynswood. She¡¯s been at the White Island years now, and she took Arriane with her. Got tired of being the Lady of the House, I heard, and dumped it all on Elaine.


    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± Cullin said. He shook his head. ¡°Has that much time past?¡±


    ¡°How long has it been since the great fire? The one that drove tall those people away near Ravenwood?¡±


    ¡°Trees that grew up in the ash have grown up and have died,¡± the tree shepherd said.


    ¡°I think you need a better clock,¡± Morvran cawed, and flew off.


    ¡°Has it been that long?¡± Cullin said to himself.


    He climbed down the tree and headed into Pixie Hollow. Work stopped as he hopped the stone wall that marked the dividing line between the Allynwood estate and his forest. Men watched, and ducked where they could as they watched the thin man in his mossy green cloak and his wide brimmed hat walk across the field that led to the road.


    ¡°Watch out, Rob! You don¡¯t want any of his mud on you!¡± someone yelled to one of the gardeners. The gardener looked up and saw who was heading his way, dropped his hoe and ran behind the house. Cullin¡¯s reputation had proceeded him.


    ¡°Oh my,¡± Lady Elaine said. ¡°It looks like we¡¯ve attracted a little more company.¡±


    Mistress Gan picked up a slice of cake off the table and put it on a saucer, then stood up.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think he¡¯s here to do mischief,¡± she said. ¡°He¡¯s already come by to introduce himself. I fed him dinner.¡±


    ¡°That must be a first,¡± said the nannie. ¡°Nobody expects the Tree Shepherd to come calling with anything but rocks and mud.


    Gan moved towards him, cake in hand. He walked in the direction where Arriane and Tam had been playing, although both had stopped to watch him, instead. Morvran, his curiosity getting the better of him, circled closer, then casting caution to the wind, landed on the ground near Tam¡¯s ball, now being ignored. For good measure, he gave it a peck. It rolled a little bit, and then stopped. Morvran pecked at it again.


    ¡°Who¡¯s that?¡± Tam asked, pointing. ¡°He¡¯s not one of the work crew.


    Arriane looked at the green clad man quizzically as he neared, and then suddenly the dawn of recognition lit up her face. Somehow, in her surprise, she began to glow, ever so slightlyl


    ¡°The green man!¡± she said. Her hands covered her mouth in surprise. She let them fall, taking a step in his direction. ¡°My green man! You...you rescued me when I was young. I had wandered into the forest following a rabbit and got totally lost. But you found me. I wanted to thank you, but I never found you again to thank you. My father never let me get close enough to the forest after that to even look.¡±


    Mistress Gan had reached the two, holding her cake like it was a talisman of power, ready to be used in case of emergency, but neither Arriane nor Cullin had eyes for anybody else.


    ¡°You...you...¡± Cullin said, biting his lips as he tried to put words together.


    ¡°Yes. Do you remember little Arriane?¡± the young woman said. She gave him a brilliant smile and a small curtsey. There was laughter in her voice, but not the hurtful kind. ¡°I must have looked a mess. I had skinned my knee and you bandaged it. I know my nose was runny, because you gave me your hankerchief. I still have it, back on the White Isle. There were sticks in my hair. I know that because it took my nannie forever to brush it out. But you were so kind.¡±


    It was hard to tell if the Tree Shepherd even heard a word she said, his look was so intense.


    ¡°You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen,¡± Cullin said at last. ¡°More lovely than the sunrise at Midsummer¡¯s day, more beautiful than the snowdrops that grow in the spring. More beautiful than the orchids in the wood.¡±


    His eyes grew wide and wild when he realized what he had said, and he blushed bright red. Gan offered him the cake, and grabbing it, he ran back for his forest.


    ¡°Now that was rather unexpected.¡± Gan scratched her head. ¡°He acts like she hit him with glamour, and you¡¯d think a man his age would be totally immune to a young woman¡¯s excitement magic. And what he said - who knew he had a poet¡¯s soul?¡± She went back to the table.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know Tree Shepherds could be smitten that way,¡± Elaine said.


    ¡°Me either,¡± Gan replied. ¡°Lady Arriane made quite an impression on him. But was it because he met her as a child?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s always been kind to children.¡± Elaine nodded. ¡°Maybe so.¡±

 Day 28 of the Brightening Month, Continued

    Chapter 24


    The Jinn people keep outsiders out of their heartland as much as possible. This is easy for them to do ¨C the Dragon Web and related magics do not work there, and magic of the Aos Si works nearly as badly, and it is desert country, and only lightly populated. This has allowed many legends to arise, and tales of flying monsters as big as a ship are common, snake-haired women with the legs of birds, sand dancers ready to lead the unwary away, a lake at the center of the wilderness that grants wishes, and the legend of Mount Qaaf, where the wisest person in the world lives, surrounded by countless amounts of treasure that can only be won by answering a riddle no one has yet solved are common stories that percolate through the Sunlit Lands. Some say the Jinn and the Peri people who live there encourage the telling of these tales, trying to keep other people away. Whatever the reason, the tales spin a story world both exotic and mysterious. I hope you find the stories gathered as interesting as they were to gather.


    Preface,   Tales of the Gray Lands   by   Maire Windwood of the Alder Branches


    While the work party continued Cullin launched himself deep into the wood, resting on the lower branch of a large oak tree, still confused by the events at Mistress Gan¡¯s house.


    ¡°Oh, there you are,¡± Leila the nymph said. ¡°I could feel the ripples of something echoing through your forest. I take it you had an odd day.¡± She ducked beneath the branch he was sitting on and gave him a questioning look.


    ¡°And what told you that?¡± he said, still clutching the saucer with the slice of cake Gan had offered him. He stared down at it rather than meet the nymph¡¯s eyes.


    ¡°Oh, little things,¡± said the nymph. She picked up a stray oak leaf, and making a single gesture, transformed it into a small carpet. Laying it on the ground, she gracefully sat down next to the Tree Shepherd. ¡°First, the Wood Wives have been threatening the poor Urisk with mirrors,¡± Leila said. ¡°You know how self-conscious he is about his looks. The fact that most of us thinks he¡¯s ugly distresses him to no end. Why they would torture that poor, gentle soul that way...¡±


    ¡°Bah,¡± Cullin said. ¡°Have they ever looked at their own reflections? Or do they think they look like you when they see themselves?¡±


    ¡°I think they do, actually,¡± Leila said. ¡°You should hear them when they¡¯re getting dressed. They go on and on about now they have to be sure not to make all the men in the forest not go mad over how gorgeous they are.¡±


    Cullin guffawed.


    ¡°And Rusty was teasing the Old Stag. Almost got gored.¡±


    ¡°Stupid Faun. He would have deserved it. The Old Stag doesn¡¯t put up with much. That¡¯s why he¡¯s the stag king.¡± Suddenly realizing he was still holding the saucer, he put it on the branch next to him.


    ¡°And...¡± she was about to list other things, and saw how Cullin wasn¡¯t really paying attention. Instead, he stared off, a slight scowl on his lips.


    ¡°You¡¯re off balance again. Was it Mistress Gan?¡±


    Cullin sighed. ¡°Not exactly.¡±


    ¡°Want to tell me about it?¡± She leaned back on the tree truck.


    ¡°It still has Gan in the middle of it, though. You¡¯re right on that part of it.¡±


    Leila tilted her head to the side and rested a finger on her chin, like she was contemplating a puzzle. ¡°Not her fault, but she¡¯s still in the middle?¡± Her eyes lit up as she remembered something. ¡°Does this have something to do with Lady Elaine sending a work party over there?¡±


    Cullin pulled his wide-brimmed hat down, hiding his eyes. ¡°You know about that?¡±


    ¡°A panicked pixie told me.¡± Leila said, nodding. ¡°Something about Ixip and all these workers coming in on monster wagons drawn by monsters.¡±


    ¡°The air reeked of it. No monsters but oxen.¡±


    ¡°To a pixie, an ox is a monster,¡± Leila said, ¡°as scary as a wyvern.¡±


    He shrugged. ¡°Pixies see things differently. But it wasn¡¯t just workers. Lady Elaine and her boy were there. And her¡­¡± he sighed, ¡°..her sister.¡±


    ¡°Arriane? She¡¯s back from the White Isle?¡±


    ¡°Last time I saw her she was a little girl with sticks in her hair and a skinned knee, lost in the woods. Now she¡¯s¡­.¡±


    ¡°All grown up and in the first flush of Daoine beauty?¡± Leila suggested.


    ¡°So beautiful. Like when the fireflies dance, or the Water Sprites on the Summer full moon rise up out of the lake to dance. Like when you stumble across the unicorn by the falls on a full moon night. Like the morning after the first real snow of the year, when the trees are all frosted in the sunlight. Like Leila when she laughs at one of the Old Oak¡¯s rude jokes...¡±


    He turned and looked at her. Leila smiled at that last item.


    ¡°Are you smitten with her beauty as an art object, or are you claiming love at first sight?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know anything about her. Love of her beauty at first sight?¡± He slid off of the tree branch. ¡°Is there such a thing? Loving the beauty separate from the person?¡±


    ¡°Maybe,¡± Leila said. ¡°I¡¯m warning you, though ¨C you¡¯re starting to sound like one of my novels.¡±


    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    He gave her a sharp look. ¡°Don¡¯t even begin to make that comparison.¡±


    ¡°Is it just being smitten by Lady Arriane that has unbalanced you?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± he said. ¡°Morvran will probably tell you everything about it. He was there.¡±


    ¡°Shall I go find him then, to find out all the details?¡±


    He shook his head. ¡°Not yet. But...but tell me - how did she get to be a beautiful woman so soon. It was just the other day she got lost on the edge of the forest, and I took her back to her nurse.¡±


    ¡°Time does pass. Look at Gan. She was a child when the Great Fire happened.¡±


    Cullin nodded. ¡°I told Morvran there were trees that sprouted, grew and died since that happened. It¡¯s true.¡±


    ¡°Here in the forest there really isn¡¯t much to signal the passing of time except the change of seasons, and they all blend into each other.¡± She rested a hand on his arm. ¡°Think of how many years you¡¯ve lived here, Tree Shepherd.¡±


    ¡°It all blends together.¡±


    ¡°But not for children. Even you were a child once, you know. And the whole world changed regularly until you came here.¡±


    ¡°I guess,¡± Cullin said. ¡°All that time seems so gray. I was caught up in the Sundering war and lost all my family until Lady Sulis found me. And then I came to the forest.¡±


    ¡°I told you Gan would bring change. Not because she¡¯s bad or making trouble, but because she¡¯s new. Things will swirl around for a while, and then she¡¯ll be as much as part of the landscape as the Old Oak.¡±


    ¡°But not as rude, I suspect.¡±


    She smiled at him. ¡°I do suspect. And she¡¯ll bake much better cake.¡±


    Cullin looked at the slice of cake laying in its saucer. He picked up the plate and took a bite. It was rich with the taste of spice. ¡°No doubt indeed.¡±


    <hr>


    Late afternoon sunlight filtered into the quiet room through gauzy curtains. Outside, there was the sound of wind in the branches of trees, and the chirping of birds, and the very faint music of wind chimes in the garden beyond.


    Although the light was soft and filtered, and to someone coming in from outside, it might even be called dim, Violette Greenleaf blinked her eyes three times against even that filtered light as she awakened. Released from her magical healing sleep, she had spent most of the last day drifting in and out of normal rest, barely aware of the times people had come to her room to check on her, feeding her broth, changing her bandage. This was the first time she felt truly awake and lucid.


    Beneath her, she could feel the texture of the bed sheet she was lying on, fine smooth linen, and as she clutched the blanket covering her, she could feel the lightweight but fluffy wool. Breathing in she noticed that the air smelled of bitter herbal medicines and sickness, as well as a light floral odor, perhaps lavender, that had been placed as a sachet or potpourri somewhere in the room. All of these things, the texture of reality, were things that had been missing in her moments of dreamlike lucidity she had experienced for many days. She lifted an arm and made a fist. Her muscles were stiff from lack of use, adding to her awareness of the change in her condition.


    ¡°I must really be awake, finally,¡± she said, or tried to. Her mouth and throat were very dry, and it was hard to make sounds above a croak.


    Turning her head, she saw a cup and a carafe on a wooden nightstand next to the bed, there among a stack of bandage material and vials of medicine. With some effort, she threw off her covers and managed to sit up. It was a mildly painful effort since she hadn¡¯t really moved for awhile and her muscles complained, leaving her dizzy and short of breath.


    ¡°How long have I been out of it?¡± she whispered, sitting still as she focused on getting her breath back and allowing the lightheadedness she felt pass. Taking a deep breath after she was sure she could handle it, she reached out and grabbed the cup with both hands. It contained a clear liquid, and a sniff and a small sip confirmed it was water. She took another, larger sip and felt it go down and cool her dry throat. After a moment, she took another, then greedily swallowed the whole thing down.


    ¡°Better,¡± she said. Her throat still felt too dry, but at least she could make sounds. She almost reached for the carafe to pour another cup, but the way the water hit her stomach, she stopped.


    ¡°Where am I and how did I get here?¡±


    The room had no answer.


    Looking down, she noticed she was dressed in a plain white night dress and one of her legs was wrapped in a bandage. ¡°How sick was I?¡± she asked. She vaguely remembered being bit by something, but everything after that was a mix of pain and drifting into darkness and Xhindi hovering over her. Wiggling her foot, she could feel small twinges in the bandaged area. ¡°Doesn¡¯t really hurt now. How long have I been here?¡±


    She contemplated standing, but as she put the cup back on the nightstand, the door to the room opened up, and a tall jinn woman wrapped in white robes walked in. She, like Xhindi was dark of eye. Across her forehead was a red filet decorated with dangling metal beads that ended just above her eyebrows. Her hair was covered with a white veil. She gave Violetta a solemn, but pleased look.


    She walked over to the bed.


    ¡°Ah, you¡¯re awake, I see,¡± she said, resting her hand lightly on Violetta¡¯s forehead. Pleased again, she gave the sick woman a quick nod. ¡°Your body temperature has stabilized. All the fever has gone.¡± The next thing she did was check the now empty cup, then gracefully refilled the cup from the carafe. ¡°And able to drink. That is good. I suspect you felt rather thirsty.¡±


    Violetta nodded. ¡°I was.¡± Her voice was still gravelly, but she could at least make sounds now. ¡°Were you the one who took care of me?¡±


    The woman in white nodded, then took Violetta¡¯s wrist. Violetta could feel the tickle of the white-clad woman¡¯s magic slither up her arm and into her aura as she did so, and it made her jerk, just a little.


    ¡°Thirst - that¡¯s what happens when you have been kept in a deep healing sleep. The medicines and magic make it hard to get the patient to swallow as much as normal, or even drink. There are healer¡¯s tricks to help, but it¡¯s never enough. Feel free to drink more, but try not to drink too fast. Your stomach might over react.¡±


    Violetta nodded, then looked around the room and back at her nurse. There were questions in her eyes which t he woman in white ignored while she concentrated on whatever she was sensing, but after a moment she let go of Violetta¡¯s hand. ¡°You are healing nicely. Not everyone who is Aos Si does so well after the bite of a blood fire spider.¡±


    ¡°Was that what happened? I don¡¯t remember very much,¡± Violetta said. ¡°Just pain, and Xhindi making me drink a potion...everything else is a memory of pain and dream.¡± She looked around the room she was in, and back at the woman tending her. ¡°I don¡¯t even know where I am. Or who you are. You look like a woman who kept coming to me in my dreams.¡±


    The woman in white raised an eyebrow at that. ¡°In your dreams?¡±


    ¡°She looked a lot like you, except her hair was bright red, and her robes were gray, not white. Almost like smoke.¡±


    The standing woman¡¯s eyes went a bit wide. ¡°As for where you are --you are deep in Jinn territory, in a place you were never meant to be. We don¡¯t usually let outsiders into our sacred spaces.¡±


    ¡°I...I am sorry,¡± Violetta said ¡°I...¡±


    The woman in white held up her hand. ¡°None of this is your fault. Xhindi did right bringing you here. You would have died if he made for the next freehold. I am the Called for this place. That¡¯s what we call the people who guard the sacred sites. When I came here, I gave up my name, so that is all I can tell you to call me.¡±


    She moved to the door. ¡°Since you are awake, I¡¯ll have someone prepare you something to eat. Try not to get out of bed any more than you need to. I¡¯m not sure if your leg is ready for much weight on it. Now, let me go tell Xhindi the news.¡±


    ¡°Xhindi¡¯s still here?¡± Violetta asked. She, for some reason, was surprised.


    The Called nodded. ¡°He sat by your side many hours while you were asleep. If I don¡¯t tell him how I found you now, he¡¯ll be breaking down the door. Rest. We will help you get back your strength. But it is good that you are back with us. And maybe, if you feel like it, you can tell me about your dreams. I wonder about this woman you saw.¡±


    And with that she stepped out of the room.

 Day 28 of the Brightening Month, Continued 2

    Chapter 25


    Once upon a time, there were two sisters. One was golden like the sun, the other had midnight curls. One day the golden child saw a bit of flame that seemed to burn on a piece of rock. Intrigued, she went up to the flame and warmed her hands in its warmth. Suddenly, the flame moved, changed shape, and turned into the form of a girl with flame red hair, wreathed in a dress of silver gray fabric that looked like smoke. They became best friends.


    Many years later, the golden girl, grown into a bright woman, said goodbye to her mother who flew off to be with the Lifegiver at the very top of the world tree. Her sister grew angry when the elders chose the golden girl to sit in her mother¡¯s chair. Spinning a deep magic, the dark sister caused the very house the golden one and killed her. Soon she was running across the land, spreading shadow and demanding all worship her.


    Remembering her dear friend, the woman of fire and smoke took her golden friend¡¯s children and hid them from the dark woman. Pleading to the Lifegiver, she was given a great and dangerous weapon to save the people who loved the light and the Lifegiver. After many hard times, she finally used it, and the great boundary arose that separated the people of the Shadow from the people of the light. This was very painful for the woman of fire and smoke, and for centuries, nobody could find her, not even the children of her friend. But in her dreams, the Golden Child and the Child of Flame and Smoke ran through the woods of the First Days until it was time for her to wake up.


    Small Tales of the Past for Young Minds ¨C  Sharai Bluebottle of the Alder Branches


    On the White Island, the Oldest strolled through the garden in a small house near the sea coast. She passed out of the garden gate and began to wander towards the sound of the ocean. The path wound through a stand of trees, bent by long exposure to the coastal wind, looking like hunched over guardians protecting the island until the ground gave way to a view of the ocean. The day was getting late; she felt the chill of it as she looked toward the sea, at the waves crashing into the rocks at the foot of the cliff this house was built on, the cliff and the rock at the bottom both dark and brooding in the afternoon light.


    ¡°What are you bringing me today?¡± she asked the air. ¡°There are so many strings at play, Lifegiver. Take what the Dragonkin are doing.¡± The only response was the mournful call of a seabird who had flown up and circled overhead, hoping perhaps to find that the person had dropped some food.


    As if reading its mind, the Oldest threw out a piece of bread she had in her pocket, far enough away from her that the bird could feel safe about landing. In a flash of white, it circled around and landed, examining the offering carefully before swooping it up and flying a bit away to eat it.


    A thin smile touched her face as she drew a connection to the thing most on her mind and what the bird did. ¡°Tossing me out bait, is that what you¡¯re doing, Master Grimsbeard?¡± she asked. She tossed another piece out, and watched the bird retrieve it. ¡°Sending your master investigator to me with such an interesting offer! Things must be bad in Willowick indeed if you¡¯re trying to enlist Ynys Afel and the White Circle in your political games. Dragonkin are always so determined to police their own. That means, at least, they don¡¯t know where the threat is coming from, or it¡¯s more than they think they can handle. But with Gandaran moving, the perceived threat must be deep. That old dragon put deep wards over his people to keep them from self-destruction.¡± She threw the last piece of bread out.


    A gust of wind tugged at her she pulled her shawl closer. ¡°It would be easier if they¡¯d just tell us what the problem is, and set us loose. Dragonkin politics are worse than the games nobles play at the Bear¡¯s court. And unlike the court ballet, which mostly affects the noble houses, the whole land depends on the Dragon Web. I guess we¡¯ll take their bait and see where this leads.¡±


    She turned back walk up the path to the small, white house. When she was about halfway there, Ethne her secretary met her. In his hands was a warm cloak.


    ¡°How did you know?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Memory. I remember how chill it gets here, even in high summer,¡± the man said, holding the cloak open so she could slip into it. ¡°And we¡¯re nowhere near summer yet.¡±


    ¡°True,¡± the Oldest said, smoothing the warm folds of wool around her.


    ¡°And,¡± Ethne said, ¡°Your guest has arrived.¡±


    The Oldest tilted her head. ¡°Am I that late?¡±


    ¡°Not at all.¡±


    The two of them began walking again.


    ¡°Lord Bedwyr seems in a dark mood,¡± Ethne said. ¡°I think he may have received some news he didn¡¯t like before arriving.¡±


    ¡°Or maybe he just lost again to the Hawk before coming here,¡± the Oldest said, shrugging. ¡°They spar often, and Hawk is the better swordsman.¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± Ethne said, nodding. ¡°I have noticed that for companions, they do seem to like to challenge each other.¡±


    They had almost passed through the stand of trees. A squirrel crossing the path, saw them, and ran up one of the last, and began barking at them.


    The Oldest looked up and smiled at the creature, then reached into her pocket to see if she had any treat left, but her pocket was empty. ¡°Sorry, friend squirrel. Perhaps next time.¡±


    The squirrel flicked its tale, almost as if in acknowledgment, and the two continued on, exiting the woods. From where they stood, the garden wall, and the upper floor of the house were clearly visible.


    ¡°Still, no matter what may have triggered his mood or not, the Birch always seems to be in a dark mood to those who don¡¯t really know how to read him,¡± the Oldest said as they neared the garden gate. ¡°Of all my students back in the early days after the Sundering, he was the most serious. The Hawk was the most athletic, the Bear always strove to find balance and answers. Even Cullin, with all his mental overload and trauma would smile more easily.¡±


    Ethne hurried to open the garden gate, and the two of them stepped into the garden, just starting to show its green promise for the year.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think much has changed, then,¡± Ethne said. ¡°Although I don¡¯t know about Cullin. I hear they have to remind him that the King¡¯s Highway is open to all travelers even if goes through his forest.¡±


    ¡°Ah, I¡¯ve heard about that. It¡¯s been a long time since I¡¯ve visited there. Perhaps one day, if we can figure out what¡¯s going on with the Dragonkin and whatever¡¯s going on with the Shadowlands and the Border,¡± the Oldest said, ¡°I¡¯ll have time to pay him a visit. Still, at least that¡¯s one corner of the world I¡¯m least worried about for the moment.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s nice to have somewhere,¡± Ethne said, nodding.


    ¡°Well let¡¯s go see if we can get today¡¯s meeting done,¡± the Oldest said. ¡°The sooner we get this particular story over with, the sooner we can say ¡®Happily ever after.¡¯¡±


    ¡°Until the next story erupts,¡± Ethne said, opening the door to the house. He stood by the side waiting for her to step through.


    ¡°A never-ending story book, our life, eh?¡± the Oldest said, and walked into the house.


    <hr>


    As late afternoon light filtered through the window, heavy footsteps sounded in the hallway outside of Violetta¡¯s room. She lay back down while listening, and pulled the covers back over her while listening, in case she had a visitor and they would catch her sitting there in her night dress. The footsteps stopped in front of her door, and soft words were exchanged, but too faint for her to make out.


    Remembering the Called¡¯s promise to send Xhindi in, for some reason, Violetta suddenly felt nervous. The voices finished, and then lighter footsteps moved away from the door. ¡°Here we go,¡± she whispered.


    There was a gentle knock on her door.


    Violetta swallowed. ¡°Come in,¡± she finally said.


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    The door swung open, and a solemn faced Xhindi stood in the doorway. Even as sick as she had been and as weak as she was now, she was able to see something weighing him down. He had always seemed almost a flame ready to burst into action, whether in joke or running from danger, but now he seemed almost cold, like a burned out ash. This impression was made stronger by the dark robes he wore instead of his usual white.


    ¡°The Called told me you were up,¡± he said, softly. His voice, though, was as warm as ever.


    ¡°I am,¡± she replied, giving him a small smile. ¡°The Called also told me that if she didn¡¯t tell you I was, you would be here tearing the door down.¡±


    He looked a little sheepish and dropped his eyes to the floor. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯d go quite that far,¡± he said. ¡°The Called would never let me live that particular one down.¡± In spite of himself, he smiled a little. ¡°The Called One here is the daughter of my father. Soon, my whole clan would know. And they would all let me know what a fool I was.¡±


    Some of his spirit percolated back up as they talked. This encouraged Violetta to continue.


    ¡°And that you had been here watching with her the entire time I was...recovering.¡± She gave him a probing look. ¡°I was surprised you hadn¡¯t gone on. Didn¡¯t you have something to do at Aufzee¡¯s Freehold?¡±


    ¡°I do,¡± he said nodding. ¡°But it will wait.¡± There were a few chairs in the room. He took one, moved it not too far from Violetta¡¯s bed. ¡°My first duty this trip is to you, to get you safely through the desert and back to your people. That was our agreement. Instead I let you come near death.¡± He looked her in the eyes, and she could see the darkness touch him again. ¡°How could I leave?¡±


    ¡°The spider was not your fault,¡± she said, softly, surprised at how he was blaming himself. ¡°And you brought me somewhere I could be healed.¡±


    ¡°So many things have been going on that I should have been aware of before we started this trek.¡±


    ¡°Are you talking about the two men who were killed before we got to Xendo¡¯s Freehold?¡±


    ¡°They were a part of it, yes.¡± Xhindi sighed. ¡°We will talk more of it when you are stronger. There are things I need to make clear, before we continue.¡±


    ¡°Now you have me intrigued,¡± Violetta said. ¡°I went to retrieve a friend¡¯s item, and look what¡¯s happened! I don¡¯t even know where I¡¯m at, and you add to the mystery.¡± She sucked on her bottom lip, almost a pout.


    ¡°All in good time, Violetta Greenleaf.¡± The Called, evidently who had been at the door for a moment, walked in, followed by another woman carrying a tray with covered dishes smelling of food. ¡°First, let us try to get some food into you, so you can recover enough to find out.¡±


    Violetta looked at Xhindi, and then his sister, and for some reason, she laughed.


    <hr>


    There was a room in the Oldest¡¯s seaside house that held a large round table. It could seat perhaps 12 people easily, dominating a room that was otherwise a simple room with dragonfire lamps from the ceiling supplementing the light from outside, and plain white walls, a room designed to offer minimal distractions. The only other furnishings besides the table and chairs was one long sideboard. Often it was filled with tea things and flowers. Currently it was bare.


    Only one person sat at the table.


    ¡°What are you doing, Redbeard?¡± Bedwyr muttered as he looked through the papers he had brought with him. ¡°Something going on at Tantis? That¡¯s in your own back yard. Your mother¡¯s people come from there.¡± He looked up and stared out of the window at the fading light of the day, almost full sunset. ¡°Halfway between Greshold¡¯s Keep and Brightwater, and a nest of smuggling vipers if I ever saw one, and the last time I was there, every one was tied to the Redbeard apron. There was nothing more dangerous than being a freelance smuggler there. Even being caught by the dogheads or the trows was better.¡± He sighed. ¡°New competition? Are you losing control, old bastard?¡±


    He sighed deeply. ¡°If you are, so much work to be done. Another group to co-opt to keep the balance between Shadow and Sunlight. More people in the field.¡± He rubbed his temples, like he had a headache coming on, then glanced through his other papers.


    ¡°How did we miss the little fires starting to burn everywhere? Missing researchers. The explosion of Dreamdust being smuggled. New smugglers. Escalation in Shadowland attacks at Greshold¡¯s. Unexplicable murders that seem to be done to discredit Dragonkin companies. Untraceable jumpstones. Fires everywhere.¡±


    ¡°Fires everywhere,¡± said a voice behind him. ¡°The question is do we have a single arsonist directing it all, or is it just coincidence.¡±


    Bedwyr turned around and saw the Oldest walking into the room, followed by Ethne carrying a tray. The Oldest¡¯s secretary revealed a carafe of wine, and a tray of savories. Steam rose up off of them, and they let out a delicious smell.


    ¡°I¡¯ll leave you to your discussion,¡± Ethne said, and then gracefully walked out of the room, closing the door gently behind him.


    The Oldest walked over to the cabinet, opened one of its doors, and took out two wine glasses. ¡°I thought we might want something stronger than tea this evening.¡±


    Bedwyr nodded as she poured, and accepted a glass from her hand. ¡°Arsonist or coincidence?¡±


    She moved to her chair, tall backed, heavily carved, and marked with the sigil of the White Circle. Seating herself, she took a sip of wine, and stared out at the gathering gloom through the window. ¡°Queen Aife has never given up her ambitions to rule the whole of An Lar. She might give lip service to the pact we made, but¡­¡±


    The old warrior took a sip of his wine. ¡°But?¡±


    ¡°She almost destroyed the whole world, Birch. You weren¡¯t here yet. You didn¡¯t see it. She killed her sister, my mother. She so wanted the Queenship after my grandmother decided to return to the Lifegiver. If the Lady of Smoke and Fire hadn¡¯t used that awful device to set up the Boundary, who knows what would have happened? We were so close to losing everything when she got it to work. And it took a long, hard time to recover from the Sundering. So much was lost and destroyed. So much poisoned. I¡¯m sure it was the same over in the Shadow Lands. It¡¯s hard for me sometimes in dealing with them. Am I acting in the best interests of An Lar, of Ynys Afel, or am I still reacting to her betrayal, and my anger and desire for vengeance? I don¡¯t know if I have yet let that white hot hurt totally go. It makes me cautious sometimes, maybe too cautious.¡±


    ¡°The land is prosperous and at peace. I think you¡¯ve done well over the years,¡± Bedwyr said. ¡°I don¡¯t think you¡¯re acting too cautious.¡±


    She sighed. ¡°Usually. Except when I am.¡± She got up and walked over to the cabinet, retrieved a plate, and chose several things off the heated plate. ¡°Remember the Brightwater massacre. We could have put more troops there. But we waited too long.¡±


    ¡°Some of that was the Bear¡¯s and the Hawk¡¯s fault.¡± Bedwyr saw what was on the Oldest¡¯s plate and got up and helped himself.


    ¡°But all three of you were young at this thing. I should have overruled you and your brothers.¡±


    He popped one of the savories in his mouth. This was not the first time the two of them had had this discussion. ¡°You bring this up every time you are nervous about something, Queen Sulis.¡±


    She turned sharply at him when he called her that name. ¡°Queen Sulis is no more, and you know it.¡±


    ¡°If you were not still taking on the responsibility, perhaps I would agree, Lady. So let¡¯s go over what is making you fret.¡±


    ¡°Is that what I am doing? Or is it just cursing at the not knowing?¡± she played with one of her savories, and then ate it.


    ¡°Maybe both. Let¡¯s go over it piece by piece, like you taught me when I was still shorter than this table.¡±


    She gave him a wan little smile. ¡°You¡¯re right. Let¡¯s begin.¡±


    Bedwyr took out a pencil stub and a small tablet he carried in his jacket. ¡°Let¡¯s begin.¡±


    She nodded, and picked up her wine glass. Instead of sipping, she just stared into empty space. ¡°As usual we need answers. Questions we have in plenty. One, what is going on in the Shadowlands? Is a new leader rising up among the Dogheads? Most of the contact we¡¯ve had at Greshold¡¯s Keep and with the smuggling groups we¡¯ve intercepted have been with Doghead groups and their allies.¡±


    ¡°Or Lady Bercha has a new advisor. Her Wild Hunt has usually used the Dogheads as their shock troops,¡± Bedwyr noted.


    ¡°And finding that answer will either come from your people, or maybe Redbeard,¡± the Oldest said.


    ¡°I¡¯ll have to get more people in the field,¡± he replied. ¡°Maybe the Birch¡¯s agents are too well known.¡±


    ¡°Then you¡¯ll need fresh blood.¡± The Oldest looked thoughtful. ¡°It¡¯s possible I could loan you a squad, but remember, my people aren¡¯t trained to do double duty as combat forces. You¡¯ll have to use them wisely.¡±


    Bedwyr nodded.


    ¡°Whoever it is doesn¡¯t understand the functional reason why we allow smuggling to happen in the first place. Or doesn¡¯t care about the balance between Sunlit and Shadow.¡±


    ¡°Or both.¡± The Birch made a note on his tablet.


    ¡°Or doesn¡¯t care about the profit. So we can¡¯t rule out that this is happening from the higher levels, maybe the Tower of Ru itself. I need you to tell me if Aife is involved. I don¡¯t want to be the one that thinks this comes from my Aunt. I¡¯m too biased.¡± The Oldest got up and got the carafe off of the cabinet.


    Bedwyr scratched the back of his head as he thought, then looked up and met the Oldest¡¯s eyes as a thought came to him. ¡°We might be looking at this wrong. Redbeard seems to be having his hands full with well supplied smugglers not under his thumb. Maybe it¡¯s not the Shadowlands pushing this. Some renegade house trying to take over from Brightwater? Someone, possibly, who isn¡¯t even aware of the complications they¡¯re causing?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not impossible. We¡¯ll want to lend Redbeard enough support to keep him in control. And our channels open. Although, if there¡¯s going to be another power broker, we need to establish a working relationship with them as well.¡±


    ¡°Already looking into it, a little,¡± Bedwyr said.


    ¡°Other things disturb me, though,¡± The Oldest said. ¡°We have confirmed that the Dragonkin leadership believes their Gandaran moved in his magical sleep, and every time that has happened in the past, it meant someone, some faction is trying to disturb their own power balance. The old Dragon laid some powerful magics over himself and his people before he went to his rest. I have no doubt the Dragonkin believe these signs, and I have no real reason to believe the beliefs are just superstitions. I once was invited to the place he rests. The waves of magic energy coming off of him is amazing.¡±


    Bedwyr nodded. ¡°If only they would be more open about things.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯ll never do that,¡± the Oldest said. She rested her hands on the arms of her chair. ¡°Not fully. We can work in parallel as allies sometimes, but that is as close as it gets. Still they¡¯re dogged about weeding out their own malefactors.¡±


    ¡°The ¡®we never stop investigating¡¯ business?¡± Bedwyr tilted his head. ¡°I wonder about that sometimes. I mean, the business with the disappearing no space researchers has been going on a long time.¡±


    ¡°I have a hunch about that. If we could find out what¡¯s the source of that, we might find the start of their current discomfort.¡± She shrugged. ¡°But there seem to be attacks on multiple fronts, not just one sector trying to take out another. The Master Investigator stopped by recently and asked us to join him in an operation on Tantis. I¡¯m pretty sure it¡¯s bait to give us something good to help them with their problems.¡±


    That caught Bedwyr off guard. ¡°Tantis?¡±


    ¡°You seem surprised, Birch,¡± the Oldest said, studying his face.


    ¡°Just today I got word from Jared Redbeard about problems in Tantis.¡±


    The Oldest raised an eyebrow, and steepled her fingertips. ¡°Well then. Tomorrow get a squad together, and head down there. Gabbro Byrony will be waiting for you in the Tantis DIC office. Let¡¯s see what the Dragonkin are offering for our help.¡±

 Day 2 of the Warming Month

    Chapter 26


    Beware drawing the attention of higher ups. It almost always leads to extra work. And that¡¯s on a good day.


    Aphorisms for a Quiet Life by Ruddtha Redstone, Chairman of Toolets Manufacturing, Sunderland


    Umber walked into the office at Goblin Market, papers from the last shipment out clutched in one hand, and a cash bag in the other.


    The room was in its usual semi-organized mess. Umber¡¯s was pristine, his file cases neatly closed, the tools he used to certify the paperwork arranged in a small box, the inkwell filled and properly capped, and the pen jar filled with sharpened pens ready to be used. Thornfield, as he often was, was sitting at his desk, loaded with a sloppy in box of papers yet to be finalized, a novel in his hands, and his feet propped up on the desk. He briefly looked up as Umber entered, then immediately went back to his reading.


    ¡°Gah! Why does raw wool stink so bad? If it has to, why don¡¯t they use some sort of containment touch stone?¡± Umber said, as he went over to the safe and opened it with a touch stone. Quickly opening the cash bag, he deposited the fees he had taken from the shippers. Closing the safe with more force than necessary, he turned back to his desk, slamming the clipboard of papers that he had gathered during the shipment down on his desk, then plopped into his chair. Quickly he began to sort them into small stacks. ¡°How anybody can stand to be a shepherd...¡±


    ¡°Touchstone containment costs money,¡± Thornfield said, looking up at the younger dragonkin, with a look between a scowl and a smirk. He marked his page and removing his feet, he placed the book on the desk. ¡°Farmers usually don¡¯t have much to spare to keep shipping clerks and freight loads from smelling barnyard smells.¡±


    Umber thumbed through the receipts he had gathered. ¡°Wool and wheat and pigs. A crate of embroideries headed to Ynys Afel. A table and eight chairs going to the White Isle. Three crates of dried fruits. Someone sending wedding supplies to Waterford on Glint. Vegetable seeds to Harani, of all places. I¡¯m shocked anything that they grow here can grow there. Oh, and a pallet of scrap metal. What a base of production we have here . Now it¡¯s Waterford on Glint¡¯s problem. ¡±


    Thornfield leaned back in his chair once again, but kept his feet on the ground. He guffawed. ¡°It¡¯s a rural area. Didn¡¯t you learn any economics when you were in your creche school? This place produces food and fiber, mostly. Most of the land around here belongs to the Allyns, or it¡¯s part of Cullin¡¯s Forest, and nobody¡¯s going to mine or lumber or build in those woods. That¡¯s why there¡¯s nobody from the big mercantile or exploration clans here. If there was anything they could milk for profit directly, you know they¡¯d have storefronts or factories here. Too rural. Just dragonkin working at the Dragon Web office. That¡¯s the way it is most of An Lar.¡± The older dragonkin¡¯s eyes lit up as he warmed to his subject, and Umber could feel the start of a long lecture coming on.


    He tried to disrupt Thornfield¡¯s train of thought. ¡°Not that way in Harani.¡± Not looking at his supervisor¡¯s face, he carefully noted the price of goods shipped on each form into a ledger, and then stamped the paperwork.


    Thornfield was not the least ready to be disrupted. ¡°Harani¡¯s a whole different world. Mining, exotic metal work, rare spices, and all the goods coming down from the Gray Mountains and the Lost Lands beyond. Plenty of profit, and not many Daoine noble houses to get in the way. And the climate ¨C it¡¯s almost like Sunderland. It¡¯s no wonder there are a lot of Dragonkin there. ¡±


    ¡°True,¡± Umber said, nodding. He had learned it worked better if he let Thornfield know he was paying at least some attention when he was wound up like this.


    ¡°Compare that to where we¡¯re at,¡± Thornfield continued. ¡°Goblin Market¡¯s just a small market town between Waterford by Glint and Meridae on the other side of the forest. Meridae does a lot of business down south, and has direct connections to most of the major trade hubs, two or three a day, passenger and freight . Two different trade houses have businesses there, and there¡¯s a financial house, too. Making high grade touch stones can do that to a region. Goblin Market only has a once a week direct freight connection to most of those, and I have heard talk about them wanting to cut some of those direct hops down to two a month. Just basic economics. Any Dragonkin ought to know that type of pattern.¡±


    ¡°My family was a family of investigators,¡± Umber muttered, filing away his documents. ¡°They sent me to school to join the DIC, not to join a trade guild. I didn¡¯t pay much attention to profit making. I was learning forensics.¡±


    ¡°I knew you were a strange one, Umber,¡± Thornfield said. ¡°Dragonkin who don¡¯t care about profit ¨C now that¡¯s almost a¡­¡±


    Whatever Thornfield was about to say was interrupted by a knock at the office door. Even before he could respond, the door opened up and Lana, the blue dragonkin who was actually nice to Umber, walked in with an envelop e with bright red lettering. Thornfield looked at her, somewhat perplexed.


    ¡°Sorry sir,¡± Lana said. ¡°This just came in over the message desk marked urgent.¡±


    ¡°Urgent?¡± the older dragonkin asked.


    She nodded. ¡°The address says it¡¯s from DIC headquarters.¡±


    Handing it to a bemused Thornfield, she turned and left, but not before giving Umber a small wink and smile.


    Thornfield pulled it open, and read it with his bemused look never changing. Umber, burning with curiosity continued to look down at his paperwork, just to make sure he didn¡¯t make some reaction that would send Thornfield down another bombastic spiel.


    Finally, the older dragonkin man put the paper down on his desk. His forehead spikes glowed a little with nervousness. ¡°Go put your best uniform on, Umber. We¡¯re about to have a visit by a real bigwig.¡±


    ¡°A bigwig?¡± Umber asked.


    ¡°I would say so. Gabbro Byrony. Second after the Master Investigator himself.¡± Thornfield sounded nervous, perhaps even a little intimidated.


    ¡° But why?¡± Umber asked.


    ¡°It didn¡¯t say,¡± Thornfield said. ¡°But any visit by people at level¡­¡± He took a deep breath, and a note of almost panic cre pt into his voice. ¡°What if...what if they want to move me back to Sunderland?¡±


    <hr>


    ¡°Oldest?¡±


    The Oldest sat in the garden, on a mat, surrounded by the others of the inner circle of the White Guard.


    It was still cool, like it got in the early days of the third month. The inner circle were still in their white robes, and three of them had an extra blanket pulled close around their shoulders. Sammisa, the lake woman with green hair and a intolerance to cold, had another nearby, just in case. A few of them had their hoods pulled up, but not everybody, because this was their enclave and all these in the garden with the Oldest were marked and known. Another group, more than the white robes wore the grey of Magic Guard acolytes, joining in as part of their training, and these made an outer circle around them. Wearing the robes of their order for this exercise was intentional; part of it was to feel like a unified force. Outside of the enclave, out of the chapter house, and especially off the White Isle, they became individual, lesser. But here in the circle, they felt part of a force, something guiding the world forward. Which exactly what the Oldest was trying to encourage, and sometimes use. She called this the discipline


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    Currently, they were linked in the discipline, breathing as one, focused on tapping into the magic that kept them focused on their protection of the realm, that could at times link themselves into something bigger than the individual. When linked like this they were a unit, a sword, a knife that could cut through anything. It took much practice to join this way. When used as a weapon in the Oldest¡¯s hands, it could be devastating.


    But at the sound of the voice, the Oldest opened her eyes. The moment was broken, the joining shattered, and the one fell into the many. Two of the members, less skilled in the technique, groaned. An acolyte had fainted. But sometimes, things could not be helped.


    ¡°Oldest, you asked me to contact you when the Youngest returned. I am sorry for disrupting.¡±


    The disruptor was Ethne, the Oldest¡¯s secretary, who at this moment bowed apologetically.


    ¡°It¡¯s important enough, Ethne. That¡¯s what I wanted you to do, even during the discipline.¡± The Oldest stood up, her silver-gold hair falling in a long cascade down her back and almost to her knees as she stood. She shook briefly, picked up her mat, something the others were beginning to do themselves.


    ¡°I left her in your reception room,¡± Ethne said. ¡°Would you like me to bring you some tea?¡±


    ¡°Excellent,¡± the Oldest replied. She turned to her circle members.¡°Ruell, Haran, Sammisa? Come join me, please. Everybody else, you may return to your duties. I recommend that you acolytes take a walk in the gardens first. Feel how it feels to have your concentration broken that way, and learn how to sort away the after effects of the magical residue.¡±


    She and the three she had called for dropped their meditation mats off in the bin for them, then headed inside.


    Arriane sat quietly in a chair in the reception room, staring at the fireplace, where a small fire, just enough to drive off the early spring chill burned. She had taken the time to put on her robe. The gold spilling out of the edges of her drawn up hood said it had been drawn up hastily.


    Ruell and Haran took seats near her, and the Oldest sat in an easy chair that faced the three.


    ¡°So you have returned, Youngest. How was your visit?¡±


    ¡°My sister was rather happy to see me. I know she¡¯s missing Gweir. She tells me he¡¯s been out of touch for awhile, involved in some special training.¡±


    The Oldest nodded. At that moment, Ethne came in with a pot of tea and a tray of small cakes.


    ¡°I have to admit,¡± Ruell said, taking a cup from Ethne, ¡°I am always ready for this after the discipline.¡±


    ¡°Just so,¡± Ethne replied. ¡°I always have plenty made up. More so in winter sessions than summer.¡±


    The Youngest accepted the tea, but not a cake. She had spent the morning going through the Dragon Web instead of sitting on the cold ground, and had eaten too many of the treats Elaine had sent home with her.


    Everybody served, Ethne left the room.


    ¡°So did you meet your sister¡¯s friend?¡±


    Arriane nodded. ¡°I did indeed. I can see why Elaine kept in touch with her all these years. She is a very kindly person, and from what I understand, all the pixies at Pixie Hollow adore her. The day before my sister sent a work party there, I slipped over to her place and watched them. They flock around her, and she feeds them. She has even managed to befriend a local Tree Shepherd, one who has a bad reputation for being unfriendly to anybody who is not a tree or who shouldn¡¯t live in his forest. His forest is next to her homestead. From what I¡¯ve heard, he already came over for a meal, and she hasn¡¯t been there two weeks.


    ¡°That¡¯s rather impressive. That¡¯s Cullin of Cullin¡¯s Forest, isn¡¯t it?¡± Ruell asked. He took a bite of one of the cakes, and made a happy face at the taste of it.


    ¡°Yes. It was the first time I had seen him since I was a small child. I think it surprised him that I had grown up.¡±


    ¡°Cullin¡¯s sense of time is not like most of ours,¡± the Oldest said, nodding. ¡°It¡¯s nice that she¡¯s managed to make some progress with him.¡±


    ¡°You know Cullin?¡± Arriane asked, surprised at the Oldest¡¯s familiarity with him.


    ¡°Since he was a small child orphaned during the Sundering,¡± the Oldest said. ¡°You could say I fostered him for a few years.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I didn¡¯t know he was that old,¡± Arriane said. ¡°Nobody in my family talks much about him unless someone gets hit with his stink mud.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard about that,¡± Sammisa said. She had her hands wrapped around the tea cup, trying to warm her hands. ¡°I hear it¡¯s really nasty, and takes forever to fade. One of the waiting ladies in Ynys Afel got splattered once, not on purpose ¨C she wasn¡¯t the target, but still caught some. She ended up burning her dress.¡±


    ¡°Impressive,¡± Haran said.


    ¡°I got the impression from my sister that her friend Gan had met Cullin as a small child. Her people had gotten burned out in the Great Fire that burned on the south side of his forest, but before that, he had been a visitor at her parents house.¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± Samissa said, taking a sip of her tea. ¡°So she knows at least a little something of his ways.¡±


    ¡°Evidently,¡± Arriane said.


    ¡°So,¡± the Oldest said. ¡°Let¡¯s think back to what the seer told us at Brightening Day. ¡® A scholar with no school approaches. You will know her by a cloud of lights innocent as day dancing in the sun that will surround her. She searches for the missing, trapped, trapped by a lie, trapped by greed. Brown hides behind black, black behind brown, confusing all. She will be given a key. Use it wisely, but beware the price.¡¯ Gan Thistleberry is definitely a scholar with no school.¡±


    ¡°She was headmistress of the younger grades at Comrie,¡± Ruell noted. He snagged another of the sweet cakes off the tray.


    ¡°She¡¯s more than that,¡± the Oldest said. She sipped her tea. ¡°She¡¯s an expert at Domestic Magic, and has written a number of papers. The Goosequills have been after her for years to come here and take a position at their chapter house, but she chose not to.¡± She looked deeply into her cup. ¡°A scholar with no school, because the Redwing Clan decided to take over the school she taught at, and their choice of headmaster didn¡¯t like her.¡±


    ¡°That sounds rather stupid,¡± Haran said.


    ¡°Clan politics often is,¡± the Oldest said, nodding. ¡°She¡¯s evidently been surrounded by a large cluster of pixies who are happy to have her with them. ¡®A cloud of lights innocent as the day dancing in the sun.¡¯ That could be an apt description.¡±


    ¡°Maybe,¡± said Ruell. ¡°If you don¡¯t mind pixie dust.¡±


    Sammisa giggled at that one. ¡°They¡¯re small, a bit daft, and never intentionally hurt anybody, and their magic is only defensive glamour. Pretty innocent as things go on An Lar.¡±


    ¡°She searches for the missing...could that refer to her old headmaster?¡± Arriane asked. ¡°My sister told me she tried very hard to get the DIC or anybody else to investigate his disappearance.¡±


    The Oldest nodded. ¡°It is possible. But what¡¯s this black and brown business? Does anybody have any idea? And what about the key mentioned?¡±


    The group fell silent.


    ¡°Not in the least,¡± Ruell said at last.


    ¡°Well, she has a good chance at being the person the seer saw. Mistress Thistleberry probably has no idea she could be the fulcrum for something important. I think we need to keep a watch on her at least for her own protection. If we¡¯re wrong, it¡¯s not a problem. If we¡¯re right, we might prevent something dreadful. It¡¯s not a good thing, usually, to be the person at the center of a seeing.¡± The Oldest sighed. ¡°There¡¯s so much happening behind the scenes this year. I¡¯d hate for anything to happen to her just because we got overwhelmed. And we really might this time around.¡±


    The seriousness of her tone sunk into the group.


    ¡°It¡¯s just so far in the country,¡± Sammisa said. ¡°What excuse could we use to bring one of our people there? Or rotate a group of people in and out?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a good point. Could we set something up with Allynswood, or maybe at Goblin Market?¡± Ruell asked.


    ¡°She has offered to tutor my youngest brother his last year before going away for his official schooling,¡± Arriane said after a moment. ¡°And she has offered to give me lessons in her form of practical magic.¡±


    The Oldest looked up at that.


    ¡°I think you should,¡± the Oldest said.


    ¡°Really?¡± Arriane asked.


    ¡°Think of it like our discipline, but useful to a single person. Everything we teach can be traced back to that type of magic. And you need no devices, no touchstones, wands, magic bowls, or other technology to work most of it. Gan is one of the better at it. Besides, she likes to teach. And it will help us keep tabs on things going on around the area. A member of your family checking on things would not trigger anybody¡¯s suspicions.¡±


    Arriane nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll make the arrangements, then.¡±


    ¡°Let me know when you¡¯re leaving,¡± the Oldest said. ¡°All right, I guess we go back to work then. Ruell, are you ready to go to Tantis?¡±


    The group began to exit out. But before he could leave, the Oldest grabbed Haran by the sleeve.


    ¡°Make sure to fit her out with a jump stone for back here. I hope she¡¯ll never need it, but better safe than sorry.¡±


    Nodding, he made his exit.

 Day 2 of the Warming Month, Continued

    Chapter 27


    Our tales are woven through with the tales of the cruel sister, the greedy brother, the heartless mother, the vicious father. All seem to have the upper hand until The Event happens. What that event is, is different in every story, every tale, but what the event signals is the moment that the weakened party, the abused sister, the brother who is kicked out of hearth and home, the child who is abused, decides to do the right action in spite of being poor, or abused, or lied about. And in the end, their right action leads them to overcome all obstacles and rise to the highest places.


    Alas, justice in real life is not always served that way, but we do learn through our stories, that this is what we should aim for ¨C to be kind and caring, to be fair and honest, steadfast, loyal and willing to put up with much.


    Learn what the stories tell you, children. You¡¯ll be much better people for it.


    Small Tales of the Past for Young Minds ¨C   Sharai Bluebottle of the Alder Branches


    At the Dragon Web station in Goblin Market, there was a hush over the waiting room in front of the VIP area. Only a half dozen people were there, most of them there to secure and clean the incoming carriage, but as the clanking noise and bell that announced the arrival of the VIP carriage sounded, and the attendants hurried to secure the carriage and open the door, a collective breath was taken by two of the people who were waiting.


    ¡°Well here we go,¡± said Thornfield Witstone, brushing an invisible bit of dust off his seldom worn formal uniform, all red serge with gold buttons and shiny trim. It¡¯d been a while since he had cared for his outfit, and the buttons and trims weren¡¯t as shiny as they should have been, and even a spot or two of tarnish were visible. He hunched forward a little as he waited, in part because he was taller than most investigators, having come from a different clan. There was no way he could pass for one of the regular investigator clans. Even his brown scales weren¡¯t designed for the colors of his outfit. And because of the lateness of the announcement, he hadn¡¯t had time to press the jacket of his uniform and it hung a little awkwardly over its frame. His left wing twitched, where the jacket rubbed a little. His anxiety about what this meeting meant were high, and his male head spikes glowed with his nervousness.


    Standing next to him was Umber, properly small and gray like a true investigator of the old bloodlines should look. Umber¡¯s uniform fit him immaculately. Also red serge, each piece of metal ornament adorning it glinted with polish, and it had been properly tailored to fit him. His wings lay properly folded on his back, and his eyes and head spikes radiated with a different emotion ¨C excitement.


    ¡°I¡¯ve always wanted to talk to Byrony Gabbro,¡± he said. ¡°He¡¯s been one of my heroes for years.¡±


    ¡°Just don¡¯t embarrass us with your hero worship,¡± Thornfield said. ¡°I don¡¯t want to get transferred because you made him unhappy.¡±


    The door opened up, and out strode two dragonkin dressed in the black uniforms of the DIC enforcers, the closest the Dragonkin had to military, sword at their hips. Each flanked one side of the doorway. After them, another Dragonkin strolled out, wearing the emerald green uniform of DIC administrators. A small coterie of other dragonkin in a mix of black and red uniforms followed behind him.


    Thornfield and Umber saluted as he stepped out.


    ¡°What brings us the honor of your visit today, sir?¡± Thornfield asked, a small tremor in his voice. ¡°We would have done more if we knew you were coming.¡±


    Byrony looked at the two dragonkin in front of him. His eyes didn¡¯t linger on Thornfield very long, but he paused at Umber.


    ¡°You¡¯re a Madrona, aren¡¯t you? You wouldn¡¯t be the son of Ishtan Madrona, would you?¡±


    Umber went at full attention. ¡°Yes sir. That was my father, sir.¡±


    ¡°We lost a good man when we lost him. I¡¯d worked with him a few times, and he was always an exemplar as a DIC. I know your uncle as well. I had heard his nephew had just graduated. And here you are.¡±


    Thornfield gave the younger man a surprised glance. ¡°He knows who you are?¡± he whispered.


    ¡°Thank you, sir,¡± Umber said, ignoring Thornfield. ¡°My uncle has always spoken well of you, sir.¡±


    The attitude of Thornfield did not escape Byrony¡¯s notice.


    ¡°At ease, men. Let¡¯s head to your office. I¡¯m on a bit of a mission, and I¡¯d like to talk to you in someplace a little more private.¡± He turned to the rest of his followers. ¡°You enjoy the lounge here. I¡¯ll be back in a few minutes. Cardin, Rushin, you can follow me.¡±


    Thornfield swallowed hard, took a deep breath, then led Byrony and Umber and the two guards through the station to the DIC office. They were basically ignored by the Goblin Market locals doing their own business, but all eyes of the employees followed them as they headed for the office. Standing at attention, the guards stayed outside while the three men entered.


    Thornfield¡¯s desk papers and his stash of novels had been quickly assigned to a box under his desk once they had the news, so his half of the room was a bit more presentable than usual.


    ¡°Sorry about how small the space is, sir. Goblin Market is just a little station, and we don¡¯t get much business.¡±


    ¡°Except for transport fees and paperwork. I started in a station like this,¡± Byrony said, nodding. ¡°No need to apologize.¡±


    Umber offered Byrony the best chair in the office, then leaned against the edge of his desk. ¡°I¡¯ll have to write my uncle and tell him I got to meetyou, sir,¡± he said. ¡°He¡¯ll be pleased to hear what you said about my father.¡±


    Thornfield winced at the sound of hero worship in Umber¡¯s voice. He quickly broke in. ¡°Would you like something, sir? Tea?¡± he asked. His hands almost shook as he got ready to ring for service.


    ¡°No,¡± Byrony said. He looked at Thornfield with amused eyes. ¡°I won¡¯t be here that long. I¡¯ve hit almost every Dragon Web office between Willowick and here the last couple of days, and I don¡¯t think I could hold another drop of tea.¡±


    Umber smiled, then dropped his head, suddenly aware of Thornfield¡¯s reaction. He could already hear the lecture he knew his supervisor was going to give him once the VIP visit was over.


    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    ¡°So how can we be of help to you?¡± Thornfield asked.


    ¡°I would like to borrow young Madrona here a few days,¡± Byrony said.


    ¡°Borrow?¡± Umber said, his voice a whisper between hope and shock.


    The brown Dragonkin¡¯s eyes opened wide. ¡°Borrow?¡±


    Byrony nodded. ¡°Alas, one of my men got sick, and I had to leave him at Meridae. The assignment I¡¯m on shouldn¡¯t be more than a week. I know that¡¯ll leave you shorthanded, but -¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s no problem!¡± Thornfield said, interrupting. Suddenly all the nervousness he had been showing evaporated. His smile grew large and toothy. ¡°Take him! Take him for as long as you need! I¡¯ll make due. After all, I held down the station for six months before he got here.¡± The bell announcing the next carriage sounded. Thornfield jumped out of his chair. ¡°I¡¯ll go get that! Be right back!¡± And he barrelled out of the door.


    Umber looked at the door, rather amazed by the last few minutes. He drew a deep breath, then turned to look at Byrony, his face moving back and forth between amazement and shock. ¡°You...you really want me to go with you, Sir?¡±


    Byrony gave the young dragonkin a kind smile. ¡°I do indeed. I know I would have jumped at the chance when I was in my first year. First years are...¡±


    ¡°Where the DIC weeds out those who really want to be inspectors from those who only think they do,¡± Umber said.


    ¡°Quoting the manual at me?¡± Byrony chuckled. ¡°Which are you, son?¡±


    ¡°Being an inspector was all I ever wanted to be, sir,¡± Umber said, lifting his head up high.


    ¡°Your father would be proud,¡± the older Dragonkin said. ¡°Go pack your things. Sooner we can get out of here, the better. Let Thornfield go back to his novels and his feet on the desk.¡±


    Umber looked at him, surprised. ¡°You knew he did that?¡±


    ¡°The DIC never stops investigating, Umber. Even sometimes, our own people. Now go on, and learn there¡¯s more to the DIC than checking papers and collecting transport fees.¡±


    ¡°Yes sir!¡± Umber said, and hurried to get his things.


    While Umber was hurrying to pack, Thornhill grabbed the clipboard for the carriage arrival and went to meet the incoming carriage. ¡°Thank goodness for real work,¡± Thornfield said, as he went to receiving area and as far away from Gabbro¡¯s people as he could go.


    The carriage was the daily transport from Waterford on Glint, a local. As the porters brought out the express merchandise, not a lot, just some goods for the local bookseller and a case of speciality foodstuffs for the grocer, he marked their paperwork done. Then the passengers trickled out ¨C a woman wearing the uniform of the Alder Branches, with hood pulled up over her face. Her paperwork stated she was here to teach at the local school. The next was a travelling vendor wheeling out a massive case, who hoped to sell goods to the local shopkeepers before heading down the King¡¯s Highway to sell to the various villages on this side of Cullin¡¯s Forest, and one last passenger, with a Spriggan porter behind her, carrying a large trunk.


    ¡°Lady Allyns,¡± Thornfield said, bowing a little. ¡°I thought you just returned to the White Island. You¡¯re back already?¡±


    Arriane gave him a polite, if not warm smile, and nodded, looking around the room for someone she didn¡¯t see. ¡°I went back, and my school decided to send me right back to do some research.¡± She chuckled a little, bringing her hand to her face, covering her lips. As a sound, it didn¡¯t have much warmth.


    ¡°Is there anything I can do for you, Lady? Hire you a carriage, send a message to your sister?¡± he asked.


    ¡°No, no,¡± Arriane said. ¡°I¡¯m sure my sister¡¯s carriage is out there waiting for me. I don¡¯t see the other person, Umber, out here today? I was hoping to say hello to him.¡±


    ¡°Ah, I¡¯m afraid he¡¯s a bit busy right now, Lady,¡± Thornfield said. ¡°One of our supervisors came by, and he¡¯s ¡®borrowing¡¯ him for a few days on a special assignment.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± Arriane said. ¡°If you see him before I do, tell him I said hello.¡± She motioned to the porter carrying her trunk, and together, the two headed to the front of the building.


    <hr>


    Sael Havron looked at the group of men in front of him, examining each and every face. Eighteen of them, they were not dressed in the typical uniforms of the King¡¯s Guard. Instead, they wore clothes typical of the various races and clans of Ynys Afel, robes and tunics and cloaks, each carrying a sword at the hip, knives on the belt, and a few had bows. Each of them wore an elaborate gauntlet on their left hand, studded with a series of stones. The effect was at once casual and threatening, like a gang of mercenaries or smugglers, instead of the group of highly trained, disciplined troops in the Redsticks way of training that they had arrived here as.


    At a signal from Gweir Blackthorn, their captain, they fell into ranks, and a ghost of their old training snapped them back into place.


    ¡°You chose well, Gweir,¡± Sael said. ¡°It¡¯s not every bunch of recruits that the Birch can get away from the Hawk that can handle the training we do with such a high success rate. Learning to use the gauntlet without frying your mind or hurting the people on your team takes a certain discipline, and you only lost two who weren¡¯t up to the challenge.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, sir,¡± Gweir said, nodding. ¡°It was a shame about Rictor and Garin, though.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯ll do fine in their new assignments. Still working for the Birch. Not everybody has to be out in the field to make a difference.¡± He gave an encouraging pat to Gweir on the shoulder. ¡°Now comes the real test. We¡¯re going to put our training to use,¡± Sael said. ¡°I received a message from the Birch. We¡¯ve got an assignment.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± Gweir said. ¡°We¡¯re ready.¡±


    ¡°I know it,¡± said Sael. He stepped forward and addressed the men in front of him.


    ¡°You have all done well, men. And tomorrow, we¡¯re going to put all that hard work to use.¡± He gave a grin, a rather hungry, wicked look. ¡°The Birch has a job for us! Are you ready to show me what you can do?¡±


    A loud ¡°Yes sir!¡± ran through the squad.


    ¡°Today, get your things together. Relax. At dawn, we¡¯re heading out.¡±


    <hr>


    Totally unaware of the activity about to sweep up Elaine¡¯s husband Gweir, or the fact that the White Circle were wondering if she had a role to play in the upcoming events and had sent Arriane home to keep a watch over her, Gan only knew that she missed her pixies.


    It had been four days since the Pixies had dashed off, and even with the bright and repaired condition of her house and gardens and barn, Gan was lonely for her little friends.


    She thought Arne would be the first back, having something of a reputation for bravery in the little pixie clan, and she had been outlook for him. She baked apple pie and left it on the windowsill to cool, and made a delicious stew of cabbage and bacon and beans and onions, letting it cook on the outside fire to tempt them back, and baked a great loaf of white bread, a smell pixies f ound almost irresist i ble, but instead of being mobbed by the wee folk, the only one who showed up at first was Gilly.


    ¡°Pie?¡± asked the tiny woman hovering near where it was cooling.


    ¡°Oh yes, and bread, too, and stew.¡± Gan took the lid off the pot and gave it a good stir, letting the good smell of her food waft in the air.


    ¡°That smells so good. I haven¡¯t had a good meal since the big meanies came in with all that nasty stuff.¡±


    ¡°Well they¡¯re good and gone. No more Ixip. I told Lady Elaine that,¡± Gan replied. ¡°Where are the rest of the pixies? Are they coming back?¡± she said, dishing some of the stew in a saucer for the pixie.


    ¡°Well, Moxie is waiting until the very last bits of that nasty stuff get out of the air,¡± Gilly said. ¡°She¡¯s a little afraid it¡¯ll make her sick. And Arne went over to Redrock, you know where there¡¯s that spring next to the big red rock on the road to Goblin Market.¡± She ate a bit of bread crust, then used it as a spoon to eat a bite of stew. Talking in a conspiratorial whisper to the big woman, she said, ¡°There¡¯s another clan of pixies over there, who live next to the rock. I think Arne has a girlfriend over there. He¡¯s always finding an excuse to go over there. Moxie¡¯s going to be so angry when she finds out.¡±


    ¡°Find out what?¡± Another pixie, Fergus, no doubt following the scent, dropped in, landing on the table. ¡°My, my, that looks good. Bread and soup?¡±


    Mistress Gan handed him a bit of bread, and he sat down next to Gilly.


    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t you like to know about Arne¡¯s new girlfriend by Redrock!¡± Gilly said, then realizing what she said, clasped a hand over her mouth. ¡°Did I just say that?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid so,¡± Gan said.


    ¡°Tell me all about it,¡± said an enraged Moxie dropped down from a nearby tree. ¡°Tell me all about it.¡±


    A s if they heard the noise, Rufus and Dahlia, Rosebud and Bu, Hilby and Cowslip and more popped in, relishing both the bread and the gossip, making Moxie even madder. Poor Arne, when he finally made an appearance was summarily pushed off the table by Moxie. He landed in Mistress Gan¡¯s lap.


    ¡°What...what did I do?¡± he asked.


    Gan handed him a piece of bread. ¡°Got here after the rumors,¡± she said.


    Standing up, Gan got some more saucers out of the house and began dipping up soup for all of them. ¡°Ah, my little pixies,¡± she said. ¡°I have truly missed you. Things are always more interesting when you¡¯re around.¡±

 Day 4 of the Warming Month

    Chapter 28


    It became clear after the Sundering that there were goods that the Shadowlanders desperately needed, and goods the Sunlit people wanted just as badly. We were bound by our concord with Ynys Afel not to set up Dragon Web stations in the Shadowlands directly. Three gateways at the Boundary were proposed where the people could exchange merchandise: Greshold¡¯s Keep, Timeria north of it, and Zarusis to the south. Greshold¡¯s Keep was built first. It cost so much in magic and minds to punch the hole in the Boundary for the gate, that the other gateways were abandoned, much to the sadness of the locals.


    It took years for the trade concords to be agreed to, what trade was acceptable to both sides. Endless rounds of diplomatic dinners, teas and court missions finally settled on a list of goods both sides could agree to, major trade goods like black silk and medicinal herds. It was a long and hard process.


    But as soon as the agreement was made, another problem began to rise. All sorts of goods that would have been perfect acceptable trade items, nothing that either Shadow Landers or the Sunlit would be harmed by but were not on the agreements, began to trickle in. They were often paid for with goods like proscribed drugs. It destabilized the trade communities near the Border and further inland on both sides.


    A Sunlit noble of a minor region not far from Greshold¡¯s Keep came up with the solution. Sanctioned smuggling, Theodias Redbeard called it. Each side would sanction a fixed number of traders who would be allowed to ship goods that were not on the list, which meant endlessly fewer diplomatic meetings to have over each new fad.


    It was a stroke of genius for the House of Redbeard. Even after the Brightwater Massacre, they remain one of the most profitable of Ynys Afel noble houses.


    Let that be a lesson to you, young Dragonkin! Where there¡¯s a will, profit will out!


    From No-Space to Everywhere by Flysch Graben   , cofounder of Briarwood and Flysch


    It took a couple of days for the pixies the ixip chased off to come home. Gan had thought Arne would be the first back, having something of a reputation for bravery in the little pixie clan, and she had been outlook for him soon as the work party finally left.


    After two days of being left totally alone, she woke up and decided to do something about it. Smoke poured out of the newly refurbished kitchen fireplace as she she baked apple pie. Nobody came to investigate it. So she moved a table outside to set it on to cool.


    Her next step accelerated the attack, and she set up a stew pot near the table in front of her house and made a delicious soup of cabbage and bacon and beans and onions, opening the lid often to tempt them back. While it was cooking, she baked a great loaf of white bread, a smell pixies found almost irresistible. It worked, a little, once she brought the fresh bread outside to cool on the work table she had set up, but instead of being mobbed by the wee folk, the only one who showed up at first was Gilly.


    ¡°Pie?¡± asked the tiny woman hovering over the golden crust. ¡°I love pie!¡±


    ¡°Oh yes, and bread, too, and stew.¡± Gan took the lid off the pot and gave it a good stir, letting the good smell of her food waft in the air once again. ¡°It¡¯s just about ready.¡±


    ¡°That smells so good. I haven¡¯t had a good meal since the big meanies came in with all that nasty stuff.¡±


    ¡°Well they¡¯re good and gone. No more ixip. I told Lady Elaine that,¡± Gan replied. ¡°Where are the rest of the pixies? Are they coming back?¡± she said, dishing some of the soup in a saucer for the pixie.


    ¡°Well, Moxie is waiting until the very last bits of that nasty stuff get out of the air,¡± Gilly said, sniffing the soup with great approval. ¡°She¡¯s a little afraid it¡¯ll make her sick. And Arne went over to Redrock, you know where there¡¯s that spring next to the big red rock on the road to Goblin Market.¡± She ate a bit of bread crust, then used it as a spoon to eat a bite of soup. Talking in a conspiratorial whisper to the big woman, she said, ¡°There¡¯s another clan of pixies over there, who live next to the rock. I think Arne has a girlfriend there. He¡¯s always finding an excuse to go. Moxie¡¯s going to be so angry when she finds out.¡±


    ¡°Find out what?¡± Another pixie, Fergus, no doubt following the scent, dropped in, landing on the table. ¡°My, my, that looks good. Bread and soup?¡±


    Mistress Gan handed him a bit of bread, and he sat down next to Gilly.


    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t you like to know about Arne¡¯s new girlfriend by Redrock!¡± Gilly said, then realizing what she said, clasped a hand over her mouth. ¡°Did I just say that?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid so,¡± Gan said. She gave the little pixie a sad smile.


    ¡°Tell me all about it,¡± said an enraged Moxie dropped down from a nearby tree. ¡°Tell me all about it.¡±


    As if they heard the noise, Rufus and Dahlia, Rosebud and Bu, Hilby and Cowslip and more popped in, relishing both the bread and the gossip, making Moxie even madder. Poor Arne, when he finally made an appearance was summarily pushed off the table by Moxie. He landed in Mistress Gan¡¯s lap.


    ¡°What...what did I do?¡± he asked.


    Gan handed him a piece of bread. ¡°Got here after the rumors,¡± she said. ¡°Did you go to Redrock?¡±


    ¡°Why would I?¡± he asked. ¡°I spent all day yesterday trying to get Morvran to give me a feather.¡±


    ¡°Any luck?¡± Gan asked.


    He held up a small black feather. ¡°Caught him when he was talking to Leila.¡±


    ¡°Gilly!¡± Moxie said and a new chase began.


    Laughing as she went, Gan got some more saucers out of the house and began dipping up soup for all of them. ¡°Ah, my little pixies,¡± she said. ¡°I have truly missed you. Things are always more interesting when you¡¯re around.¡±


    As Gan fed the growing crowd of pixies, two people rode up the pathway that led to the King¡¯s highway. The pixies, far more interested in food and Moxie¡¯s wrath, paid them no mind, but Gan did.


    ¡°Arriane!¡± she said, as the two drew near. ¡°I thought you had gone home to the White Island.¡±


    ¡°I did!¡± the younger women said, dismounting. ¡°But now I¡¯m back.¡± She handled the reins to the young man who had ridden with her. ¡°Oh, the pixies are here!¡±


    Gilly flew over to her, glad to be out of Moxie¡¯s reach and landed on her hair. ¡°You were with the meanies who chased us away! They aren¡¯t coming back already, are they?¡±


    ¡°No, no. It¡¯s just me and Rob. But I didn¡¯t do the chasing,¡± Arriane said, her eyes rolling up trying to see who was talking to it. ¡°I just came with them to meet Mistress Gan.¡±


    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Seamus, still holding a crust of bread in his hand, flew over. ¡°Can you cook?¡± he asked, taking a bite of the bread while hovering in front of her.


    ¡°Alas, not very well,¡± Arriane said, amused. ¡°My nanny never let me get near the kitchen very often.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a shame,¡± Seamus said. ¡°Cooking is the best magic.¡± He finished the bread and wiped his face on his sleeve.


    ¡°Seamus, think of something besides your tummy,¡± Gilly admonished, before flitting off of Arriane¡¯s head, giving him a little shove. ¡°That¡¯s rude!¡±


    Rosebud floated over to the three of them. ¡°Your hair is so pretty.¡± She lifted up a couple of strands. ¡°I wish I could have a whole dress made of it.¡±


    Dahlia butted in. ¡°Hair dresses itch. Had one once.¡± She flew up in front of Arriane¡¯s nose. ¡°Do you like pixies?¡±


    ¡°I think so,¡± she said, smiling at the little woman. ¡°I think you are the first pixies I ever talked to. I like you! Is that good enough?¡±


    ¡°She likes us!¡± Dahlia said, hurrying back to Gan and the food. ¡°Did you hear her? She likes us!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not surprised,¡± Gan said, fishing Rosebud out of her soup saucer.


    ¡°What¡¯s not to like?¡± Arne said, stuffing his mouth with soup and bread.


    More pixies ¨C Bu and Cowslip and Hillsy ¨C beelined it over to the younger woman and began to examine Arriane¡¯s hair and dress and gloves. Bu crawled under her freeflowing hair.


    ¡°Ooh, that tickles,¡± Arriane said.


    Rob, uncomfortable around the little feys, and still on horseback, turned the collar of his livery jacket up.


    Having portioned out enough soup and bread to feed the whole tribe, looked up and saw the mobbing going on over Arriane. ¡°Enough of that,¡± Gan said, hurrying over to rescue her guests. ¡°Pixies are welcome here, and Lady Arriane is welcome, too. And so are you, Rob Woodway. Do you need a place to put your horses? Are you hungry? Would you like some tea? What can I do for you?¡±


    The pixies, almost reluctantly, backed off.


    ¡°Sorry, Ma¡¯am,¡± Rob said. ¡°Lady Elaine just had be ride as Lady Arriane¡¯s groom today.¡±


    ¡°We can¡¯t stay long,¡± Arriane said, nodding. ¡°My sister asked me to have you drop by to discuss starting tutoring lessons for my nephew, and me too.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t think you were that interested? It can be a lot of work.¡± Gan said, surprised.


    ¡°My advisor at the White Circle told me that if you were willing, I should take those lessons you were talking about. She told me that practical magics were the basis for what they teach there, and you were one of the best masters of practicals, especially domestics, and I¡¯d be a fool not to jump at the chance. She sent me right back.¡±


    Arriane gave Gan a beautific smile, heavily laden with her own glamour. The effect hit the pixies hard. Before she finished speaking, she had a crown of six of them on the top of her head.


    Gan, on the other hand, felt a large twinge of feeling like there was more going on than Arriane was telling her, having been hustled by a countless number of children over the years who were trying to butter her up while hiding their real motivations. Still, she knew they had discussed this, and she could read not the slightest bit of malice in the young woman.


    ¡°How about tomorrow afternoon?¡± Gan said. ¡°Tell Edylken I¡¯ll bring the tea cakes.¡±


    Arriane raised one eyebrow at that one. ¡°You¡¯re a brave woman, Gan Thistleberry, to take on Edylken on tea time edibles!¡± she said. ¡°But oh, we¡¯ll all get to eat the results of the war this is going to cause. I¡¯ll be sure to mention it!¡±


    Laughing, she remounted her horse. ¡°Until, tomorrow!¡±


    The two rode off back to the King¡¯s Highway. Gan took that moment to cut the apple pie she had made, and all the pixies gathered close, rather than following Arriane as she left. Right as they reached the end of the property, Arriane stopped and dismounted.


    ¡°Is there a problem?¡± Rob asked.


    ¡°Just got a rock in my shoe,¡± she said, leaning against the fence. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine once I get it out.¡±


    She took off her boot, and made a big show of emptying it out. He shrugged and looked down the road. While his back was turned to her, she managed to attack a small touchstone device to the fencepost. With a touch of a button it activated. ¡°Nobody will sneak up on her here for awhile without me knowing,¡± she whispered, then slipping on her boot, she and Rob made their way back to the Allynswood estate.


    <hr>


    The land near Tantis was dry country, and rocky on the side that faced the Boundary, far away from the river that gave Brightwater its name and fertility. It was a country for miners and shepherds, rough and broken, with small streams and the occasional oasis of a spring fed lake. Smugglers, as well as bandits who worked for or preyed on the smugglers, miners and shepherds also made their homes here.


    And then sometimes, there were others, like the group of tents that set up in the high country overlooking the landscape below.


    Byrony Gabbro sat in one of those tents, well away from the target area, and carefully out of line of sight from below, and, as an extra precaution, hidden behind state of the art Dragonkin concealment magic. In fact, the whole compound was, and only those who had been given the right key could even find it.


    At the moment, he was surrounded with the other leaders of the operation at hand ¨C Bedwyr, called the Birch, Sael Havron, his right-hand man, and Ruell from the White Circle. Orderlies hovered near, ready to aid, but not underfoot. In front of him was a table holding a large map of the location, every draw and spring and rock formation and trail clearly indicated on it. It too was of Dragonkin make ¨C only people who fly could have gotten all the bumps and rises properly indicated.


    ¡°If our information is correct, our target will be showing up here,¡± Byrony said, pointing to a highlighted place on the map. He placed a marker pin over it. ¡°We have discovered that he brings his people in with his half of the goods and waits there while the couriers make the pickup. He probably warehouses the contraband there, although on the surface, it just looks like a cabin. It¡¯s said he uses it as a retreat when he¡¯s not there for...business...reasons. There¡¯s a small lake nearby. I hear he likes fishing. And to entertain a certain lady friend. Surprisingly, frequently these little trips have him bringing wagon loads of goods from Greshold¡¯s Keep to stock his pantries, the records say. His lady friend must have unusual tastes. ¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯re sure he¡¯ll be there this time as well?¡± Bedwyr asked.


    Byrony shrugged. His wings flickered a bit, just a little, showing a little of the tension building. ¡°I can¡¯t be totally sure, but it¡¯s his usual practice. It¡¯s what he¡¯s been doing. If he does what he has done in the past, he¡¯ll arrive at the cabin several hours before the deal is set to take place. I take it that the White Circle is going to surveil this place and let us know when he arrives?¡±


    ¡°My people are already in position,¡± Ruell said, ¡°although I might have brought more if I had known what we were doing in advance.¡±


    ¡°I wish we could have had this meeting earlier, but there are leaks somewhere. We don¡¯t know who or how they¡¯ve been getting some of their information. This is why Redbeard wasn¡¯t let in on how we¡¯re doing it. His network¡¯s the most likely source,¡± Bedwyr said. ¡°We decided the fewer who knew until the last minute, the more likely everything would work as planned.¡±


    ¡°Odd how what¡¯s been going on this is aimed at Redbeard¡¯s power base,¡± Havron said. ¡°You think he¡¯d be anxious to help.¡±


    ¡°He himself would be, but that¡¯s why I said his network,¡± Bedwyr replied. ¡°Happens to a man who has a history of playing both sides against the middle. Loyalty there isn¡¯t a guaranteed thing. Some of his people may want to see him fall, for revenge or greed.¡±


    ¡°Or both,¡± said Byrony, nodding. ¡°That¡¯s why he doesn¡¯t even know what we¡¯re planning, I hope.¡± He turned around. ¡°Umber, bring me that box over there,¡± he said, pointing to a wooden box sitting on a pile of supplies.


    Umber Madrona, who had been watching attentively but quietly to the back of Byrony, hurried to the box. It was heavier than he expected, but he grabbed it and handed it over. Byrony opened it up, and began to take out small markers and figurines.


    ¡°The Shadowlanders and their agents will be moving up from Tantis after our target settles in at the cabin. Their people are expecting to rendezvous with the Sunlit smugglers here.¡± He put a marker on a spot on the map. ¡°It¡¯s a fairly defensible space, the bottom of a canyon, wide enough to camp in, but with cliff faces on either side that allow whoever¡¯s there first to set up defensive forces. We need to be there first.¡±


    ¡°I have two squads out now,¡± Sael said, nodding. ¡°The first should grab the people coming up from Tantis. I have them stationed here,¡± he said, pointing at a place on the map near the entrance of the canyon. ¡°The second group is waiting for his couriers. We¡¯ve done take outs like this before. We¡¯ll look like the group supplying the goods, while controlling the heights.¡±


    ¡°And once you have them?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s when we¡¯ll leave them for squad one after dopplegangering them.¡±


    ¡°Dopplegangering?¡± Byrony asked. ¡°Shapeshifting? Isn¡¯t that dangerous? People caught in other forms sometime have trouble being their own selves again.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve seen Bedwyr¡¯s people use that technique,¡± Ruell said, nodding. ¡°He has a special method that¡¯s not exactly shapeshifting. But the effects are so good that even the mothers or wives of the copied wouldn¡¯t be able to tell their bodies from the original. Even their voice sounds the same. But it can be tricky if they don¡¯t act like the originals, sometimes.¡±


    ¡°Should be close enough to let them let us into the cabin.¡± Sael gave Byrony one of his wicked grins. ¡°Once we have them, it¡¯s all up to you.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll be there soon as you signal,¡± Byrony said, nodding. ¡°Now we wait.¡±

 Day 6 of the Warming Month

    Chapter 29


    There will be times when your quarry seems out of reach, where the trail has gone totally cold, where the evidence vanishes, and your investigation seems useless. Then more than ever, cling to our slogan. ¡°We never stop investigating.¡± Even if everything eludes you, we do not give up. It might not be you who discovers the answer, but justice will prevail, because we never do stop. Have faith in that!


    DIC Investigators¡¯ Manual


    The day dawned both with anxiety, as the leaders of the mission sat and talked and drank too much tea, and killed time in various other ways while waiting for news about the movement of their suspects. Birch¡¯s team seldom worked with the White Circle directly, and DIC seldom worked with either. That added a bit to the tension ¨C nobody wanted to sabotage the outcome.


    By midmorning all the leaders had drifted into the leadership tent, to review their plans once again, when a man ran in to hand Ruell a message.


    ¡°My men are prepositioned right now at these two points,¡± Havron was saying, ¡°laying low and out of sight in troop carriers until we get word of their movements. First partial deployment will take place once we get word of Target Number One reaching his destination.¡±


    Ruell stood up. ¡°Well friends, I¡¯ve just received word from my people in the field that our man has reached his cabin. The game has begun.¡±


    Byrony took a deep breath, and was about to say something when another runner entered the tent to hand the Birch a message as well. Bedwyr read it and looked up. ¡°And my people in the field also confirm that.¡±


    Ruell raised an eyebrow at Bedwyr.


    Bedwyr shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s not that I don¡¯t trust the White Circle. Old habits die hard. And I like redundancy.¡±


    Ruell chuckled a little. ¡°I¡¯m glad we¡¯re both on the same side.¡±


    ¡°Well men, if the target is in the coop, then I have things to do,¡± Havron said. ¡°Excuse me while I get things in motion.¡± Motioning to his orderly, he left the tent.


    One by one, the leadership group moved out of the headquarters tent until only Byrony and Umber and a few other orderlies were left. The room grew very quiet, the silence growing heavy until one of the orderlies, cleaning up the refreshments table managed to drop a metal tray. All eyes turned to the young man.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± he said, as he picked up the tray and mopped up some spilled liquid.


    Byrony took a deep sigh, then pushed himself out of his chair. ¡°I think...I think after all of that I need a fresh cup of tea. Or maybe to stretch my legs. Or something. My busy time won¡¯t happen until near the end.¡± He looked at Umber. ¡°Rather different than checking shipping receipts, heh?¡±


    ¡°So different,¡± Umber said, nodding.


    ¡°Let¡¯s head to my tent,¡± the older Dragonkin said.


    The two of them left the leadership tent. The grounds around them were filled with people preparing for what the next step of the mission would bring, with some people bringing their weapons to weapons keepers, although most of the people who would be in the field were already at their own forward bases. Still, the leaders knew enough not to strip the area of guards. A few people worked on their training with sword and spear. Elsewhere, a group of people had gathered around the Birch¡¯s tent, waiting for someone.


    ¡°Is this what it¡¯s like working on a big DIC operation?¡± Umber asked, looking around the base.


    ¡°Not exactly,¡± Byrony said, shaking his head. ¡°This is...different. The DIC isn¡¯t actually in charge of what¡¯s going on. We are joined hand in hand with the Ynys Afel people, which does make this unusual.¡± A young orderly dashed by with a wrapped bundle and almost bumped into Umber.


    ¡°Sorry, sir,¡± he said, then dashed off to one of the tents. ¡°Master Ruell¡¯s going to have my hide.¡±


    ¡°Well, maybe it¡¯s not totally different that DIC encampments,¡± Byrony said, watching the boy run across the field. ¡°Same thing almost happened to me at the last one I was on.¡±


    ¡°Do things like this happen often?¡± Umber asked. ¡°I don¡¯t remember anything like this in my history of the DIC.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Byrony said, as they reached his tent. His two ceremonial guards stationed in front of the tent came to attention as he neared, and one of them opened the flap to let them in. It was fairly spartan, with a table, a couple of chairs, a small fire stove. The one luxury he had brought with him was a sand bed with touch stone heater. Umber looked at the bed with some envy.


    Byrony fired up the stove and and put a kettle of water on to heat.


    ¡°So this encampment is not your usual big DIC venture,¡± he said, pulling out his tea making things, a lovely pot in a dark glowing reddish brown color, and two matching mugs. ¡°First, they¡¯d never let me have guards like this. And they definitely wouldn¡¯t have sent a sand bed. I can¡¯t say I don¡¯t like it, but it¡¯s a better bed than I have at home. I guess someone, possibly the President, was trying to make an impression on the Aos Si people. This is the rarest type of event, where we work together to snag a criminal. But the Master Investigator told me it might be the start of a new approach. There¡¯s a lot going on right now. So much.¡±


    He plopped down in one of the chairs and sagged for a moment. ¡°I don¡¯t know how much I should load you down with all of this,¡± he said to the younger Dragonkin. ¡°You¡¯ve got the rest of your first year in a small backwater Dragon Web station, and you won¡¯t get to see much policing at all, if any. And to drag you into the middle of high level policy...¡±


    ¡°Thank you for bringing me along, sir,¡± Umber said. ¡°I¡¯m trying to do my best, but my posting at Goblin Market has been, well¡­¡±


    ¡°Not what you expected, eh?¡± Byrony scratched under his chin. ¡°Let me guess. You¡¯re from an old inspector family, and your head was filled every since you can remember with stories about how the investigators used their wits and skills to chase down people who broke the rules ever since you can remember.¡±


    Umber dropped his eyes but nodded. ¡°Yes sir.¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t care about the other things Dragonkin are supposed to care about, like making profit and the ins and outs of trade and selling and accumulation.¡±


    Head still bowed, Umber nodded.


    ¡°And you spent time reading about forensics and detection and maybe even novels about DIC adventures.¡±


    Umber lifted his head. ¡°How...how did you know, sir?¡±


    Byrony clamped him on the shoulder. ¡°Heh. That was me at your age. That¡¯s most good investigators, if truth be known. That¡¯s why we¡¯re different.¡± The tea pot began to steam, and Byrony turned his attention back to his tea making. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you a secret. The students we have the most hope for, the ones we think will make the best investigators, they¡¯re the ones that get the cruddiest first year assignments.¡±


    Umber sucked on his bottom lip at this revelation, then looked up at Byrony. ¡°You mean it¡¯s a test?¡±


    ¡°It is. A hard test. That way, we weed out the people who are in it for the prestige of being inspectors, who do it for the glory or who think they¡¯re just special. The ones who remain have the determination to do the work, no matter how hard it is. Who can live up to the slogan.¡±


    ¡°We never stop investigating,¡± Umber said.


    ¡°Even when it hurts.¡± Byrony poured boiling water over his tea. ¡°And let me tell you, as you come up through the ranks, there will be times it really hurts. You have what it takes?¡±


    ¡°I believe so, sir.¡± Umber said.


    ¡°Good man.¡± He poured tea into both of their cups. ¡°Here¡¯s to a successful conclusion to our current mission, and may we always get our man.¡±


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    <hr>


    Far away from where Byrony was drinking tea, the Oldest stepped off of the King¡¯s Highway and into the shadow of a great maple tree. There was a path here, perhaps not made by Daoine or Bauchan folk, maybe perhaps originally by deer, but worn into the undergrowth enough that she could follow it.


    It had been a long time since the last time she had walked it, and if the people she left behind at the White Circle chapter house knew she was walking it now, they would be shocked, perhaps aghast that she actually was here.


    ¡°Sometimes, even people like me have to escape their keepers,¡± she murmured.


    She stepped nimbly over branch and rock, for once having shed her white robes of office, and instead wore garments she favored in a younger era: leather breeches suitable to save her legs from scratches and tears and the effects of small life hungry for a quick blood meal, comfortable boots to challenge the uneven land, and a long sleeved shirt that blended into the landscape. Only her long white hair, secured in a single braid and the circlet of office she wore upon her head gave her away as something other than another forest dweller. In her hand was a strong staff and draped cross body was a bag of necessities. For a moment she could lose herself in the memories of the first time she wandered in this forest ¨C dressed just like this in a time long gone and past.


    Finally she reached the place she was aiming for - a small glade with a deep spring of sweet water, that eventually went underground. It was wild, making an unruly pond of water the first time she found it. It was not so now. Some careful stonework surrounded the spring now, making it almost a well. There were a couple of benches under the nearby trees and a single seat against another. It still glinted with magic potential, like it had the first time she tasted the waters.


    She sat down on one of the benches, and pulled a cup out of her bag, and dipped it into the waters. Lifting it up, she swirled the waters in her cup. It glowed lightly as she reached out with her magic awareness. As she lifted the cup to take a sip, there was a rustle behind her, and a shadow touched her silver hair.


    ¡°It took you long enough to find me,¡± the Oldest said. She drank from her cup.


    ¡°Lady Sulis,¡± Cullin said, walking around the bench. ¡°It¡¯s been a long time since you¡¯ve walked these woods.¡± He sat down. ¡°I felt you the moment you stepped off of the highway and passed under the maple. But at first, I believed it was just my...hope? Imagination?¡± He tugged on the edge of his broad hat. ¡°But then, you found the old track. I knew where you were headed to. I finished what I was working on, making peace between a cantankerous old satyr who should have known better and a young dryad who didn¡¯t care for his attention. Satyr is lucky he has any beard left. But I think peace was achieved, for the moment. Then I came here.¡±


    ¡°The forest feels good, my boy. You have cared for it well,¡± the Oldest said.


    ¡°You gave me the duty,¡± he said, simply. ¡°Everyone who belongs here, every tree, every pixie or stag or moss person, bear or butterfly. Each tree or shrub or flower - I care for them all.¡±


    ¡°It was not an easy task I gave you,¡± she said, resting a hand on his.


    He shrugged. ¡°It was the task I was born to do. I have no regrets.¡±


    The Oldest nodded, and moved onto the thing that brought her to the forest. ¡°And what of your new neighbor? The woman who moved into Pixie Hollow?¡±


    Cullin pondered for a moment. ¡°She is free from my watching. She is kindhearted, and the pixies sing her praises. She knew me when she was a child. Her mother was much like her, big-hearted, and able to charm me to her house more than once. Leila read her heart and found her good, but with a sadness she tries to hide. I think she will be a good neighbor. She bakes good cake.¡±


    That last comment made the Oldest chuckle, but then she grew serious again.


    ¡°Something is going on in the world outside of your forest. I¡¯m not exactly sure what is happening yet, but it has the potential to be very bad, and I am only getting glimpses of it.¡±


    ¡°I have not felt anything yet,¡± Cullin replied. He closed his eyes, drifted his attention over his domain. ¡°All here is as it should be.¡±


    ¡°May it stay so!¡± The Oldest nodded. ¡°Keep your peace close to your heart. But not everybody will be so lucky. Whatever is out there is wrapping its threads around Gan Thistleberry somehow. She has been caught up in a prophecy she doesn¡¯t even know about.¡± She looked deep into her cup. ¡°At the Well of Fate, last winter solstice, the seer called her a scholar with no school who will be given a key that could make things right or unleash a disaster.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not a good thing to be caught up in a prophecy,¡± Cullin said. He rubbed his chin, thinking about the woman who had invited him in when he didn¡¯t come over friendly, and even defended his right to protect his lands. He knew Leila had made instant friends with her, and had been back to visit more than once. ¡°You¡¯re not asking me to defend myself from her, are you?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± the Oldest said. ¡°I would like you to keep an eye on her. Maybe nobody will try to bother her, and her role will happen with no trouble. But I would rest better if I knew you added her to your list of people to care for.¡±


    ¡°I will do it,¡± the Tree Shepherd said, nodding, in a solemn voice.


    She rummaged in her bag, and pulled out a stone. ¡°This is a sending stone. Use it if something happens. Let me know.¡±


    He nodded, and put it away in his coat.


    ¡°I will try to come back here more often. I had forgotten what a lovely place this is. Remember, I always think of you as my son.¡± She stood up, and touched his cheek.


    He looked up at her, and smiled, resting his hand over hers. Stepping back, the Oldest slid the knob on the jump stone around her neck, and was gone.


    <hr>


    Gweir walked around the troop transport. Currently it rested in a flat rocky plateau out of the line of sight of the road through the canyon below. His team had already camouflaged the roof, in case any of the people they were hunting had air transport. To anybody flying overhead, even if they were gifted with the sight, it would look like a big hunk of rock.


    ¡°That should do it,¡± he said, standing before the entryway. ¡°Let¡¯s go tell the squad the good news.¡±


    The door to the troop carrier opened up, and Gweir and his second, Dylan walked into the room.


    The men sat on benches that went around the carriage in a u-shape. In the front to the right of the doors was a cabinet where supplies were stored, and more were piled in front of it. Dragonfire lamps kept the room lit, and blowers kept the air fresh, but even with that air he could smell the tinge of anxiety and excitement percolating through the men gathered there. He looked at each of their faces. Some were bored, some were excited, some were busy doing last minute checks of the gear. All were armed and wrapped in the battle cloaks the Birch supplied them, designed to make them hard to see against the dry and rocky landscape they would be working in.


    Dylan announced his presence, and the men snapped to attention. Gweir walked over to his seat in the carrier, but didn¡¯t sit down.


    ¡°Time to get ready, men. This is our first operation since they pulled us into the Birch¡¯s service. Let¡¯s do this right, and let¡¯s show him what type of people he brought in. Everyone check their gauntlets,¡± he said.


    ¡°Be sure your sending stone is set for OniBlack. That¡¯s the channel we¡¯re going to use to talk in case we get separated, and if I need to change orders. Only our people will be able to understand what we say to each other. The stone scrambles it if anybody else overhears it.¡± He held a small grey wand of crystal. ¡°I have the tuning wand if anybody needs it.¡±


    Someone in the back held up his hand, and Gweir passed it back.


    ¡°I¡¯ll never understand how this thing works,¡± said one of the soldiers, a redheaded Bauchan man name Jerrath who had served with Gweir for about six years. He had a lack of education but strong ability to fight and follow orders, which had served him well during the training period.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you remember what they told you?¡± Thibbet, sitting next to the speaker said. He punched him in the ribs with his elbow. ¡°I explained it to you before. The gauntlet sets up a magic field. It sends the speech out as gibberish, but if you have one of these babies,¡± he said, holding up his own gauntlet, ¡°You¡¯re in a magic field that lets you hear it right. It puts a spell on your ears or your mind or something.¡±


    ¡°Remember the drill,¡± Gweir said, ignoring the two men. ¡°White stone is talk. Blue stone is Truesight. Some of these people we¡¯re going after are Shadowlanders. They may try to cast Darkness or something else. Third stone, the red one, is Barrier. Fourth stone, the green one, is Pass Unseen. If they have good senses, it might not work, but in battlefield, the chaos can be useful. Fifth stone, the purple one, is Camouflage.¡±


    ¡°Hard to believe something like this isn¡¯t Dragonkin made. They¡¯re usually the ones with the fancy magical tools,¡± Gabon, Gweir¡¯s Third said.


    ¡°All Aos Si make. Havron told me they made the first ones at the Fireburners¡¯ labs on the White Isle. Dragonkin aren¡¯t the only smart people around.¡±


    ¡°Everybody have their jump stones on?¡± Gweir asked. He pulled a small tag hanging around his neck up. ¡°This is your guaranteed tool to get back here. Don¡¯t get killed. If there¡¯s an attack you can¡¯t dodge, and you aren¡¯t grappled, use it. Pop back here, resupply, grab another weapon, bandage, whatever, and you can pop back into position by sliding the knob back the other way. But if you¡¯re grappled, even if he¡¯s just grabbing your sleeve, you¡¯ll bring him back here with you. If you do, and I find out about it,¡± he continued, giving the men in the container a rather threatening look, ¡°I will be very unhappy about it.¡±


    The men began to double check their neck tags among a bit of muttering and a little banter.


    ¡°Don¡¯t get killed,¡± one in the back of the room said, shoving lightly the man he sat next to.


    ¡°Don¡¯t get me killed, tripping over your own big feet, Tims,¡± he said shoving back.


    Their voices were light and both were known to be best friends, and a bit of laughter scattered in the room. Gweir let the laughter go for a little while then he held up a box.


    ¡°Don¡¯t get your tags mixed up with what¡¯s in this box. These are jump stones that lead straight to where we¡¯re going to hold our charges. I suggest you make sure they are subdued before you use them. At least have their hands bound. Pop them over into the containment carriage. There are people there who will be stationed to do what¡¯s next, but we don¡¯t want to kill our friends on the line. Everybody take five, then pass the box around.¡±


    He passed the box to his second, who took out five, and secured them in a special pocket, then passed the box on.


    ¡°How many people are we facing?¡± one of the men asked.


    ¡°We don¡¯t expect more than ten or fifteen,¡± Gweir replied.


    ¡°Then why so many jump stones?¡±


    ¡°You want to wait for someone to toss you a jump stone when you have your man down?¡± Gabon said.


    ¡°Uh, no. I see,¡± said the soldier, nodding.


    The box made it around the room and got back to Gweir. There were a number of stones left. ¡°We¡¯ll leave the box with the other supplies, just in case some hero needs to replenish.¡±


    There was a snicker or two from the back of the room.


    ¡°Now comes the real stuff. Dylan, you¡¯ll put your men on the left side of the canyon. Gabon, you¡¯ll man the right. Marlhaut, you¡¯ll close off the pincher once all their people are in the trap.¡± He gave a wicked grin. ¡°The rest of you ¨C let¡¯s get ready to give them a warm welcome in front.¡±


    With a hoorah that was too loud for the walls of the troop carrier, everybody leapt up. Dylan opened the doors, and they all poured out.

 Day 7 of the Warming Month

    Chapter 30


    Sunderland has no standing army. Dragonkin do not go to war. We save war for people like the Aos Si. What we have, and what we use extensively is a police force. Our people are not combative as a whole. What we do instead is act out of greed, envy, and personal revenge. We cheat and try to hide our earnings. We steal. But we never go to war.


    This is why we really need the DIC.


    DIC Investigators¡¯ Manual


    A small caravan wound its way through the dry, rocky lands to the west of Tantis, kicking up a small cloud of dust in their passing. Three men, one Daoine and two Bauchan. in semi-military gear rode in front. At first they rode three abreast, but as the road began to enter a canyon, one rider fell back behind them.


    Behind him, there rode two men of indeterminate race, behind them a small train of pack horses, with other armed men along side of them. At the rear, another group of three guards.


    One of the men of indeterminate race was wrapped in multiple layers of fine gauzy cloth, even veiling his face, and he sported a huge brimmed hat which cast deep shadow over his face. He sat awkwardly on the back of his horse, as if he and his mount were unsure of each other. Leaning forward, he took a deep breath.


    ¡°Is it ever possible to get used to all this glare? I¡¯ve been on this side of the Boundary five years and it still drives my eyes wild every time I make this trip.¡± The sound of his voice was almost shocking in the silence the group was traveling in, with only the wind and the sounds of the horses moving.


    ¡°I never found it getting better, Mizak,¡± said the figure riding next to him, a Doghead wrapped in similar fashion, with cloth covering even his pointed muzzle, but he had no hat. Dark brown hair cascaded around his pointed ears, caught up in a long braid that cascaded down his back His voice, also speaking the gutteral language of the Shadowlands, was somewhere between a dog¡¯s whine and a growl. ¡°I can¡¯t wait until my clan leader lets me go home. He promised me I would get called back this spring, but the weather has warmed and no call. Stuck in an endless round of Tantis and Brightwater and Greshold¡¯s Keep, but never allowed to cross over the gate.¡±


    ¡°If you think your clan leader bad, Dimas, I hope you never have to meet with Queen Bercha in her fortress. Or even Dubh Derg, my master. I am glad to be here. I just wish it wasn¡¯t so damn sunny!¡±


    The Daoine man, armed and armored, riding ahead of the pair, turned his mount around and rode toward him. ¡°What are you mumbling about? I thought we had an agreement when you hired us. Everybody was supposed to speak common, no shadowlander gibberish. We don¡¯t want no plans being made we don¡¯t know about.¡±


    ¡°Sorry, sorry,¡± said Mizak. He lowered his head to hide the anger in his eyes. ¡°Wasn¡¯t trying to hide anything. I was just complaining about the sunshine.¡±


    ¡°It is bright out here,¡± the mercenary said. ¡°That¡¯s good, though. We¡¯re less likely to get jumped if there¡¯s enough light to cast good shadows. That¡¯s what Captain Lispin always says, anyway. He¡¯s always been right in the past. He¡¯s the one who set this ride up. I¡¯d trust him if I were you.¡± He looked at the road ahead. ¡°We don¡¯t have much further to go before we make the meeting place. Right past that narrow stretch ahead. If all goes as planned, we¡¯ll be back in Tantis tonight and you can get out of the sun all you want. Long as we get paid on time.¡±


    His horse neighed, and he patted its neck. With one last glance at the little caravan, he road down the road, licking up a bit of dust as he caught up with the two men riding point.


    ¡°I liked our old arrangements better,¡± Dimas said. ¡°Why do we have to put up with these new fools?¡± He kept his voice very low, speaking again in his Shadowland dialect. ¡°Our old fools were at least respectful.¡±


    ¡°It came directly from Twrthgart, from Dubh Derg himself, I was told. As for the why, that¡¯s above our pay ranks. Let¡¯s just get this done. I hate this new thing. Cutting out Redbeard? That seems madness to me. I have a bad feeling about this,¡± Mizak said.


    ¡°You always do,¡± said the Doghead. ¡°Even if things work perfectly.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s why I have survived so long in this business,¡± Mizak replied.


    Above them, on the cliffs facing the road, Gweir got his men into their final position. He was laying on the ground, watching the caravan¡¯s progress through a long, touch stone-enhanced spy glass. ¡°They¡¯re finally on their way,¡± he said, using his communication button. ¡°Nobody, and I mean nobody drop out of their position and onto the target until I give the word. Time to keep quiet except for emergencies.¡±


    A small chorus of acknowledgements sounded, and then nothing.


    ¡°They¡¯re getting close,¡± Gabon said, laying on the ground next to Gweir. ¡°Can you make them out yet?¡±


    ¡°Looks like nine or ten mercs. One of¡¯em must be Daoine for sure. Has fancier armor than the rest. A couple of Shadowlanders, by the way they¡¯re bundled up.¡± He dropped his eye piece and looked at his companion. ¡°Piece of cake.¡±


    Gabon nodded, and then sighed a little. ¡°Keep thinking about our last smuggler raid, the one before we got drafted by the Birch. Kind of nervous that we don¡¯t have White Guard backup.¡±


    Gweir lifted up his gauntleted wrist. ¡°This will take care of most of that. Besides, we outnumber them. ¡±


    ¡°I know. I guess it¡¯s just the newness. Just all me an old dog.¡± Gabon picked up a pebble, looked at it, and cast it over his left shoulder, away from the road below.


    Gweir handed Gabon the spyglass. ¡°Look through this and tell me who you think that might be in the middle. That¡¯ll cheer you up.¡±


    Gabon brought it up to his eye and looked at the oncoming smuggling group. ¡°Lifegiver! Finally!¡±


    ¡°Thought that¡¯d cheer you up,¡± Gweir said, taking back the spyglass. ¡°Get back to your men. It¡¯s almost time for this party to start.¡±


    As the caravan neared the narrows, the cliffs grew taller, almost two heads above the ground level, and steeper, a wall of crevices, shadow and red rock. The lead riders drew closer together, and the men guarding the sides positioned themselves more widely apart to have room to ride. No more than two animals could ride through the road ahead, and the cliffs cast shadow over the pathway.


    Mizak studied the scene ahead with some nervousness, scanning the rock face for signs of trouble. ¡°If there¡¯s a trap, this is the place for it,¡± he muttered.


    ¡°Wait,¡± said Dimas, stopping his mount and turning his mount to face his companion. ¡°I smell something...something not of the desert. It smells of...magic and sweat...¡±


    Mizak stopped moving forward, and looked at the canyon walls. ¡°What? What does that mean?¡±


    Suddenly there was a twanging sound, and then a whooshing sound as arrows pincushioned the men riding flank. The air was filled with the sounds of pain from human and animal. Unwounded horses ran, and one by one, the wounded mercenaries disappeared. The pack horses in the center started to panic, rearing up and trying to break away from their leads. and up ahead, two of the mercenaries¡¯ horses reared up and threw one of the soldiers, who quickly disappeared. The Daoine mercenary was a sudden pincushion, and he slumped into the saddle, then as they watched, vanished.


    ¡°Shit,¡± Mizak said, loudly, and in Common. ¡°Let¡¯s get out of here!¡± Before he could run for it, a hand grabbed his horse¡¯s reins and he found a spear aimed at his throat.


    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    ¡°Well, well, well, Mizak. Funny meeting you so far away from Greshold¡¯s Keep,¡± Gweir said. ¡°What brings you so far out in the sunlight?¡±


    ¡°Gweir. I heard you got fired after that last gate closure of yours.¡± Someone on the ground grabbed his wrists and bound them behind him. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Dimas wrestled to the ground, face down, having his wrists pound as well. The man who did it, reached over and grabbed Dimas¡¯ shoulder, fumbled with something one handed, and the both of them disappeared.


    ¡°Wasn¡¯t fired,¡± Gweir said. ¡°You might say I was promoted.¡±


    Another soldier pulled Mizak off his horse, and then, after a moment the two were gone.


    <hr>


    Off in the Gray Lands, hidden in a location that outsiders who were not Jinn or Peri were banned from, Violetta Greenleaf hobbled out into the garden outside of her sick room, leaning on a staff. It had been five weeks since her life went topsy-turvy due to the random chance bite of a Bloodfire spider. Her leg was still gaining strength, but was far from normal after being wounded by the spider. Her stamina was still poor. Her Daoine abilities...She shook her head at the thought.


    ¡°Slow but steady,¡± she said to herself. ¡°I¡¯m just not strong enough to ride out of here yet. But I know I¡¯m getting better. That¡¯s why I¡¯m going mad at having my life restricted to a bed room, and a bath. At least the garden is nice.¡± She took a deep breath. ¡°And my caretakers have been nothing but kind. Be patient, Violetta.¡±


    She moved slowly along garden beds fragrant with rose and medicinal herbs. She turned a corner around the end of the last bed, getting ready to head to the shaded bench that was her walking target when she noticed she wasn¡¯t alone.


    Today the Called was sitting with another woman, dressed in similar gauzy robes and veils that the members of her religious order wore sitting down on the bench she was aimed at. The new woman too was jinn, but much thinner and older looking, and her robes were all bright red.


    The two women, in deep conversation, stopped speaking as they noticed her draw close.


    ¡°We will discuss this later,¡± the older of the two said. She stood up and headed back inside, walking down a different path than Violetta had used, but before she did it, she gave Violetta a hard, probing look. Saying nothing else, she headed into the building.


    Violetta leaned on her staff as she watched as the woman entered the building. An uncomfortable cold touched her as she watched, as if the woman was radiating some aura to filter her out.


    ¡°What was that about?¡± she wondered.


    Turning back to look at the Called, she found her looking pensive, a frown on her face as if she was trying to decide something, and didn¡¯t like the choices she needed to pick from. Violetta¡¯s throat tightened as she watched the kind woman who had healed her, knowing somehow or the other she was at least part of the cause of whatever had been said, and did not like it.


    She continued moving through the garden, her staff tapping on the flagstones, until she reached the bench where the woman sat.


    ¡°Is there anything the matter?¡± Violetta asked as she settled down on the seat next to the Called, knowing perfectly well that there was.


    The veiled woman sighed. ¡°Maybe. Perhaps.¡± She shook her head. ¡°I was being questioned about my judgment. Policies and politics. It always gets in the way of things, doesn¡¯t it? I¡¯d still make the same decisions again.¡±


    ¡°I am sorry this has happened to you,¡± Violetta said. ¡°It¡¯s not like I intended to be here or cause you problems. I have tried to be a good guest, not poking my nose into things that aren¡¯t my business. And you have been nothing but kind. You saved my life. I hope they take that into consideration, the circumstances.¡±


    The Called laid a hand over Violetta¡¯s. ¡°Sometimes, in some people¡¯s minds, form rather than intention matter. I¡¯m afraid Elder Mother leans in that direction when she¡¯s unsure of things.¡± She shook her head. ¡°There¡¯s much that I can¡¯t speak of, that is in flux. There is something she would like to do that I don¡¯t approve of and we will have to come to a decision about it soon. But nothing has been decided yet.¡±


    She took Violetta¡¯s hand, smoothed her face, then gave Violetta a smile. ¡°Let us put Elder Mother and her worries out of our minds for the moment. It is time to think about you, not the worries of others. So have you been able to call to your mana yet?¡±


    ¡°I can feel it...better than last week. But it feels so far away, almost like it was an echo of itself.¡±


    The Called nodded. ¡°This is one of the side effects of the Bloodfire Spider poisoning, the blocking of your mana channels,¡± the Called said. ¡°Your mana channels are not broken, but they are not normal. They feel better to me than they did, but I am loathe to let you leave until that is healed. ¡°Here,¡± she said, putting a small bead into Violetta¡¯s hand.


    ¡°What is that? A touchstone?¡±


    The Called shook her hand. ¡°It¡¯s similar,¡± she said. ¡°But it won¡¯t channel your magic. We use it for training, helping people focus on their mana. Even the Jinn have to train in magic¡¯s use.¡±


    ¡°What do I do?¡± Violetta asked.


    ¡°Try to get your mana to touch it. When you connect, it will start to glow. The better the connection, the brighter it will glow.¡±


    Violetta closed her eyes, and went back in thought to what she had learned back when she was in school, when she and her friends Gan and Elaine were learning basic magics.


    ¡°Deep inside of you,¡± Mistress Anis would say, ¡°There is a flame. That¡¯s your magic. See it? It¡¯s dancing in your heart. Touch it with your mind, pet it, draw from it. See it move from your heart into your hand.¡±


    Of the three of them, Gan took to it the easiest. Almost from the beginning of the instruction, she could bring a flame of magic fire to her fingertip. Violetta was not far behind; she and Elaine did it almost at the same second.


    Remembering those days, she went deep inside of herself, and found that small spark of mana, laying there in her heart where it had rested since the day she was born. She touched it with her mind, and it lightly flared. Teasing it along, she drew it into the hand the stone the Called gave her rested, bidding it to surround the stone, enter it.


    She opened her eyes and her hand at the same time. The small pearl of magical material glowed faintly on her hand.


    ¡°Won¡¯t be long now,¡± the Called said.


    <hr>


    Havron¡¯s second squad of troops had picked up the second group of couriers as easily as Gweir¡¯s men had, and now it was time for the final step in the joint mission.


    People were gathered in one of the troop carriers the King¡¯s Guard liked to use. Sael was dressed in his green dress uniform with shiny metal helmet with brass wings on it. Over his shoulders was a scarlet cloak, pinned at his throat with the emblem of the Birch leaf, the sigil of his branch of the King¡¯s guards, with sword strapped to his hip and spear in his hand.


    Standing next to him was Byrony in his DIC dress uniform of grey and gold. Behind him his two ceremonial guards stood at the ready, and to his left stood Ruell, in the white robes of the White Circle, with his badge of office, a simple white circle on a golden disk.


    Behind them stood Havron¡¯s troops, about fifty men dressed in battle gear. Beyond them was a loose line of six people in white robes; these were members of the Magic Guard. These were for official show. The rest of their crew were dispersed in the land around their target¡¯s location. Those people were already at work, and had been for the last two days, reinforcing a no-jump field over the cabin.


    ¡°Ready, men?¡± Havron asked.


    ¡°Looks like we¡¯re good to go,¡± Byrony said.


    Sael nodded to an orderly, and the door was closed and the jump made, to an area near the targeted cabin, but not visible from the front windows. The door opened, and 30 of his soldiers, marching at a slow run, filed out to surround the building.


    Giving them a few moments to get into place, Havron turned to the rest of the assembly. ¡°Shall we proceed?¡±


    Havron led his assembly to the cabin door, and knocked on it loudly, three times. ¡°Open up. Official business.¡±


    There was no response, even after repeating this three times. With a flick of his wrist and a touch of his gauntlet, Havron blew the door open. The room, a wood paneled luxury cabin with rich sofas, fine end tables and even a sand bed in one corner was empty.


    ¡°Did he get away?¡± Ruell asked in a low tone. ¡°Did he have a bolt hole?¡±


    ¡°Four of them,¡± Havron said. ¡°We blocked all of them before he got here.¡±


    Byrony and his guard moved in. ¡°Search room by room, and carefully. Expect traps, invisibility tools, hidden rooms, especially below ground.¡±


    Havron motioned to his men, who began to search the rooms and places beyond.


    ¡°Do you think he slipped away?¡± Umber, who had followed Byrony in, asked.


    ¡°No,¡± Havron replied. ¡°We had this place watched before he even got here, and the no-jump field already in place. He¡¯s got to be somewhere here. He might have suspected something was up when his couriers were late coming, but we would have seen it if he had run.¡±


    It didn¡¯t take the troops long to clear the ground floor, and just a little longer to find the hidden passage that led into an elaborate storage area under the building and beyond, and to tunnels that lead to exits well away from the cabin. The storage rooms were stuffed with all sorts of trade goods ¨C semi-sanctioned items like knives and pottery and Black Silk armour cloth from the Shadowlands filled one room, and legitimate to own goods from the Sunlit Lands, obviously there to make trade deals. The next room though, was stuffed with bundles of dreamdust and other contraband that had no business being traded. The last room was the kicker. There were a large stack of crates against one wall. Gweir opened one of the crates, and it was filled with knobbed slabs of stones and one box that contained a programming device.


    ¡°Jumpstones?¡± Havron said. ¡°With a programming machine? Who made these?¡±


    ¡°They don¡¯t look like B&F goods,¡± Byrony said. ¡°Not made as well, for one.¡± He picked up one of the jumpstones, put it between his fingers, and snapped it easily.


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter if they¡¯re made cheaply or not,¡± Ruell said. ¡°What matters is if they can be programmed to jump the Border barrier.¡± He rubbed the back of his neck.


    Byrony nodded. ¡°Let me take a case of these back to my labs.¡±


    Havron pulled a case out of the stack. That¡¯s when Byrony saw it...the same company glyph he had spotted at the murder site at Xendo¡¯s Freehold, but hadn¡¯t been able to identify. Not saying anything, he handed the box to Umber. ¡°Run this back to my tent, and don¡¯t let it out of your sight. You¡¯ll have to walk beyond the no-jump zone, don¡¯t forget that.¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir,¡± Umber said, and left the room.


    As he left, one of Havron¡¯s soldiers pushed in past him.


    ¡°We found him, sir,¡± the man said, saluting. ¡°I¡¯m afraid you¡¯re not going to like it. He¡¯s dead. Looks like he killed himself.¡±

 Day 11 of the Warming Month

    Chapter 31


    Compost, compost,


    shovel and hoe,


    Dig that bed


    and make it grow


    Weed, I hate you -


    don''t you know


    into the compost pile


    you will go.


    Dirt is calling


    soft and low


    come dig in me


    and let things grow


    So grab the shovel,


    sharpen the hoe,


    time to garden -


    here I go!


    ¡°A Gardener¡¯s Call¡± from Seasonal Songs by Maira Methelwick


    Far away from deserts and police actions, the sun rose over the green land of Allynswood and Pixie Hollow. Gan Thistleberry walked into her kitchen, still in her dressing gown, her hair covered by a white cap. Most of the Pixies were still asleep, bedded down in odd corners of the house. That is, all the Pixies except for Moxie.


    ¡°Good morning!¡± Moxie said cheerily from the kitchen table.


    Gan stifled a yawn. ¡°Why are you up already?¡± she asked. Pulling out a chair at the table to sit on, she plopped down and making a sigil in the air, used her magic to stir up the coals in the fireplace. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you still be asleep?¡± Using the same method, she enough fuel to get a bright fire lit and then swung her tea kettle over the flames. Then and only then, she indulged with a large and comfortable yawn.


    ¡°The robins woke me up,¡± Moxie said. ¡°They sing so loud in the morning, I¡¯m surprised they don¡¯t wake everybody else up. But nobody else wanted to get up. I was about to go back to sleep, but then I remembered I liked to watch you boil water, so I stayed up.¡±


    ¡°You like to watch boiling water?¡± Gan asked as she stood up and went to the bread box. Carefully, she cut two slices, one quite small. She handed the smaller piece to Moxie.


    ¡°Oh thank you!¡± the Pixie said, for some reason surprised at the offering, and then she took a bite. Swallowing, she continued her chatter. ¡°Oh yes, I like to watch the steam coming out of the tea kettle. It¡¯s like clouds in the summer, without the thunderstorm. I love watching clouds.¡±


    ¡°Pixies see things differently than we big people.¡± Gan yawned once again, then pulled down her teapot off the shelf. ¡°I would have never thought of that.¡± She was just about to reach for the tea chest when there was a knock at the door.


    ¡°Now who could that be this early?¡±


    Moxie shrugged. ¡°It can¡¯t be Leila. She doesn¡¯t like to get up this early.¡±


    The knocking woke several other Pixies up.


    ¡°Loud noises early are evil,¡± said Seamus, flying in to land on the table. He saw that Moxie had some bread. ¡°But breakfasts are good.¡±


    ¡°Soon, little man. Let¡¯s see who this is.¡± Mistress Gan walked to the door, Moxie on her shoulder. The visitor knocked again right before she opened it.


    Rob Woodway, the young Bauchan gardener that worked on Elaine¡¯s estate and often doubled as her driver stood there, holding his red wool cap in his hand. ¡°Good morning, ma¡¯am,¡± he said, looking down at what he had done to his cap. ¡°Sorry it¡¯s so early, but Lady Elaine told me to get here early.¡±


    ¡°Well, hello there, Rob,¡± Gan said. ¡°What brings you out here this early?¡±


    ¡°Begging your pardon, Ma¡¯am,¡± he said, twisting his cap a little more in this hands after realizing how Gan was dressed. ¡°I¡¯m sorry if I woke you up.¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t wake me up, son. Just knocked a little bit after I was awake. Still making my morning tea.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve seen you before,¡± Moxie said, landing on the young man¡¯s head. ¡°You have hair like my brother.¡±


    The young man didn¡¯t know what to think about that statement. He looked up at the Pixie and shook his head. Laughing, Moxie flew off.


    ¡°Lady Elaine sent me over to work on your gardens, Ma¡¯am, if you don¡¯t mind.¡±


    Moxie flew back to Gan¡¯s shoulder. ¡°I remember you - you¡¯re the one they told to run because that meanie Tree Shepherd was walking across the field. I don¡¯t blame you for hiding behind the building.¡±


    Gan turned her head, trying to get a good glimpse of the tiny woman on her shoulder. ¡°I thought you were off in Cullin¡¯s forest when that was going on,¡± she said, surprised.


    ¡°I was flying overhead, out of that nasty smell,¡± Moxie said. She shook her head then rubbed her nose. ¡°It wasn¡¯t very nice of them to use all that Ixip. My nose itches just thinking about it.¡±


    ¡°Were you the one crying about wanting to go home?¡± the gardener asked.


    ¡°You heard me?¡± Moxie gave him a big smile, then drifted his way. ¡°Big people don¡¯t always hear me. I¡¯m impressed. I promise not to use any pixie dust on you.¡±


    At this, Gan chuckled. ¡°Go inside for a bit, Moxie. I want to talk to our young gardener here.¡±


    The Pixie, cooperative for once, nodded and did as she was asked. ¡°Oh, the lovely steam clouds!¡± she said as she drifted back in.


    Gan looked at him for a moment, then nodded. ¡°So young sir. You know that my house and gardens and fields are quite likely to have pixies in them.¡±


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°Yes Ma¡¯am. Lady Elaine gave me a charm against the dust.¡±


    ¡°And that people like Cullin, the Tree Shepherd, or other not Daoine or Bogan folk might show up at any time?¡±


    Rob clutched his cap. ¡°Yes, Ma¡¯am. He won¡¯t throw mudbombs at your house, will he?¡± He looked nervously at the forest.


    She smiled. ¡°No, I don¡¯t think so. Just don¡¯t go across the boundary fence, or throw anything over there.¡±


    ¡°I promise,¡± he said.


    ¡°Be sure you keep that promise, and all will be well. So, Master Rob, I¡¯m going to go inside and drink a cup of tea and get my day clothes on. After that, will you show me what you want to do to my garden? I can tell it needs a good hand on it. Are you a good hand?¡±


    ¡°Lady Elaine told me I was,¡± the young man said.


    ¡°Good. So what do you think about hollyhocks?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re beautiful, but will take over a garden bed..¡±


    <hr>


    It was early in the work day in Goblin Market, and the Dragon Web station was busy coming to life, with freight handlers and travel carriage crews and technicians wandering into their work stations, and the early shift counter personnel began to ready their stations. A bell rang in the VIP transport section, surprising the work crews, and the transport workers hurried to their stations to secure the carriage.


    The carriage, large and luxurious, only held a few people: Gabbro Bryony and his retinue, two ceremonial guards, and sitting next to Bryony, Umber Madrona.


    The travel carriage creaked as it was secured in position, the voices of the crew outside as they secured it penetrating the quiet room.


    The older investigator turned to his companion. ¡°It was good working with you, Umber Madrona,¡± Bryony said to the young dragonkin man, still dressed in his formal uniform, a little dusty from wear, but still making a sharp impression. The clothes, though, couldn¡¯t disguise the mix of fatigue, appreciation, and anxiety in the young man¡¯s face. ¡°You made an excellent orderly.


    Umber nodded, beamed under the praise. ¡°I will always remember this,¡± he said. ¡°Thank you, sir, for bringing me along, although I wish the end had ended up better.¡±


    ¡°And I wish I could stay and tell that supervisor a thing or two, especially since we know he¡¯s got his fingers in the local smuggling business. Keep an eye on him. If he deals with the wrong people ¨C well, let us know. His official contact is with a Daoine named Rustin. Anybody else, signal me. I doubt if he will, but still ¨C there¡¯s a lot at stake, and someone wants to make everything topsy turvy.¡±


    He scratched the back of his neck. ¡°That¡¯s the thing with investigating. No matter how carefully you plan, sometimes it doesn¡¯t turn out the way we plan. But this still was quite useful. We might not have yet found out who was using Shulan as a channel to smuggle, but we interrupted that person¡¯s trade network. We don¡¯t know who¡¯s trying to unbalance long balanced ways of doing things, but this will please our allies, and perhaps open up another path to investigate.¡±


    Umber nodded.


    Bryony sighed. ¡°But now you have to go back and finish your first year. I hope this taste of some of what investigating can sometimes be like will help you through the drudge work of paperwork and a boss who could be better. Hang in there, and write me when your year is nearly done. I have good hopes for you, son.¡±


    ¡°Thank you very much, sir. I will be sure to stay in touch. I hope at some point in the future, you can let me know how this situation turns out.¡±


    Bryony nodded. ¡°I will if I can. You have some right to know, since you were involved. Stay in touch. And in your letters home, tell your uncle hello for me. Now, I have to get back to Sunderland. You have to face your supervisor. And I will have to face mine. Master Investigator will be more than interested in what happened. No telling where he¡¯ll send me next. He has the ability to see connecting threads when nobody else even has a glimmer they are there.¡± He smiled at the young man. ¡°Another bit of wisdom from the DIC manual. ¡®First you plan. Then you act. Take a day to let it sink in. Then back to the grind.¡¯¡± He gave the young man a pat on the back. ¡°I hope you get your day.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, sir.¡± Umber said. He stood up from his seat in the carriage, and saluted Byrony.


    Byrony motioned to one of the other attendants, who opened the carriage door, and Umber walked out.


    Lana, the blue dragonkin woman who had befriended him earlier, had made some sort of excuse to leave her counter and was standing near the carriage. She gave him a little wave, but before he could say anything to her, Thornfield Witstone, his boss, stepped forward.


    ¡°Might as well get out of that fancy uniform, Umber. Get your things put away and then head back to the office. There¡¯s a stack of paperwork on your desk waiting for you. Wouldn¡¯t want to get ink all over it.¡±


    ¡°I guess I don¡¯t get that day,¡± Umber muttered, picked up his bag from where the porter put it, and headed to his quarters.


    <hr>


    Cullin the Tree Shepherd sat in a tree near the boundary of his land, looking at the activity going on at Pixie Hollow as Gan Thistleberry and the young man from Lady Elaine¡¯s estates walked through the garden area near the little house. Pixie Hollow was a fairly narrow strip of farm land, longer than it was wide. Once it had grown enough wheat and peas and barley to bring prosperity to a large family, with surplus to trade, but those days were long gone, gone before the pixies moved in, and only the remnants of the plow furrows undulating over the open fields where Blowie and Cin, Gan¡¯s cows, grazed contentedly showed what had been done in the past.


    One of Gan¡¯s goats came near the border fence, and began browsing on a shrub that had grown there. Cullin looked down at it.


    ¡°Having a good time here?¡± He asked it. ¡°Eating things that only grew here because the forest is generous with its bounty?¡±


    The goat looked up at him, chewing, as if she were contemplating his words, then went back to eating the shrub.


    ¡°I wish you could tell me why Sulis told me to keep an eye on Gan Thistleberry, but no doubt that would be too much to ask of you.¡± He scratched the back of his neck.


    The goat baahed, as if in agreement, and then, having done a serious amount of pruning on the bush it had grazed, moved on to find other things to eat.


    A raven circled overhead, then as the goat wandered off, came in for a landing on a branch near where Cullin was sitting.


    ¡°Talking to goats now, are we?¡± the raven said.


    ¡°I talk to you, Morvran. What¡¯s the difference?¡±


    ¡°I talk back,¡± Morvran said, turning his head to get a better look at the Tree Shepherd. ¡°Did the goat?¡±


    ¡°What makes you think that chatter is better?¡±


    Morvran cawed and fluttered his wings. ¡°Maybe I should go find Leila and get her to figure out why you¡¯re in such a mood.¡± When Cullin didn¡¯t react, he turned to look over the field to see what Cullin was looking at.


    ¡°Gan Thistleberry, out and about today,¡± Morvran said. ¡°And who¡¯s that with her?¡±


    ¡°I believe they called him Rob. He was here the day the work party started. He seemed to think I was going to throw mud at him, and the rest of the people there.¡±


    As he watched, Rob stuck a stick of wood in the ground and attached a string to it, then paced off a number of steps, and poked another stick in the ground and tied the string to that.


    ¡°What¡¯s he doing?¡± the bird asked.


    ¡°Measuring, I believe,¡± Cullin replied. He watched as the young man paced even more steps, more than double the first amount, and poked in a third stick. To this he dutifully tied another string.


    ¡°Are they going to build something?¡± Morvran asked. ¡°I¡¯ve seen house builders in the villages near here use that trick.¡±


    ¡°More likely a garden,¡± Cullin replied. ¡°They¡¯ve been walking around and working in the gardens by the house.¡±


    ¡°Never understand why people plant gardens. Enough plants growing everywhere without making them a special place.¡± Morvran picked at a piece of moss growing on the tree branch he had perched on.


    ¡°Cabbages and onions like Gan fed you don¡¯t grow in the wild,¡± the Tree Shepherd remarked. ¡°You liked those well enough.¡±


    ¡°I liked the bacon better. Don¡¯t need gardens to grow pigs.¡±


    Cullin slipped of the tree. ¡°I¡¯ll come see her later.¡±


    Then, using his magic, he was gone.

 Day 11 of the Warming Month, Continued

    Chapter 32


    Treat meetings like an adventure. The right meeting can send you down unexpected paths to great gain, or down an abyss of despair. You don¡¯t always know in advance. This is why meetings over food are recommended. You don¡¯t necessarily know when you¡¯ll get your next meal.


    Advice to the Young   - Flysch Graben, co-founder of Briarwood and Flysch


    Unaware of the attention of the Tree Shepherd and raven across the field from where they were working, Gan Thistleberry stepped back and looked at the outline of the garden bed Rob Woodway had staked out.


    ¡°So you really think I need a vegetable garden this big?¡± Gan asked Rob.


    He gave the cord he had stretched out between stakes a twang to test for tightness and stood up. ¡°Unless you want to run over to one of the villages or Goblin Market every time you need a new cabbage, yes,¡± he said, dusting his hands off, and nodding. ¡°My ma, she¡¯d probably say it wasn¡¯t big enough, but she¡¯s used to feeding a houseful of kids and grandkids. It takes a lot of growing to feed a household.¡±


    ¡°All I have on a daily basis is me and a houseful of pixies. I suspect they eat a lot less.¡± Gan shrugged her shoulders. ¡°But still it takes something. I guess I was spoiled living in a city for so long. I forgot how cabbages don¡¯t grow in market stalls. It¡¯s been a long time since I lived in the country.¡±


    ¡°Life would be a lot easier to my back if they did,¡± Rob said, laughing at the image. It was a merry chuckle, not aimed at Gan, and she joined him with a chuckle.


    ¡°Cabbages don¡¯t grow in market stalls?¡± asked Rosebud, who landed on one of the stakes Rob had pushed into the ground. ¡°I am so confused. My mother always told me they did. And apples and carrots and beans, too.¡±


    ¡°When have you ever been to a market?¡± asked Hilby. ¡°You never went closer to Goblin Market than Redrock. And that¡¯s the nearest one.¡±


    ¡°My mother knew everything,¡± Rosebud said, flying off in a huff. ¡°She went everywhere!¡±


    Hilby shrugged, adjusted his cap, and flew off after her. ¡°Rosebud, I didn¡¯t mean...¡±


    ¡°Are they always like that?¡± Rob asked. ¡°A bit daft?¡±


    Gan nodded. ¡°It¡¯s like being surrounded by young children all the time,¡± she said. ¡°I had lots of practice at that at my old school. It¡¯s probably why we get along so well.¡± She looked up at the sky. ¡°It¡¯s time I put on lunch. Let¡¯s take a break. While I¡¯m cooking we can figure out how we¡¯re going to do all of these wonderful things you want to do to my gardens.¡±


    Gan strode purposefully towards her front door, leading a slightly nervous Rob who kept a close eye out for her little companions.


    Soon as she walked through the door, Moxie landed on Gan¡¯s shoulder.


    ¡°You were outside a long time,¡± the little woman said.


    ¡°There¡¯s a lot to do,¡± Gan said. ¡°Rob, sit down there.¡± She pointed to a chair next to the one she usually sat in. ¡°Pixies, we¡¯re going to have company at lunch. Be nice to him.¡± Walking over to the fireplace, she swung the pot she had left simmering while they were outside close enough where she could easily reach it. Lifting off the lid, she let out clouds of steam and a delicious aroma that filled the kitchen.


    ¡°Oooh,¡± Moxie said. ¡°More steam clouds.¡± She rose up close enough to admire them but not get scalded.


    ¡°They smell better than tea water clouds,¡± Arne said, dropping from the roof and landing on the table. He gave Rob a look that made it was clear he was thinking about something when Gan¡¯s cat jumped into the young man¡¯s lap.


    ¡°Well hello there,¡± Rob said, stroking the back of the animal. Somehow Pye managed to both rise up to enjoy Rob¡¯s petting while giving Arne a look that let him know he was being watched. The little pixie sighed, and went down to sit at the edge of the table where he could watch Gan prepare lunch.


    ¡°Serves you right, meanie,¡± Moxie said, flitting down to him. ¡°Doesn¡¯t that soup smell good?¡±


    ¡°Sometimes I wonder about you,¡± Seamus said, dropping in next to the two. ¡°Didn¡¯t you hear what Mistress Gan said?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t do anything,¡± Arne protested.


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. You thought it,¡± Moxie said. ¡°Otherwise, the cat wouldn¡¯t have jumped up to guard the big person. Cat can tell.¡±


    Rob, being properly distracted by Pye, missed the pixie¡¯s conversation, but Gan didn¡¯t.


    She turned around, carrying two big bowls of soup, placing one in front of Rob and one at her place, following quickly with fresh bread and saucers for the pixies. ¡°You should listen to Moxie more, Arne. She¡¯s smart about what goes on here.¡± Sitting down, she began to cut the bread, offering some to Rob, and then breaking some up for the Pixies, followed quickly by soup in their saucers.


    ¡°Now eat!¡± she said, and everybody took her at her word.


    <hr>


    While Gan was fixing lunch after a morning of gardening decisions, on the White Isle, Ethne knocked on the door of the conference room at the Oldest¡¯s cottage by the sea, then opened the door to walk in with a tray of refreshments. This time, there were more people in attendance than the one a few days earlier. Bedwyr the Birch was there, at the Oldest¡¯s left side studying a paper he held in one hand, with a stack of several more in a pile in front of him. Next to him was Tevan Greybloom, his orderly, with pen and paper at the ready.


    To the Oldest¡¯s right, closest sat Sammisa, also with pen and paper, taking notes for the meeting in lieu of Ethne, her green hair cascading down her back. Next to her sat Ruell representing the White Circle and Haran the Magic Guard in specific. Missing from this table was anybody from the DIC.


    Ethne skillfully poured and served tea to all the members, and leaving a small tray of savories on the table for their refreshment. Some might have seen him as the Oldest¡¯s butler, but his job was far deeper than that, and he observed each guest carefully as he served. With a quick glance at the Oldest, who gave him a hidden sign to commence, he bowed, and left the room to take up residence in a small chamber next to the conference room. It was where he had his refreshments set up to restock if necessarily, but it also had a hidden panel that he activated with a touchstone, that allowed him to listen to and watch the conversation, and next to that his own paper and pen.


    ¡°How many years have I been doing this?¡± he asked himself as he settled down to work. Pouring himself his own cup of tea, and dipping his pen in the ink, he got ready to record.


    The Oldest looked at the gathered people sitting in front of her. With calm blue eyes she studied everybody¡¯s faces. There was fatigue still in the eyes of those who had been out in the field and who were still in the middle of overseeing the followup of their mission with the DIC, but no particular angst or anger. She took a sip of her tea, feeling its warmth and tartness soothing her throat as she thought about how to open the discussion.


    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    ¡°So, our first mission between the King¡¯s Guard, the White Circle and the DIC has finished. What is our impression of it? Will it be worth it to continue these missions?¡± she asked.


    Bedwyr rubbed his chin. ¡°Gabbro Byrony was very professional.¡± There were agreement nods from the other members. ¡°He came in with staff, strong intelligence, excellent logistics. As far as we could verify, he hid nothing back necessary for the operation. He was open to our ideas of how to handle our men¡¯s deployment. It was a useful event.¡±


    ¡°He worked as a team member, and didn¡¯t pull rank,¡± Ruell added. He grabbed a small savory pastry off of the tray left for them. ¡°It seemed to me that he has had experience in doing group operations. I wonder how often the DIC does activities like this?¡± He took a bite, and chewed it thoughtfully.


    ¡°They are good at policing their own,¡± the Oldest said. ¡°We have sent reports from time to time over the years about fraud, usually, and they seem to handle them with seriousness and speed.¡±


    ¡°Sadly for us all, the one lead we had to who is behind this boom in smuggling died during the operation,¡± the Birch said. ¡°Byrony took a case of the contraband back with him, though. He thought his experts might be able to learn something about its sourcing.¡± He rubbed the tip of his nose. ¡°If we¡¯re lucky, and it doesn¡¯t involve one of the big firms, like Briarwood and Flysch, we might even hear something back about it.¡± His tone on that last bit was doubtful.


    The Oldest picked up her tea cup again. ¡°Tell me about it. It was one of the Dragon Web people from Greshold¡¯s Keep? Amron Shulan, I believe? Isn¡¯t that one of the B&F stations?¡±


    ¡°That is correct, Oldest. And Shulan was one of the people there we had been keeping an eye on. He had long been a thorn in the side of the King¡¯s Guard there, from what I understand, and had been reported from time to time doing trade unauthorized either by us or Redbeard¡¯s people.¡±


    ¡°According to my reports,¡± the Birch said, thumbing through his papers, until he found the one he wanted, ¡°Once or twice the DIC had showed up to talk to him. Some gossip that the local DIC people were winking at what was going on. I asked him about it, but he clammed up. Damn Dragonkin and their opaque internals.¡±


    ¡°Byrony confirmed it was suicide. The Dragonkin have a way of viewing the scene shortly before death,¡± Ruell said, with a shiver. ¡°It¡¯s very clean for us watching from the sidelines, but eerie, like watching a moving series of pictures projected on a wall showing what has happened. It¡¯s only good for the last few minutes of the victim¡¯s life. Seems Shulan had a panic attack after he discovered he was surrounded and all his bolt holes were sealed off. We¡¯re not sure if was the fear of being cut off from Blazendraught or fear of the person he was doing business for, but he cut his own throat right about the time we entered the front door of his cabin.¡±


    ¡°If he was worried about being cut off from Blazendraught, it sounds like he thought he¡¯d be accused of more than just unauthorized smuggling,¡± the Oldest said. ¡°That sounds like he felt like he was part of breach of the Dragonkin pact.¡± She steepled long, slender fingers together. ¡°I wonder...¡±


    ¡°Or that he would be accused of it. Or the person he was working for would accuse him of it.¡± Bedwyr added. ¡°An added layer of confusion to untease.¡±


    ¡°He had been an important part of the sanction smuggling for a long time. I wonder what Redbeard is thinking. Don¡¯t be surprised if we hear about purges in the people he works with. Nobody¡¯s ever challenged his stranglehold on the trade coming through before,¡± Ruell said. ¡°He has to be worried about having been infiltrated. Gold brings loyalty more than he does.¡±


    ¡°I¡±m wondering if my people in the field have been compromised. I know Shulan had some contacts with some of them.¡± The Birch made a note of his own on a tablet next to his elbow. ¡°I wonder if that¡¯s why I haven¡¯t heard from certain people.¡±


    ¡°Ruell, Haran, we need to check on the people we work with that he might have had access to,¡± the Oldest said, ¡°and where possible, move them elsewhere. Vet them all over again, and who they work with. We can¡¯t move them all ¨C that would be a blaring signal.¡±


    ¡°True,¡± Ruell said. ¡°Enide and Arash have already started working on that. They went down to Brightwater yesterday while you were busy elsewhere.¡±


    The Oldest nodded in approval.


    Bedwyr cleared his throat. ¡°Beyond that, I¡¯ve already got people working on the contacts of the men we picked up. One was basically a band of up and coming mercenaries, not far from being bandits themselves, but Mizak has many contacts in the trade circles. We¡¯ll be going through what we know of Shulan¡¯s people. We¡¯ve already brought in Brindan Ochre. He likes to act all soft and clumsy and cooperative, but he¡¯s an extremely sharp operator. We might ask the DIC with help on him. They have some methods that we can¡¯t use. I¡¯m surprised Byrony didn¡¯t pick him up on the way home.¡± Birch said.


    ¡°Or the people at the local DIC office, while he was at it,¡± Ruell said.


    ¡°Oh, I think that¡¯s in the works,¡± Haran said. ¡°I received word right before our meeting that one of Byrony¡¯s seconds stopped off at Greshold¡¯s Keep this morning with a team.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s going to be interesting finding out what they discover,¡± the Oldest said. ¡°Here¡¯s hoping that they honor their agreement to share it.¡±


    <hr>


    Umber Madrona plopped himself in his usual corner of the Dragon Web lunch room, tired and with ink-stained fingers. Thornfield hadn¡¯t been lying about the mound of paperwork waiting for him. There were transport form after transport form that had to be registered, logged, calculated and filed sitting on his desk, practically every bit of commercial shipping that had gone through the station over the days he had been gone. Instead of completing the work, Thornfield had just saved it up for him.


    ¡°At least I¡¯m lucky that today is a slow transport day,¡± Umber muttered to himself. He didn¡¯t even have time to go get a proper lunch made, much less make one himself. Instead, he was eating field rations, leftover from his trip with Byrony. ¡°And at least I¡¯m lucky to have packed that away. Otherwise it would have been getting something from the traveler¡¯s cafe. Last time I ate there I was sick for three days.¡±


    He opened the ration kit. There was a small can, a bag, and some sort of wafer thin item in a white paper wrapping, a spoon and a dull knife. He started with the wafer, when a shadow fell over his food. He looked up, and saw Lana standing there, her lunch box in hand.


    ¡°Wanna tell me all about it?¡± she said, her blue ruff tinged extra bright with anticipation. ¡°What was it like working with someone like Gabbro Byrony? Was it as exciting as you hoped?¡± She slid into the seat across from him and began to lay out her lunch.


    ¡°Byrony is everything I want to be as a DIC officer ¨C thorough, knowing, caring, competent, able to be totally focused on the job at hand, and yet have time to treat his people with respect and interest,¡± Umber said. ¡°If I can hold on through this year, maybe one day I¡¯ll be like him.¡± He sighed and started opening up his lunch. The paper wrapped wafer was hard and brown.


    ¡°Your boss isn¡¯t making it easy for you, is he?¡± Lana asked.


    Umber shook his head. ¡°Byrony told me that they send the people they think have the most promise to the worst DIC stations for their first year. They want to shake out the ones who want to be in the DIC for lesser reasons, I guess. He didn¡¯t quite come out and say Goblin Market was one of those¡­¡±


    Lana lifted her bread and meat wrap up, getting ready to take a bite. ¡°But you believe he meant it that way.¡± She bit.


    Umber nodded. ¡°It gave me hope, any way.¡± He pressed a touchstone on the bag part of his lunch. It began to warm.


    ¡°I believe him,¡± Lana replied, wiping her chin. ¡°You are very meticulous and focused on your job, and you don¡¯t let things escape notice. But at the same time, you take the effort to be polite, and even nice to the people you interact with. I saw how you were with Lady Arriane. You impressed her well enough she came by to say hello while you were out.¡±


    Surprise lit up Umber¡¯s face. ¡°She did?¡±


    ¡°I saw her coming out of the DIC office. She wasn¡¯t all that pleased with old Thorny.¡±


    ¡°Ssh. Don¡¯t let him hear you call him that!¡± Umber said, somewhat shocked.


    ¡°You think he¡¯ll pull me in for an interrogation? Half the station calls him that.¡± She took another bite of her lunch. ¡°Besides, my family controls some of the special products he likes to pretend aren¡¯t coming into the station. On the shipments he doesn¡¯t let you inspect. That he makes extra money on sending them onto Meridae. He wouldn¡¯t dare make them mad.¡±


    ¡°Your family has connections with Brightwater?¡± Umber asked. He wasn¡¯t sure which surprised him more, Lana¡¯s connection to Redbeard¡¯s sanctioned smuggling or the realization that Thornfield was busy turf protecting. He tore open the bag that held his heated food, a meat patty with woeful looking vegetables.


    ¡°It¡¯s just a little side business. They are mostly involved with commodities like foodstuffs and cloth items. Let¡¯s not talk about that. I¡¯m here to get away from economics and buying and selling. My family wasn¡¯t too happy about that, me flirting with Transportation as a career, but I think it suits me better.¡±


    ¡°You have to go where your heart calls you,¡± Umber said, nodding. He took a bite of his ration. It tasted better than it looked, and he began to eat in earnest.


    She nodded. Her ruff picked up color, pleased at his comment. ¡°And yours is calling you to outlast your boss and become a star in the DIC. And I bet you make it.¡± She took the last bite of her lunch. ¡°And I want to do what I can to help you do it.¡±


    This time it was his spikes that grew brighter at her words.


    ¡°When¡¯s your next day off?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Three or four days from now, I guess,¡± he said. ¡°I have to check the schedule. He may have rearranged it because of my time with Byrony. Why?¡±


    ¡°I want to have a picnic. At that special place I was telling you about, where I go when I miss the rocks too much. You want to come?¡±


    His eyes opened wide, and the colors on his spikes grew even brighter. ¡°Me?¡±


    She laughed. ¡°Yes, you, you silly. Let me know when your day off is. Think of it as part of my ¡°Help Get Umber Through His First Year¡± plan. I wasn¡¯t raised by a mercantile family for nothing. I understand these things.¡±


    Umber decided then and there that maybe this day wasn¡¯t going so bad after all.

 Day 11 of the Warming Month, Continued 2

    Chapter 33


    When Gandaran brought the first of the Dragonkin safely to Sunderland, it is said that he sat all the people down in groups, and looked deep into their hearts. There was passion there, grief for the world they lost, anger at what the Lifegiver and the Father of Fire had allowed to happen, but above all, there was greed. Greed to accumulate, to heap treasure on treasure, no matter what the cost. Even the loss of their old home could not put that fire out.


    It is said that he searched the whole of the Dragonkin until he found what he was looking for ¨C a smaller set of dragons, plain gray in color. But in these dragons, there was no love of gold or acquisition. Instead, these dragons burned with the need for truth and justice. No payment would be great enough, no need for vengeance strong enough to break their desire for the right thing to be done.


    ¡°Come, my children,¡± he said. ¡°Forget these other things. I have a greater task than all the gold in the world. Your job will not be buying or selling or building or moving or making elixirs. Your job will be to see that every soul of our people follow the pact. On your shoulders, the whole fate of the Dragonkin rest. Never stop investigating. Make sure justice prevails.¡±


    Never forget this, recruits. You have a sacred duty. On your heads rest the future of us all.


    Graduation Speech of Master Investigator Rimbaud Greypitch, in Collected Speeches , DIC Press


    Gabbro Byrony returned once again to DIC headquarters. Heads turned as he walked in to the office, curiosity mixed with a certain tension. This surprised him.


    ¡°Something happen while I was out?¡± he said.


    Heads dropped, and went back to their work, a couple of people shrugged.


    ¡°You¡¯ll find out,¡± Marin Greenstone, a specialist in forensic analysis, muttered. ¡°Learn it from better people than me.¡±


    Tansy Slateshard, sitting in her chair near his office door, stood up, made a gesture to his office, then slipped off to the break room.


    Taking her lead, he went to his office and stepped through the door. There was a new stack of papers waiting for him to check out, multiple reports in neat folders.


    ¡°Gone for less than a week, and look how much things pile up. Wonder what came through?¡± He gave them a quick once over. Two caught his immediate attention. ¡°News from Harani?¡± That one turned out to be a report about Zefed Drumlin, the manager with Sinter Acquisitions who had made an offer on Xendo¡¯s Freehold before the miners there were murdered.


    He opened the report. Drumlin had been found dead. Sinter Acquisitions were calling it suicide, and blocking DIC as well as they could from any serious investigation.


    ¡°Damn,¡± he said. ¡°What is going on?¡±


    The other was a missing persons report. It had been flagged to him because the missing person was connected to no-space transportation research. He read the brief summary outloud. ¡°Violetta Greenleaf, works for B&F. Last reported location was in Runi Blahn. On vacation. Was expected back a month ago. More Harani mess.¡± His male spikes on the top of his head darkened. ¡°Oh, Master Investigator is going to love this one.¡± His head began to ache.


    The door to his office opened up, and Tansy walked, bearing a file and a large steaming cup of tea that she placed next to him.


    ¡°Catching up, I see,¡± she said, as he closed the file and put it back on the stack. ¡°How did your operation go?¡±


    ¡°It was odd, working so openly with the Ynys Afel people, but those people are pros in their way, every bit as much as we are. I think we should coordinate more, if you want my upfront opinion.¡± He picked up the cup of tea, and took a sip, then made a face. ¡°You put spice in it?¡±


    Tansy gave him a gentle smile as she sat down on the corner of his desk. ¡°I figured you¡¯re probably going to need it. Master Investigator will be here any time. He¡¯s been bringing President Grimsbeard up to date, and no doubt he¡¯ll be feeling the need for spiced tea by the time he gets here. He does most of the time he visits the president.¡±


    ¡°Thanks for the warning,¡± he said, and took another sip of his tea. Spice, a dragonkin concoction was well known for its anxiety-relieving and calming influence. Tansy stayed on top of things; if she thought he would find it useful today, he wasn¡¯t going to fight her on it.


    ¡°All the gossip around here is about Asper Bloodstone going down with a team to Greshold¡¯s Keep and maybe Brightwater. That old Shulan has passed and Ochre is singing like a canary.¡±


    ¡°Good of Ochre,¡± Byrony said.


    ¡°Did you have something to do with this?¡± Tansy asked. Her ruff signaled strong curiosity. She leaned in for a moment.


    Byrony swallowed. Tansy was very good at tweaking information out of people, but luckily for him, there was a knock at the door.


    Tansy stood up. ¡°Well, I wanted to give you this before he got here,¡± she said, handing him a file. ¡°It¡¯s a report about that logo you wanted.¡± Turning, she walked to the door, and opened it up.


    ¡°Oh, Master Investigator, how pleasant to see you today.¡± Turning to the right, she headed back to her desk.


    ¡°Getting the Tansy treatment?¡± Master Inquisitor asked, strolling into the room.


    ¡°As usual, Sir,¡± Bryony said with a shrug.


    ¡°Things are getting more and more complex, and Grimsbeard is breathing down my neck to get it cleared. Let¡¯s go into the war room. Let¡¯s see if we can get anything, anything, into focus. Even a crumb would be more than what we have right now.¡±


    They walked into a large, private room that only those with special keys could enter. It had a small foyer, and as they walked through it, Byrony recognized the lurch of no space transportation, and then the tingle of magical security fields.


    ¡°You¡¯ve moved the room?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Seemed a reasonable precaution. There¡¯s too much we don¡¯t know and I¡¯d rather do my thinking somewhere away from leaks or accidental reveals.¡± Master Investigator sighed as he opened the final door. ¡°Not that I don¡¯t trust the staff at DIC Central, but¡­¡±


    ¡°Things happen,¡± Byrony responded. ¡°Straight out of the Operations Manual.¡±


    ¡°Exactly.¡± Master Investigator stepped into the center of the room, raised his arms, and turned around in a slow circle. ¡°Welcome to the new war room. I¡¯ve diagrammed all the anomalies we have discovered the last several years. Help me find the pattern.¡±


    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    <hr>


    At Pixie Hollow, Rob Woodward looked at the table in front of him. It was oval, with a nice white cloth spread over it and a quilted runner that ran down the center. His place was set with a napkin and spoon and a small plate, as was Gan Thistleberry¡¯s. The runner was set with three saucers. Next to Gan¡¯s place was a bread board with a large uncut loaf, and at the far end, closer to where he sat, was a pie.


    ¡°Now don¡¯t pester our company,¡± Gan said, handing out pieces of bread to the gathered pixies. ¡°There¡¯s plenty to go around, but if you¡¯re rude, no pie!¡±


    ¡°You better listen,¡± Moxie said, giving Arne an elbow.


    Rob tasted his soup. It was excellent, thick with bacon and cabbage and peas and potatoes and carrots, with little pieces of onion floating in the broth. ¡°So good, ma¡¯am,¡± he said, taking another spoonful.


    ¡°Mistress Gan is the best cook,¡± Dahlia said, scooping up some soup with her bread. ¡°Even Leila can¡¯t cook like this.¡±


    ¡°Leila?¡± Rob asked.


    ¡°She¡¯s a nymph who lives in Cullin¡¯s Forest. She¡¯s nice,¡± Moxie said. ¡°She loves sugar cookies. And she shares!¡±


    ¡°So good,¡± said Rosebud. ¡°I don¡¯t know what¡¯s better, apple pie or sugar cookies.¡±


    Rob broke a bit of his slice of bread off and dipped it into his soup before popping it in his mouth. ¡°Is it always like this at meal time?¡±


    ¡°Absolutely,¡± Gan said, nodding. ¡°Plenty of talk and eating. Sometimes little arguments.¡± Noticing one of the saucers was getting a little low, she got up and put a little more into it, and sliced a little more bread for her house guests. ¡°Let me know if you want seconds.¡±


    ¡°It kind of reminds me of my mother¡¯s table, when all the family¡¯s together. Except none of us are small enough to fly.¡±


    ¡°Your mother makes soup?¡± Gillie asked, snatching a piece of bread that Rufus was reaching for. The little man was about to snatch it back when Gan caught his eye, and sighing, he accepted another piece she handed to him.


    ¡°Oh yes,¡± Rob said. ¡°Good soup. Very nice after a day ploughing.¡±


    ¡°That reminds me, Rob,¡± Gan said, breaking a piece off her own chunk of bread. ¡°Who¡¯s idea was it for you to come out and be my gardener?¡±


    ¡°Lady Arriane brought it up. She said something to Lady Elaine about how much work it was to get everything done over here single handedly, and she knew that my folks live at Breckenholt, just down the road a piece from here, and I¡¯d be a lot closer to them than at Allynswood, and one thing led to another, and I¡¯m here. I think I¡¯m here for as long as you can use me, in fact.¡±


    There was a little pleading behind the young man¡¯s eyes, not too loud, but Gan picked up on it.


    ¡°Well, I think I can definitely use a hand around this place, what with the gardening, and the orchards and the animals. So tell me about Breckenholt and your family.¡±


    ¡°Well Breckenholt is a small place. There¡¯s ten or so families who work their and Lady Elaine¡¯s land there. Mostly wheat and sheep and some peas.¡± He took another spoon of soup, then continued. ¡°My dad¡¯s getting bad in the back, though, so I like to be there for ploughing and haying time. Lady Elaine¡¯s been real good about working with me on this.¡±


    ¡°She is good that way,¡± Gan said, nodding. ¡°Seamus, let Rosebud get to the soup, if you please.¡± She gave the little pixie a hard look, and Seamus dropped his head and scooted over. ¡°You have any brothers and sisters?¡±


    ¡°Two older brothers, and an older sister. Oldest brother is with the King¡¯s Guard. Next oldest brother works part time for the smith in Goblin Market. Older sister is married and lives in Breckenholt. And I have two younger sisters and a baby brother.¡±


    Dahlia stared up at the young man. ¡°That¡¯s a lot.¡±


    Gan sighed. ¡°I was an only child. It must be nice to have a big family of people who belong with you.¡±


    ¡°Sometimes,¡± he said, nodding. ¡°Sometimes, when tempers get frayed, it¡¯s the opposite.¡± He spread some butter on a piece of bread. ¡°You should have seen the fights when Jabeth announced he was going to enlist in the King¡¯s Guard. I don¡¯t think I ever saw my mother get so angry. She calmed down a little when she found out he was going out with Lord Gweir. A little.¡±


    ¡°Sometimes its hard for parents to let go,¡± Gan said. ¡°More soup?¡±


    ¡°Just a little, ma¡¯am,¡± Rob said, lifting up his bowl.


    Those pixies who hadn¡¯t drifted off with full tummies to take a nap and who were paying attention nodded with approval.


    <hr>


    There was a raw, rather new camp of the King¡¯s Guard on the high country not far from the town of Tantis, overlooking the high road to Brightwater and Greshold¡¯s Keep beyond. It was mostly serious business. A circle of prisoner no space carriages rested within a fenced enclosure, with an office building in the center for processing and questioning. The compound was sparkling with magic to prevent escapes. Barrack buildings, also no space capable, lined one side, and a small group of other buildings stood to one side: mess hall, infirmary, chapel, and bearing a single banner, headquarters. To the right of them, in a small, slightly more elaborate structure, the banner read DIC with the unblinking eye logo.


    Gweir Blackthorn left the prisoner compound and walked across the field the buildings surrounded. There were men doing weapons training half heartedly, and off to the side, a small group were playing ball. Everywhere, there was a feeling both of a job done well, and fatigue.


    ¡°Time for a break, I think,¡± he said to himself. ¡°Or at least a change of scene. It¡¯s been weeks since we started with Havron, and it¡¯s started to show.¡±


    He waved to the men playing ball, then stepped into the headquarters building. Walking to Havron¡¯s office, he stopped and knocked.


    ¡°Enter,¡± a voice said.


    He walked into the office and saluted. Sael Havron was bent over some paperwork, pen in hand.


    ¡°I believe we¡¯ve rounded up the last of Mizak¡¯s operatives, sir,¡± Gweir said. ¡°At least the last on the list you gave us.¡± He held out a set of papers to Havron.


    Havron looked up and nodded. ¡°Have a seat, son.¡±


    Gweir settled down in the proffered chair, while Havron continued.


    ¡°It¡¯s been a busy few days, Blackthorn, and your team has worked excellently together, and to be honest, beyond my expectation. The Birch chose well when he picked you and your men. As for Mizak¡¯s people, I doubt if we got them all. That man is as slimy as a snake,¡± he said. ¡°And he¡¯s been at this a long time, even back when he worked mostly from the Shadowlands. Still, I suspect we put a big hurt on his operation. Between him being caught and Shulan being no more, it¡¯ll take a while for anybody to build back the operation he was running, especially since Jared Redbeard will be vetting anybody who tries from here to Ynys Afel and back.¡±


    ¡°Maybe all the way to Sunderland, even,¡± Gweir said, leaning forward in his seat.


    Havron chuckled. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be surprised. It¡¯s got to be a big setback for whoever was trying to muscle in on Redbeard¡¯s turf, but don¡¯t consider it over. We¡¯ll have to keep an eye on our official smuggler king.¡±


    Gweir tapped on the arm of his chair. ¡°You think he could be persuaded?¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t bet against it,¡± Havron replied, closing the folder of papers he had been working on. ¡°There¡¯s bound to be a lot of pressure on him. Don¡¯t think that someone won¡¯t come in from the Shadowlands to try, especially if this was an operation run from there. With the Trows, well, let¡¯s just say the politics of causing trouble to the Sunlit lands is a high priority. Queen Bercha is always looking for a gap to expand, and where she goes, darkness follows. And she has the Trow lord firmly in hand, no matter what the Tower of Ru says.¡±


    Gweir rubbed the back of his neck. ¡°I leave that to people above my pay grade, sir.¡±


    ¡°Good choice,¡± Havron said, nodding.


    ¡°Any news from Greshold¡¯s Keep?¡± Gweir asked. ¡°I know it¡¯s not really my need to know, but I had to work with that slime Shulan long enough¡­¡±


    ¡°Byrony sent in a squad, and they even brought in some high ranking people from B&F.¡±


    ¡°Wonder what good that¡¯ll do?¡± Gweir pursed his lips. ¡°You think they¡¯ll change anything they do? Greshold¡¯s Keep has to be a pure money pit for them.¡±


    ¡°Rumor is that Shulan had been cooking the books for a long time, and cutting B&F out of their share of the profits. If anything¡¯ll grab their attention, that will. So maybe. Time will tell. Another rumor is that the DIC is replacing their staff there as well.¡±


    ¡°Really? Now that is surprising.¡± Gweir shook his head. ¡°Always thought that Tarhom was trustworthy sort. Never had any troubles dealing with him.¡±


    ¡°Speculation is that he was very good at looking the other way when it came to Shulan. For a small gratuity, mind you.¡±


    ¡°How¡¯d you hear all of this?¡± Gweir asked. He leaned forward in his seat, resting his hands of the edge of Havron¡¯s desk. ¡°DIC people are supposed to be the one unbribable group in all the Dragonkin. I mean, they charge for smuggled goods, but that¡¯s just a business fee. To take a payment like that¡­¡±


    ¡°Shulan¡¯s second.¡±


    ¡°You mean Ochre?¡± Gweir¡¯s voice was tinged with disbelief. ¡°He seemed so soft and flighty, the times I worked with him. If you said boo to him, he looked for places out of the line of fire.¡±


    ¡°He might have seemed soft, but evidently he was keeping score on everything. He knows every detail of everything Shulan was doing, except who Shulan¡¯s contact was. And he¡¯s been sharing it all. Maybe he¡¯s getting a little of his own back at the Dragonkin there. Wouldn¡¯t be surprised, but he was an excellent bookkeeper and kept meticulous records.¡± Havron gave Gweir a wicked smile. ¡°I suspect Bryony¡¯s going to have a field day.¡±


    He stood up, and Gweir followed suit. The two of them headed to the door. ¡°Give me two more days to process everybody here, Blackthorn. Then after that, take a couple of weeks off. You and your men have earned it. Go home, visit your wife. I suspect we¡¯ll have a lot to do to follow up with this after you get back.¡±


    Gweir saluted. ¡°Thank you, sir. That¡¯ll be welcome news to the men.¡± Opening the door, Gweir stepped outside, and hurried to his barracks.

 Day 11 of the Warming Month, Continued 3

    Chapter 34


    Two people see more than one person. Three people see more than two. But twenty people might see less than two. Don¡¯t be afraid of more than one pair of eyes. Too many eyes on a case can just make for blurry vision.


    DIC Manual


    At DIC headquarters, Bryony walked into Master Investigator¡¯s analysis room, what he called his war room, a place reserved for putting together information about complex cases. It was a moderately large space, brightly lit with what looked like daylight, but was the latest in Dragonkin magic lighting. Unlike many Dragonkin structures, it wasn¡¯t walled in treated stone; instead it was paneled in some like colored finish that made it easy to pin things to. One wall had a large map of the world filled with different color pins pushed into locales. Except for that space, the walls were lined with tables with stacks of papers and evidence items, and behind them, lists, smaller maps, pictures of people and scenes. Each table had a label in a different color, coordinating with the pins on the map: Transportation, Pharmaceuticals, Exploration, Finance, Trade ¨C each one of the great divisions of the Dragonkin way of business. There were two other tables. One was marked Unknown, but the final one was marked DIC.


    ¡°DIC included in your hunt, too, Master Investigator?¡± Bryony asked.


    ¡°Well, you know about the mess at Greshold¡¯s Keep,¡± the older dragonkin said. ¡°Not yet sure if they¡¯re the only ones yet.¡±


    Bryony nodded and moved to the center of the room, where there were a pair of desks facing each other, a table with a tea service, and another table filled with boxes of material and papers not yet processed. More boxes rested underneath it.


    ¡°You¡¯ve been busy, sir,¡± Byrony said.


    ¡°It¡¯s been a work in progress, as you know,¡± the older dragonkin said. ¡°But lately it¡¯s exploded. So I moved it here. And now I need you.¡±


    Master Investigator poured himself a cup of tea from the tea service that was waiting on the table, then collapsed into his chair. ¡°Help yourself to the tea if you want some. Won¡¯t be as good as Tansy¡¯s, but you can drink it in peace.¡±


    Bryony smiled at that. ¡°Sometimes, that¡¯s a perk.¡± He looked around the room one more time. ¡°You need me here? Does this mean you want me off the Xendo¡¯s Freehold case?¡±


    ¡°Not fully. I¡¯m pretty sure that case belongs on our list of things. And maybe a lot of what happened on the smuggler mission as well. Something¡¯s going on here. I can almost see it.¡±


    Bryony walked over to the map and looked where the pin clusters were densest. But even though there was a cluster in Harani, and another along the Border Lands, many of the pins were scattered in no real pattern across the map.


    ¡°Are you sure it¡¯s all one thing?¡± Bryony asked, brushing a finger lightly over the city of Comrie on the map where a bright red tipped pin stood out. ¡°I mean, couldn¡¯t it just be a group of individual events driven by different actors with their own plans?¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t rule that out,¡± said Master Investigator. ¡°Or the chance that there is one big connector that we¡¯ve roped some extra events into. ¡®Never go into an investigation with your mind already made up,¡± the manual says, and it¡¯s always good advice. He rubbed the back of his neck. ¡°But as I put the records together, it looks like something has been building for several years now. Five years ago, Sinter Acquisitions attempted to buy out the mine at Xendo¡¯s Freehold. When they refused, there was an attack at the mine supposedly under a Gallu leading a band of Huwawa. Rumor had it that an ancient artefact had been uncovered. Sinter tried again with the new owners. Someone came in and killed them in suspicious ways.¡±


    ¡°That does get the investigation reflex tingling,¡± Byrony said. ¡°Something¡¯s definitely going on in Harani. But what about all these other pins?¡± He walked back to the desks.


    ¡°Well, right around the time Sinter started checking out Xendo¡¯s Freehold, that¡¯s when the first no space researchers started disappearing.¡± Master Investigator took a sip of his tea. ¡°Every one of them were working on projects similar to jump stones. For a while we were wondering if B&F were trying to take down the competition.¡± He put his cup down. ¡°Started maybe six years ago, with a couple of Dwarf researchers, Gareth and Sam Greengain. Their case just might have been an accident ¨C they were looking for ways to improve moving mining ores and wastes more easily. Working in no space for the non Dragonkin can be really dangerous.¡±


    ¡°All the rest though were fairly well-respected researchers, if I remember right.¡± Byrony rubbed his chin. ¡°They would have known about and expected the dangers of the work, and had the resources to set up safely, I would think.¡±


    ¡°Indeed. These people were not amateurs. One of them even disappeared from a Redsticks laboratory. First rate military installation. Mareth would have had all the protective spells set up in advance, with failsafes and assistants nearby, which made it especially surprising.¡± Master Investigator slowly shook his head. ¡°None of these missing are Dragonkin, but anything that involves no space is something the DIC must look into.¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t have the non-Dragonkin doubting the safety of the Dragon Web,¡± Bryony said.


    ¡°If the Aos Si ever figure out how to use no space as well as we do, well that¡¯ll be a whole other issue, but until then, we need to find out happened. And then there¡¯s Gandaran. Whenever he moves in his sleep, something¡¯s going on. Something bad. We know it¡¯s not just a transport company taking out the researchers. That doesn¡¯t break the pact, and Gandaran wouldn¡¯t twitch a claw. But something going on is troubling him.¡±


    ¡°And so President Grimsbeard is breathing down your neck.¡± Byrony sat down across the desk from Master Investigator.


    ¡°And other eyes are looking, too. You know how my father was Master Investigator during the last Gandaran event. And how he missed the start of the the would-be rebellion.¡±


    ¡°People always talk, sir,¡± Bryony said. ¡°We can¡¯t stop them from being stupid. But we do need to provide some results.¡±


    ¡°Like breaking up Shulan¡¯s ring down at Greshold¡¯s Keep, perhaps?¡±


    ¡°That operation went very well, everything I could hope for, until Shulan took the coward¡¯s way out.¡± Bryony looked at the folders in his hands, that he had brought with him.


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    ¡°What do you have there?¡± Master Investigator asked.


    ¡°A couple of reports that came in while I was out. One¡¯s kind of connected to Xendo¡¯s Freehold. The manager of the explorations office that had made an offer on the mine before the murder...remember, he had stood me up and sent his second instead.¡±


    ¡°I remember your report,¡± Master Investigator said, nodding. He steepled his fingers. ¡°Let me guess. He turned up dead.¡±


    ¡°And they¡¯re trying to interfere with DIC investigating the death.¡± He handed the folder to his boss.


    ¡°Oh, we¡¯re going to so put someone on this,¡± Master Investigator said, thumbing through it quickly. ¡°Who do you recommend?¡±


    ¡°Maybe we should send Tansy,¡± Bryony replied. ¡°She could wheedle out information out of a dead plant.¡±


    Master Investigator flapped his wings and rolled his eyes. ¡°If only. I was thinking of putting Asper Bloodstone on it after he gets back from Greshold¡¯s Keep. He¡¯s one of your team. Opinion?¡±


    ¡°That mess might take longer than you think to clean up. We¡¯re going to want to reevaluate the entire DIC office there. He¡¯d be really good at it working over Sinter, though. Maybe send Sandrock to get things started. He can be very intimidating. It sounds like intimidating might be useful. Sinter Acquisitions is a rather slimy outfit, even for a small on the edge Dragonkin company that has dreams of reaching bigger heights, and a little intimidation might do them some good. ¡±


    ¡°You might be onto something,¡± the older dragonkin said, nodding. He made a note. ¡°What else do you have there?¡±


    ¡°Another missing person with no space connections.¡± Bryony handed the file to Master Investigator. ¡°This one¡¯s a Daoine who works for B&F.¡±


    ¡°Now that¡¯s a different one,¡± Master Investigator said, looking over the papers in the file. ¡°Maybe this will let us put the rumors about B&F to bed. Violetta Greenleaf. On vacation in...Harani? Last seen at Runi Blahn?¡±


    ¡°I thought that would catch your eye, sir.¡± Byrony said.


    Master Investigator got up and walked over to the large map on the wall, picked up a purple headed pin, and marked a spot on the Harani section of the map. The area around Runi Blahn had collected a number of them.


    ¡°What is going on in this part of the world?¡± he asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s going to take more than you and me to get to the bottom of this, sir. Let me put a small team together to help.¡±


    Master Investigator nodded. ¡°Be sure to include someone from Logistics. We¡¯re going to need to have someone convince the bean counters at Willowick that it¡¯ll take some gold. The president will have our back, but it¡¯s always useful to have someone who knows the talk.¡±


    ¡°Good idea. I was thinking about some technical people, too.¡±


    Master Investigator nodded. ¡°Just be sure to vet them carefully. This needs to be a tight operation.¡±


    ¡°Maybe we should add a liaison from the White Circle.¡± Bryony felt his spikes flush as he made that request. ¡°What I saw of them at the last operation let me know they run a first rate shop. And being Daoine, they might pick up on things we¡¯d entirely miss.¡±


    Master Investigator pondered Bryony¡¯s ask for several minutes. ¡°You have a point. And we promised them some feedback on our findings...Let me run this by President Grimsbeard. It¡¯d take permission from him. Get the rest of your team together. Bring whoever¡¯s ready to start here tomorrow. I¡¯ll see what we can do.¡±


    ¡°We never stop investigating,¡± Bryony said.


    Master Investigator gave him a toothy grin. ¡°Never.¡±


    <hr>


    One of the good things about being an expert in Domestic Magic is that it made cleanup after eating much easier.


    ¡°Any more pie?¡± Gan asked Rob, who was taking the last bite on his plate.


    ¡°No thanks, Ma¡¯am,¡± he said, pushing his plate away. ¡°But that was really delicious.¡±


    ¡°I told you she was the best cook in the world,¡± said Dahlia, flying up to look the young man in the eyes. ¡°Admit it!¡±


    ¡°She is very, very good,¡± Rob said. ¡°But I haven¡¯t eaten too many people¡¯s cooking, so I can¡¯t compare. Her pie is better than my mom¡¯s usual,¡± he admitted.


    ¡°I guess that¡¯ll do,¡± the little woman said, mollified.


    ¡°Now Dahlia, be nice. I like to cook and I like to feed people. Won¡¯t be able to feed people if you chase them off,¡± Gan said.


    ¡°But, but¡­¡± Dalia said, horrified at the thought of losing Gan¡¯s cooking.


    ¡°Come over here,¡± Seamus said to her. ¡°I¡¯ve got a little piece of apple I¡¯ve been saving for you.¡±


    ¡°For me?¡± Dahlia fluttered, then went to sit next to Seamus, who graciously handed her the piece he had been saving.


    Smiling at everybody happy in a warm after-eating glow, Gan began to clear off the table.


    Rob stood up. ¡°Let me help you with those dishes, Ma¡¯am. My ma, she¡¯d never let me live it down if she finds out I was invited to such a nice meal and didn¡¯t help out afterwards.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s very kind of you, Rob, but cleanup is the easy part of what I do. Cooking and baking, now those are arts,¡± Gan said, ¡°but I don¡¯t waste much effort on the dishes.¡±


    She gathered all the plates and saucers and moved them to a basin. Making a sigil in the air, she watched as a glow filled it, and one by one, the dishes, spoons and cups they had used at lunch lifted out of the basin sparkling clean and dry, ready to be put back in their cupboard.


    Rob watched them rather dumbfounded. ¡°How¡­¡±


    ¡°Domestic magic,¡± she said. ¡°Why spend all that time with hot soapy water and wiping dry? I make my food the hard way, because I like to, but cleanup? I don¡¯t like that nearly as much.¡±


    The young man went over to the counter and looked at his soup bowl. It was spotlessly clean. ¡°I wish I could do that at my ma¡¯s house that way.¡±


    ¡°It does take some learning,¡± Gan replied. ¡°Maybe I could teach you, if you¡¯re really interested.¡±


    He shook his head. ¡°I don¡¯t have much magic, and what I have seems to be all about growing things.¡±


    ¡°Is that why you¡¯re working for Elaine as a gardener?¡± Gan asked. She quickly put the cleaned dishes away.


    ¡°I guess.¡± Rob, back in his seat, leaned his elbows on the table, and rested his face in his hand. ¡°Some. She noticed me when I was tagging along with my dad. My dad used to be her chief gardener around the estate before his back got too bad. I probably got hired because of him, maybe. Still only an apprentice gardener, though.¡±


    ¡°Everybody has to start somewhere, I guess.¡± Gan closed the cabinet and grabbed a cloth to dust crumbs off the table when she noticed the look on Rob¡¯s face. ¡°Hmm. I take it there¡¯s some more than just being an apprentice going on here, from your expression. You don¡¯t like what you¡¯re doing?¡±


    He shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s not that. I love working the land and seeing things grow, roses or wheat or cabbages. It¡¯s...I don¡¯t know if I should talk about it.¡±


    Rosebud flittered by. ¡°He¡¯s got a girlfriend,¡± she said landing on his head. ¡°Over at Halfway. I saw them walking around Red Rock. And he...he...he kissed her, when he thought nobody could see them!¡±


    ¡°A girlfriend is it?¡± Gan asked, stifling a smile.


    Rob sighed, and covered his face with his hands, nodded once.


    ¡°Have you two made plans yet?¡±


    ¡°Sort of. We¡¯re unofficially promised to each other. I wanted to talk to her father, but I can¡¯t yet. Not until I make full gardener.¡± He looked up, and his face was bright red with embarrassment. ¡°But this isn¡¯t anything you need to worry about, Mistress Gan. It¡¯ll happen some day, I know it. Just waiting gets hard.¡± He stood up. ¡°Excuse me, Ma¡¯am. I need to check something around the barn area.¡± Grabbing his cap, he dashed out of the house.


    ¡°Waiting indeed is hard,¡± Gan said, looking at the closed door. ¡°Maybe I should tell Elaine about our young man¡¯s predicament.¡± She looked around the room at the pixies who were still in the room. It included Moxie and Arne, Dahlia and Seamus, Rosebud, Hilby, Bu, Gillie and several others. ¡°How would you like it if we asked Elaine to lend us Rob every day?¡±


    ¡°Will he bring us cookies?¡± Moxie asked.


    ¡°Probably not, but if he can get the peach trees in good shape, I can make peach pie.¡±


    ¡°Peach pie sounds like a good thing,¡± Arne said. ¡°Is it better than apple?¡±


    ¡°I think so,¡± Gan replied.


    ¡°Then let¡¯s do it,¡± he said.


    The rest of the pixies shouted out their agreements, except for Bu.


    ¡°Why do we need anybody else here,¡± he asked.


    ¡°Shut up, Bu,¡± said Gilly, flying over and swiping the feather out of his cap. ¡°You never like anything new.¡±


    Much to the amusement of the other pixies, Bu raced after Gilly in a wild chase that led outside. Most of the crowd followed.


    ¡°I guess that settles that,¡± Gan said. She got up and walked into another room where she had paper and ink. The pixies followed her, and watched as she got ready.


    ¡°Dear Elaine,¡± she wrote, ¡°I¡¯d like to borrow Rob Woodway for a while. And since he¡¯s going to be my primary gardener, maybe it¡¯s time to raise his status to full gardener...¡±

 Day 12 of the Warming Month

    Chapter 35


    Once upon a time, there was a sad noble. He had broad lands, a most beautiful wife, three fine children that looked up to him. He was respected, but that didn¡¯t satisfy him. The king asked for his opinion, and that did not make him at peace.


    Totally unable to find any rest, he decided to travel the world and ask the greatest thinkers on how to live the best life. He talked to many people, philosophers and holy people all over the world, but he ended up being more confused and more unhappy than ever before.


    Unable to find the answers he sought, he sadly began the journey home. A rainstorm pinned him in an old shack, run down and almost in ruins. The only person he found there was an old beggar, who had made the ruin his home. The man cheerfully offered him some of the poor soup he had, and a cup of weak tea.


    Even though he was very poor, and had little, he seemed content, even happy. The noble asked him the secret of his happiness.


    The beggar said, When I¡¯m tired, I sleep. When I¡¯m hungry, I go find something to eat. I have nobody to impress, nothing to steal. Life is good.¡±


    The next morning, the beggar was gone. But the noble thought about his words long and hard. Eventually, he went back home, kissed his wife, hugged his children, and stopped trying to find happiness outside of himself.


    Small Tales of the Past for Young Minds ¨C    Sharai Bluebottle of the Alder Branches


    At Pixie Hollow, the next day started off sunny and pleasant. Gan had once again brought her laundry out to wash. She had the big laundry boiler out with a fire on it, another tub of water, and the clothes line stretched out.


    ¡°If you were like me,¡± Moxie said, sitting on Gan¡¯s shoulder, ¡°you¡¯d just find another flower to make a fresh dress when your old one got dirty.¡±


    ¡°Ah but they don¡¯t make flowers in my size,¡± Gan replied. ¡°And I have more to wash than just my dresses. I have towels and sheets and napkins, too. And my aprons.¡±


    ¡°It still seems like a lot of work,¡± the pixie said.


    ¡°It is a lot of work,¡± Gan replied. ¡°But I kind of like getting it done. Clean sheets feel very nice.¡±


    ¡°Better than leaves?¡± Moxie asked.


    ¡°At least to big people¡¯s skins. Much better.¡±


    She went into the house, and grabbed a basket full of dirty clothes. As he walked through the door, she heard Gilly saying, ¡°And then the goat shook her head and Arne went halfway across the field.¡±


    ¡°Served him right,¡± Hilby replied. ¡°It¡¯s not like Mistress Gan didn¡¯t warn him about pulling on their ears.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s their eyes, he told me,¡± Seamus said. ¡°He says their eyes are all wrong.¡±


    ¡°And what¡¯s wrong with their eyes?¡± asked a deeper, larger, masculine voice.


    She turned around to see the tall, mossy cloaked man with the broad-brimmed hat sitting on the bench


    ¡°Oh Cullin, hello!¡± Gan said, putting her basket down. ¡°What brings you out of the forest today?¡±


    ¡°Leila,¡± he said.


    ¡°Leila?¡± Gan looked around the grounds in the front of her house. ¡°Did she come with you?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± said the Tree Shepherd.


    Gan scratched her head in confusion, then lifted a handful of clothes and dumped them, one by one into the cauldron. ¡°I have laundry to do today,¡± she said, stirring the pot with a long paddle.


    ¡°He¡¯s not good at explanations, is he?¡± Moxie said. She fluttered around the big pot, watching the steam rise out of it. ¡°Clouds, clouds. Funny hot heat and water can make clouds that don¡¯t rain or make lightning.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t get too close or you might get burned,¡± Gan told her.


    Gilly landed on the porch roof. ¡°I got burned once by steam,¡± she said. ¡°It hurt.¡±


    ¡°Where did you get near steam? Nobody¡¯s even made tea here after the old hermit left,¡± Fergus said, landed next to her. ¡°You never got burned when he was here.¡± He gave her a shove.


    Gilly flew off in a huff.


    Pye, Gan¡¯s cat jumped on the bench next to the Tree Shepherd, looking at him straight in the eyes.


    ¡°So you don¡¯t think I gave your mistress a good answer, either?¡± Cullin said.


    The cat twitched an ear and flicked his tail.


    ¡°It¡¯s true that I¡¯m not used to being sent here as a messenger,¡± he said. ¡°Are you good at it, cat?¡±


    The cat blinked at him twice, meowed once, and jumped off, running around the corner of the house.


    Gan glanced amused at the two of them interacting while she continued to dunk clothes into the cauldron. After the cat dashed off, she said, ¡°Pye can usually get his intention across.¡± She tossed the last piece of cloth in, and gave the pot a stir.


    ¡°He is a wise cat,¡± Cullin said, nodding. ¡°He knows enough to keep the pixies be, because you want it so. He also keeps a better eye on you and those around you than you might realize. Be glad he¡¯s here with you.¡± He shifted and moved a hand beneath his cloak. ¡°Leila asked me to give you this.¡± He pulled a bundle out, and unwrapped it on his lap. It was a book, and there was a folded piece of paper tucked into it.


    Gan wiped her hands on her apron, and took the book, a small, cheaply printed romance story of the type the two women were both fond of. ¡°Ah! She remembered!¡± She looked up and gave the Tree Shepherd a big smile. ¡°She told me how much she liked this one. I ought to send her back with one of mine.¡±


    Pulling the paper out of the book, Gan read the page. ¡°Oh, Leila¡¯s invited me to her house for tea tomorrow!¡±


    Cheers erupted from the crowd of pixies.


    ¡°Tea? With Leila? Will there be sugar cookies?¡± Moxie asked, flying to Gan¡¯s shoulder.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± She looked over at Cullin. ¡°Do I have your permission to enter the forest, Tree Shepherd?¡±


    He stared at her, going to phases of amusement, then minor irritation, then sternness. ¡°Leila deserves a good time. Meet me there.¡± He pointed to a place in the boundary wall where there was a set of steps across the fencing. Two hours after lunch.¡±


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°I will indeed. And tell Leila thank you, both for the loan of her book and the invitation.¡± She gave a little bow in his direction, then placed the book and letter next to Cullin on the bench.


    ¡°I don¡¯t remember seeing those steps before,¡± Arne whispered to Moxie.


    ¡°Me, either,¡± Moxie replied. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s because we fly over there instead of walk?¡±


    Ignoring the Pixie chatter, and even Cullin, Gan returned to her pot. ¡°But now, for my laundry.¡± She gave the clothing in the pot one more stir, then made a domestic magic sigil in the air. The pot began to glow, and the fabric in it began to move, rising and falling in the liquid, which instead of being clear like water now shone with an intense green light.


    ¡°Oooh!¡± said Rosebud, who flew up to the roof when the magic started. She was joined by Gilly, Moxie and Dahlia.


    ¡°Be sure to stay out of the water, Pixies,¡± Gan said. If you get caught in it, it¡¯ll try to scrub you until there¡¯s no more Pixie dust.¡±


    Hilby, who was thinking of just that thing, screeched, and flew up to join the others on the roof. While he was flying, a shift lifted out of the water. It shimmied once, and all the excess liquid ran out of it. Gan grabbed it and then pinned it to the clothes line. When she returned to grab the next garment waiting for her, Cullin was gone.


    <hr>


    On the White Isle, the Oldest sat in her garden at the White Circle chapter house. The garden was full of early spring blossoms ¨C golden forsythia, daffodils, violas and others. The day was sunny, but not overly warm, and she had a blue shawl wrapped over her white robes of office.


    Still, for all the sunshine, there was an air of deep introspection and even a touch of fatigue around the woman. As she looked out over the garden, a small sparrow landed near her, pecked at the ground, then flew off. A single person stood nearby, quietly watching, a presence so familiar and usual that the Oldest had forgotten he was there ¨C Ethne, officially her assistant, but unofficially much more.


    ¡°I wonder if is how my mother felt, before she returned to the Lifegiver? Everything, all the decisions, the lives in my hands¡­¡± She sighed. ¡°It weighs so heavy some days. Maybe I should go talk with Belisama.¡±


    Ethne took that as his signal to move. He had seen her in this mood many times before ¨C sometimes he could shake her out of it. Sometimes, all he could do was hold her hand. He wasn¡¯t sure which one it would be today.


    ¡°You know every time you go and talk with that sister, you come back angry about how she tells you to cut through the nonsense, and do the reasonable thing. She never quite understands what you are looking for is the reasonable thing,¡± he said, sitting down on the bench next to her. ¡°Maybe you should talk to Litaui in her gardens. Now she understands growth and cycles.¡±


    ¡°Growth and cycles. Is that what all this is about?¡± the Oldest asked. She looked down at the ground. ¡°I can barely see the shape of that through all the shadow building up.¡±


    Ethne adjusted the shawl she was wearing so it covered her shoulders more fully. ¡°At least in part. Look at how you have made inroads with the Dragonkin. Is that not growth?¡±


    ¡°You fuss over me like an old mother hen, Ethne. I am not in my dotage yet,¡± the Oldest said, but smiled. ¡°As for what is going on, well it is a newness, at least. Sometimes, though I wonder if my old mind is the right one to peer through it all.¡±


    Ethne patted her hand. ¡°Oh my dear Sulis, you have seen every nook and cranny of this land, have led it to one of the longest periods of peace and prosperity it ever has had, gave up everything for it after seeing everything else ripped apart in the Sundering, give every drop of yourself to keep it going that way, and every step of the way, you have been punishing yourself for some unseen weakness or failing, of not being good enough or strong enough or wise enough. And now you¡¯re going to add not being young enough to your list of failures?¡±


    For some reason, this made the Oldest laugh. ¡°If anybody knows how I kick myself in private, Ethne my dearest friend, it¡¯s you. Let¡¯s go inside. I need to speak to Ruell. Evidently the DIC has requested someone from our people to work with them on an investigation group they¡¯re putting together. Now that¡¯s a first. In the past, they tried their best to keep us from even knowing how they studied cases.¡± She stood up.


    ¡°Spring is here, and new growth,¡± Ethne said, standing up as well.


    ¡°But what will the seed sprout into?¡± the Oldest asked.


    ¡°We will water it with tea and cakes and see!¡± he replied, and opened the door for her to pass inside.


    <hr>


    Gan just got the last piece of her wash load out of the cauldron, a finely made linen cap with delicate embroidery around the brim, when she heard the clattering of a wagon driving up the road.


    ¡°More of those giant monsters coming this way!¡± Hilby said, in a panic. ¡°Why do they always come here?¡±


    ¡°You mean horses?¡± Gan asked.


    ¡°They¡¯re so big,¡± Hilby replied as he hid in Gan¡¯s apron pocket.


    ¡°It¡¯s probably Rob coming to work on the gardens,¡± Gan said. ¡°Nothing to worry about.¡±


    Closing her eyes, she drew a brand new sigil over the cauldron she had been using to do her laundry. This time, the light in the water from the laundry magic faded and the water stopped bubbling. Instead, it began to swirl, like a whirlpool. From the middle of the whirlpool, a column of water rose up. Gan pointed to her garden beds, and the water from the washing began to stream out of the pot and into that.


    Suddenly, a very wet Pixie rose up, sputtering and shaking off the water. ¡°Warn a person before you do that!¡± she said.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Cowslip,¡± Gan said. ¡°I didn¡¯t know anybody was sleeping there.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t know if you actually can call it sleeping, what with bigs talking too much, Hilby having panic attacks, and that cat prowling around.¡± Cowslip dashed off in the direction of the barn. ¡°I¡¯d rather put up with the goats!¡±


    ¡°Well, she¡¯s in a mood,¡± Moxie said.


    ¡°Surprise dirty water baths can do that to you, I suspect,¡± Gan said.


    The sound of the wagon grew nearer. Gan looked up as she moved the cauldron off the fire, and saw what she was hearing wasn¡¯t Rob driving a wagon, but Elaine¡¯s carriage.


    ¡°Now what¡¯s going on with that?¡± Gan wiped her hands on her apron, and Hilby, still nervous, dashed away.


    The carriage pulled up. Someone else besides Rob was driving ¨C Gan didn¡¯t recognize who it was. The door opened up, and out stepped Elaine.


    ¡°Ah, I caught you at home!¡± Elaine said.


    ¡°And where else would I be?¡± Gan asked. She walked up to Elaine as Elaine closed the distance between them herself. ¡°What brings you out to Pixie Hollow?¡±


    ¡°I need you to come to Allynswood. There¡¯s something I need to show you.¡± Elaine took her friend by the arm. ¡°And maybe we could talk about that letter you sent me yesterday.¡±


    Gan raised an eyebrow at that. There was a look about Elaine that made it clear she was planning something, something she was excited about. ¡°Well give me a moment. I don¡¯t want to go to such a fancy place wearing my laundry day apron.¡±


    Hurrying inside, Gan put on her best clean dress, a pale gray gown and her best cap. Over that, she added a wide brimmed straw hat. She left out several slices of bread for the Pixies, and a couple of cookies, broken into crumbs. With a final look back at her home, she grabbed her bag and hurried to join Elaine.


    Once in the carriage, Elaine gave her a big smile.


    ¡°So I hear there¡¯s a certain apprentice gardener that has an opportunity to take over one of my small farms, and maybe move up to journeyman gardener. That is, if a certain former schoolmistress is willing to let him work for her.¡±


    ¡°I also believe this apprentice gardener would like to prove himself worthy enough to talk to a certain father,¡± Gan said nodding.


    ¡°You know, I didn¡¯t know Rob had a sweetheart. He¡¯s a very capable young man, really gifted at handling growing things and livestock. His father is a lovely man. We talk a lot when he comes to Allynswood, and he taught me a lot of the practical things I needed to know about the people who do the actually farming on a large estate. None of my textbooks really covered how to cope with the trials and joys and expectations of the people who make it all work, but Rob¡¯s dad did. Gweir thinks highly of his older brother. He¡¯s one of the soldiers in Gweir¡¯s unit, you know?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what he told me.¡± Gan pulled some knitting out of her bag.


    Elaine watched her friend finger the fine yarn. ¡°I¡¯ll never undertand how you have the patience for that,¡± she said, giving her head a small shake.


    ¡°And I don¡¯t understand how you can manage such a large estate,¡± Gan said, chuckling. ¡°We all have our own talents.¡±


    ¡°So true.¡± Elaine stared out of the window. The part of the road they were traveling gave her an excellent view of the Glint river. All the land they were traveling past belonged to her. It really was a lot to care for, decide about, and make sure that the people who worked for her were well treated.


    ¡°So what do we do about Rob?¡± Gan asked, knowing her friend had already come up with a plan.


    ¡°I was thinking we¡¯d put him on a probationary period of one month. That¡¯ll make sure he fits in well with the Pixies and whoever else comes calling to your place. He handled his first day well, but day after day of Pixies might be harder than he realizes. After that, I¡¯ll raise his rank to journeyman. I¡¯m going to do that anyway, whether he works out at Pixie Hollow or not. Far be it from me to stand in the way of true love!¡±


    Gan reached out and squeezed her friend¡¯s hand.


    ¡°And I was talking to Arriane, too. For some reason, she¡¯s worried about you living out there all by yourself, even if you are surrounded by Pixies. When I suggested having Rob work as your handyman and gardener, her face lit up.¡±


    Gan chuckled. ¡°Gan as damsel in distress. Like a the female in a romance novel. Never thought anybody would ever see me like that!¡±

 Day 12 of the Warming Month Continued

    Chapter 36


    There are deep mysteries hidden in the Gray Lands. The locals, Jinn and Peri, say they are children of the Lady of Smoke and Fire. Like smoke, they disappear into the depths of the deep desert inhabited with sun loving monsters like the Lilu and Gallu, things that have more in common with the beings of the Shadow Lands than any other people in the Sunlit lands, like fire they burn any who pry too deeply in the things they choose to keep hidden. Even the failures of our magic and the blockage to no space use seem another aspect of Smoke and Fire.


    Does this Lady actually exist as an embodied being? Is she a guardian of something so threatening that two whole races of beings exist to protect it and her? Only the people of the Gray Lands know for sure.


    Be sure to keep their prejudices and taboos in mind when doing business with them. Whatever else goes on in the Gray Lands, the mineral treasures there are real. And valuable. Be content to take what you can like proper Dragonkin, and leave the mysteries to those who own them.


    Zandis Trading Worker¡¯s Manual, Sunderland Press


    Violetta Greenleaf, deep in the sacred heart of the Gray Lands, sat underneath a tree in the only garden she was allowed to be in. Her room, a bathing chamber and this garden had become the entirety of her room since the day she was brought here, burning with fever and almost dead from a Blood Fire spider bite. For a long time this had been enough. She was weak, almost unable to stand up when she came to, and Xhindi, the Jinn man who brought her here, and the Called, the person who was in charge of this site, and a couple of helpers were the only people who dealt with her, and for a time, it was all she needed.


    But now, her leg was strong enough to walk without a staff, at least for an hour or so. Her magical ability, scrambled by the illness and the need to keep her asleep while she healed, was beginning to come back to normal levels. She looked at the pearl the Called had given her to practice with, closed her fist over it, and let her innate magic touch it. It felt warm to her mind, warm and full of potential, teasing her magic to come forth and play.


    When she opened it, the pearl in her hand glowed with a bright blue-green light, a bit bluer than green.


    ¡°Almost there,¡± she whispered. ¡°Good enough to leave.¡±


    ¡°Ah, there you are, Violetta!¡± a warm male voice said.


    She looked up to see the smiling face of Xhindi. ¡°Not very many places to search. I¡¯m either in my room, in the bath or here.¡± She couldn¡¯t quite take the frustration of her limited existence out of her voice.


    Xhindi sat down next to her, and looked deeply into her eyes. ¡°Soon, Violetta, soon. My sister tells me you are almost ready to ride again. I¡¯ve asked her about saddling up a griffin to see how well you handle it. I think it¡¯s about time to move onto somewhere beyond this place.¡±


    Violetta rested her hand on his, briefly. ¡°I never was good at waiting. These last days...as I¡¯ve gotten better, I¡¯ve just started to feel so closed in.¡± She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, and suddenly, the words began to pour out of her. ¡°I miss my home. And I need to get that bundle we found back to where it will be safe to try to open it. I know you had asked me not to open it until we reached safety, but that never was going to happen. My friend let me know he had set up a rather nasty trap on it. I have his instructions on how to neutralize it back in Ynys Afel, in Meridae. I need to get to a Dragon Web station so I can let my place of work know that I¡¯ve been delayed. I...I¡­¡±


    Xhindi¡¯s face fell. ¡°I am so sorry I let this happen to you, Violetta.¡±


    She opened her eyes and looked up at him, saw the concern and guilt written across his face. ¡°You saved my life. Don¡¯t forget that.¡±


    ¡°After letting you be put in danger.¡± He ran a hand through his hair and stood up. ¡°I was supposed to get you safely to Xendo¡¯s Freehold then Aufzee¡¯s Freehold, and then safely back to Runi Blahn.¡±


    ¡°It isn¡¯t your fault that someone did in those poor men. It wasn¡¯t your fault that someone was evidently spying on the Freehold. They may have even been looking for my friend¡¯s vault. And it¡¯s certainly not your fault that damned spider bit me.¡± She frowned at him. ¡°Taking on guilt that doesn¡¯t belong to you is not a useful thing. Or so my old school master always told me.¡±


    ¡°Did you take on others¡¯ guilt sometimes when you were young?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Well, there was a group of us who were, well, we bent the rules a bit. Sometimes more than a bit. One particular person would always blame the rest of us when he got caught. The school master worked hard to break us of the habit of letting him hide behind us. We were all excellent students even when we pulled stunts or snuck off campus when we weren¡¯t supposed to, and I think the headmaster actually approved of our spirit, if not what we did. But the one thing he didn¡¯t approve of is taking on unearned guilt.¡±


    ¡°He sounds like a wise man. Is he still at the school?¡± Xhindi asked.


    ¡°Nobody knows where he is. He was working on something in his lab one night and disappeared. They say it was a no-space accident.¡± She sighed.


    ¡°He wasn¡¯t Dragonkin, right?¡±


    ¡°No, but he was a respected researcher in the theory of no space magic.¡± She looked at her hands. ¡°No space can be a dangerous area for the non-Dragonkin. It seems over the last several years they¡¯ve lost one or two or three people working in the field. I¡¯m sad he was one of them.¡±


    ¡°Now I am guilty of something. I¡¯ve made you think of sad things.¡± Xhindi bent down, and plucked a daisy that was growing near the bench. ¡°Here. I offer you this as recompense for my guilt. Forgive me?¡±


    She took the daisy from him and twirled it in her fingers. ¡°I¡­¡±


    ¡°And what will you give me in recompense for plucking flowers from my garden, brother?¡±


    The two of them turned to see the Called, wrapped in her usual gauzy dress and veil. She was followed by two of her acolytes, the only other people that Violetta had any regular interaction with. For all she knew, the entire site was peopled by just those three women. The acolytes were dressed in gauzy gowns as well, pale gray as opposed to white.


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    ¡°Uh,¡± Xhindi said, shrugging.


    ¡°So like you. Be glad I¡¯m here for Violetta and not your sinful soul.¡± She held out her hand to Violetta. ¡°The Elder Mother has made a decision. She has asked me to bring her to you.¡±


    Violetta slowly stood up and let herself be led away. Xhindi began to follow.


    The Called turned around as she heard him moving. ¡°No, Brother. This is a matter of Smoke and Fire. You may wait in her room if you¡¯d like, but you cannot follow us.¡±


    Xhindi took a deep breath, and let it out slowly, but nodded, and watched them walk out of the garden and enter another door that Violetta had not yet been through. Not sure of what to do, he went back to the bench. There, the daisy he had given Violetta sat abandoned.


    Picking it up, he tucked it into his pocket and sat down.


    <hr>


    Lady Elaine¡¯s carriage rolled up the driveway to the main entrance of Allynswood Manor, and one of her men came running to open the carriage door.


    It was a large building of three floors, faced with white stone. A colonnade of white carved columns surrounded the front of the building with graceful arches between them. It was an impressive place, echoing with long centuries of power and elegance.


    ¡°Jessup,¡± Elaine said, as she stepped out of the carriage, ¡°Let Edelkyn know we have a guest for lunch. And let Arriane know, too, in case she wants to join us.¡±


    Jessup bowed respectfully. ¡°Yes, my Lady,¡± he said, then turned to walk back into the house. Elaine watched him go, but made no move to go inside.


    ¡°It always amazes me how big your house is,¡± Gan said.


    ¡°That¡¯s what happens when you have ancestors with grandiose ideas,¡± Elaine said, grabbing her friend¡¯s arm. ¡°Far bigger a house than someone with sense would build, but the Allyns who built it wanted to impress the noteworthies at court. Finally, he got bored of court intrigues and one day decided to go join an order of monastics on an island to the far west, turned the estate over to my grandfather, and dropped out of sight. Nobody¡¯s heard from him in at least a century. But it is more than just the rooms we live in ¨C offices and workshops and such.¡±


    She began leading Gan down a path away from the front door. ¡°But what I brought you out to see isn¡¯t in the main house at all.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± Gan said. ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s on the other side of the gardens. Come on, I know the main house makes you nervous. I have to admit, even after growing up here, it sometimes makes me nervous, too, especially when I look over the maintenance budget.¡±


    Gan chuckled at that as she let herself be led down a paved path that crossed a mix of flower and herb beds. Spring flowers like pansies edged the pathways, with lupines and snapdragons and petunias and others standing beyond. The path led to a splashing fountain. Three paths radiated from its base.


    ¡°I see why you have to have a staff of gardeners here,¡± Gan said, stopping to look at the fountain. ¡°I remember when I was a girl and visiting here, how this fountain fascinated me. I couldn¡¯t figure out how the water got here.¡±


    ¡°So that¡¯s why you were reading the Magic of Water, back when we were just getting out of elementary levels. I always wondered about that,¡± Elaine said. ¡°Come on. Where we are going is just beyond the orchards.¡±


    They took the middle of the three pathways, crossing a small hedge that marked the end of the flower gardens. Here were the vegetable beds.


    ¡°Now this is the most important part of the gardens.¡± Elaine said, stretching out her arms as if to encompass the whole of the food gardens. ¡°Here we raise the vegetables both for the big house and all the people who live at Allyswood village. My parents had let it run down with bad management, but since I took over, we raise enough to feed the village, the house and have some left over to sell at Goblin Market. Profits for that get split amongst the gardeners¡¯ families, so they are more than happy to be here. I¡¯m rather proud of it.¡±


    ¡°Sounds like a lovely idea. I see your time studying with the Greenfellows didn¡¯t go to waste,¡± Gan said nodding as she looked around.


    The area was filled with raised beds with young vegetables in them. Some of the beds were covered with fabric, some had structures build into them. Each was separated by a path that allowed for easy access by wheelbarrow. A number of people were out and about working in the beds, including Rob Woodway, who was constructing tripods for one of the beds.


    ¡°Getting the bean beds ready?¡± Elaine asked.


    Rob turned around, and seeing who was speaking to him, he bowed slightly and tipped his cap. ¡°Lady Elaine! Mistress Gan! I¡¯m sorry I wasn¡¯t able to come by this morning, Ma¡¯am,¡± he said to Gan. ¡°But Lady Elaine asked me to work here today¡­¡±


    ¡°With good reason, Rob,¡± Elaine said with a gentle smile for the young man. ¡°That¡¯s because I was bringing her here today for lunch. Come to the big house today after work. I have some pleasant news for you.¡±


    Rob twisted his cap in his hands and looked a bit perplexed. ¡°If you say so, Ma¡¯am. If you say so. I¡¯ll be there.¡±


    Gan gave Rob a little encouraging nod, and let Elaine drag her into the orchards. The trees were just entering full bloom, the trees adorned with white to pink blossoms everywhere.


    ¡°So where are you taking me?¡± Gan asked. ¡°The orchard is beautiful, but I¡¯m sure that¡¯s not what you brought me to see, the glories of your gardening efforts.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s true. I was thinking about how you were going to tutor Tam. I thought it would be better if we had Tam tutored out of the main house,¡± Elaine said, taking her friend¡¯s arm once again. ¡°He knows every nook and cranny, even better than I did at his age, and there¡¯s so many distractions, with servants and workers, people who want to indulge him. And he¡¯s getting rather good at taking advantage of it.¡±


    ¡°And we can¡¯t have him come to my place.¡± Gan said, nodding. ¡°The Pixies wouldn¡¯t give him nor me a moment¡¯s rest. Not that they would do it out of malice, but Pixies are what they are. Not a place for distraction-free learning. And he will need that, at least some of the time.¡±


    ¡°I can just imagine what that would look like,¡± Elaine said, laughing lightly at the image. ¡°I¡¯d have to drench him in Ixip, and I¡¯m sure the Pixies would come to hate him because of that.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d rather not do that to Moxie,¡± Gan said, patting her friend¡¯s hand. ¡°Or any of them, for that matter.¡±


    Elaine nodded. ¡°That certainly wouldn¡¯t be fair. And there¡¯s a bit more - Tam¡¯s a good child, but if he¡¯s not really interested, it can be hard to keep his attention on what he ought to be doing,¡± she admitted. ¡°With the last tutor, I had to have Edelkyn sit in the room during his lessons to make sure he did more than doodle during class time. He might not have feared his tutors, but she is a different story. Suddenly he began actually passing his tests after that.¡±


    ¡°Edelkyn, eh?¡± Gan chuckled at that. ¡°I seem to remember you feeling rather intimidated by her yourself, when you were younger.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I was.¡± Elaine nodded. ¡°Maybe I still am, at least a little. Edelkyn is a force in her own right.¡± They walked out of the orchard, where they reached another hedgerow, this one higher than the last. The pathway was closed by a tall, stout gate. ¡°I used to cringe at the thought of her frown.¡±


    Elaine unlocked the gate, and they stepped through. In front of them there was an open expanse of lawn, and set near the center of it, under the shelter of a stand of trees, was a modest-sized cottage, made of fieldstone and whitened wood panels, with a fine red tile roof.


    ¡°I was wondering what the best place to have you two do your lessons when I remembered about this place. This is one of our guest houses,¡± Elaine said. ¡°It¡¯s got a good sized main room that I always thought might be just perfect for a classroom.¡±


    Gan looked at the grounds thoughtfully. ¡°So close and yet isolated. And with a good bit of ground surrounding it.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s about halfway between the main house and Allynswood village. My grandfather built it that way because sometimes he let people he really didn¡¯t want to socialize with, like his brother-in-law, stay here when they came to visit.¡±


    ¡°He sounds like he was a clever person, that grandfather of yours,¡± Gan said. She turned around in a circle. ¡°It¡¯s easy to pretend you¡¯re rather alone here.¡±


    ¡°Exactly. I thought that would help you to keep Tam on track. And it would be a good place to work with Arriane, if she still wants you to train her. And, if you felt so inclined, maybe some of the Allynswood village children.¡±


    Gan nodded. ¡°I¡¯ve been wondering about them.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s a school at Goblin Market run by the Alder Branches, but it¡¯s a long walk for little legs.¡±


    ¡°I will give it careful thought,¡± Gan said, as she walked around the room. ¡°Room enough for ten or fifteen little ones. Room for magic practice without disturbing anybody outside. Yes, this is very nice.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± Elaine said. ¡°Let¡¯s go have lunch and plan when to start.¡±

 Day 12 of the Warming Month Continued 2

    Chapter 37


    Dragons are born of air and stone,


    Daoine of spring flowers


    Dwarven folk of the earth¡¯s hard bone


    Lakeborn of water power


    Bauchan of the earth and sky


    Nymphs of passion¡¯s lyre


    Pixies of a lover¡¯s sigh


    Jinn born of purest fire


    Who do I choose?


    Who do I find?


    One, two three ¨C it¡¯s you!


    Traditional children¡¯s   counting rhyme in Harani   , collected by Meaves Goldstone of the Alder Branches, published in   Songs of the Sunlit Lands


    On the White Isle, the Oldest walked into her official conference room. ¡°We need a room less comfortable than the guest reception room and smaller than this one,¡± she said, looking around the large table that dominated the room,¡± she said.


    ¡°You say that almost every time you have a small meeting with someone you trust,¡± Ethne said, following her in with a platter holding tea items and a tray of small cakes.


    ¡°So why haven¡¯t I taken over another room yet?¡± the Oldest asked.


    ¡°Well, whenever I bring it up, you usually say something about budgets and costs¡­¡± Ethne put the platter near the Oldest¡¯s chair. ¡°Do you want me to take notes in the other room?¡±


    ¡°No, Ruell knows all about that.¡± The Oldest shook her head. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t mind if you take notes, nonetheless. But no need to hide.¡±


    Giving her a nod, he went over to the cabinet and took out pen and paper, and set his station slightly down the table where the Oldest and Ruell would be sitting. ¡°Well, I guess I¡¯m ready, Sulis,¡± he said. ¡°Are you?¡±


    She nodded, and he went to the door to usher their guest in.


    Ruell walked in to the meeting room, and gave the Oldest a cheerful grin. ¡°Such a lovely afternoon, Oldest. I¡¯m surprised we¡¯re not meeting in your garden.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re always so cheery, Ruell,¡± the Oldest said. She gave a nod to Ethne, who served the tea, with Ethne¡¯s cup being filled first. ¡°I have been in the garden, but I think these are things better said indoors, protected by our wards.¡±


    ¡°No doubt you are correct. Even here at the chapterhouse, security matters. But it¡¯s just so nice that we¡¯re finally into warm spring weather,¡± Ruell said, picking up his tea cup, warming his fingers around the cup. ¡°And I¡¯m not in the Borderlands. Maybe it was because I was in the field for a week, sleeping in a tent and checking in with our people in the field, but I got rather tired of cooler days. I¡¯m just starting to feel warm again.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯ll be hot before you know it,¡± Ethne said, as he took his own cup of tea to his own seat, where he settled down and inked his pen.


    ¡°Tell me what you can about the DIC¡¯s ways,¡± the Oldest said, sipping her tea.


    Ruell looked thoughtfully. ¡°I think you mean more than how well they worked with us on the operation? We covered that fairly well in the last meeting.¡±


    The Oldest nodded. ¡°Things that impressed you about how they work, tools, your impressions.¡±


    ¡°One thing that impressed me a good bit was their map technique,¡± Ruell began. ¡°They can do fly overs over a piece of land, and get the terrain down in a way we cannot. I suspect they have some magic techniques that allow them to reproduce what they¡¯ve seen. The maps we used for the operation were the best I have seen. That¡¯s one thing I¡¯d like to get hold of, very much. Beyond that, their logistics is excellent. It¡¯s like they¡¯ve had a lot of practice of moving their people in and out of sites, with adequate, no, more than adequate equipment and good accounting. Their intelligence network is decent, maybe not quite as good as ours.¡± He took a sweet cake off the tray and dipped it into his tea, and chewed it thoughtfully, then continued. ¡°Another thing to remember, that even though some of their people were armed, they weren¡¯t warriors. There was no way they could have taken out the smugglers the way we did. Bryony told me that they are police, not army. Dragonkin don¡¯t have an army.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s part of Gandaran¡¯s magic. Dragonkin have personal feuds, murders, fraud, but the things that would lead to a war among their people makes him stir in his magic sleep. Their leadership is never caught off guard,¡± the Oldest said. ¡°And among other people, who wants to lose their way of travel and trade?¡±


    Ruell nodded. ¡°That, and it¡¯s hard to pin Dragonkin down to one place. Come after them with arms, they just jump into no space. Takes hard work to set up no jump zones.¡±


    ¡°Except in the Lost Lands,¡± Ethne said, scribbling his notes.


    ¡°The Sundering left many scars across the world,¡± the Oldest said. ¡°The whys and purposes are not all clear.¡± She turned to Ruell. ¡°The reason I wanted your assessment is this. I received a message from the Master Investigator for you or someone you approve of to join an investigation team in Willowick, in Sunderland. At DIC headquarters.¡±


    Ruell¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Damn, and I don¡¯t dare go right now. We¡¯re still up to our eyeballs checking out our informant network.¡± He gave a deep, sad sigh, and grabbed another sweet cake off the tray.


    The Oldest took a sip of her tea, amused slightly at Ruell¡¯s disappointment ¨C of all of her people, he was the most enthusiastic at exploring new and different ways of doing things, and had a strong fascination for Dragonkin technologies. ¡°But should we send someone? They might be there for a while.¡±


    ¡°Of course we should!¡± he replied. He rubbed his chin. ¡°It might leave us shorthanded for a bit, but I think we should send one of the inner circle, not one of the outer. It needs to be someone who understands what we¡¯re doing, and can make snap decisions that we won¡¯t have to clean up. And whoever it is can only join them if they have a certain freedom to report home. But we must do it. We¡¯ve never had an opportunity like this before.¡±


    ¡°It would be a unique opportunity,¡± the Oldest said, nodding. ¡°The Dragonkin leadership must be truly worried. But who shall we send in?¡±


    ¡°Sammisa, Merith, Dylan, and Haran are here at the chapter house,¡± Ethne said. ¡°Sammisa¡¯s collating the data on our operatives, and I don¡¯t know if she would do well in a climate as hot and dry as Sunderland is.¡±


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    ¡°And Merith doesn¡¯t work well with Dragonkin,¡± the Oldest said.


    ¡°I need Dylan here to put together the puzzle that we¡¯re building,¡± Ruell said. He rubbed his chin. ¡°Nobody knows how to tease information of what we¡¯re finding like Dylan. The DIC would find him very valuable, but so do I.¡±


    ¡°Well then, that leaves Haran,¡± the Oldest said.


    ¡°Somehow, sending a Jinn to the DIC has an interesting irony to it. The one race who lives where no space jumping doesn¡¯t work to work with those whose whole life revolves around it.¡± Ethne said. ¡°I like it¡±


    Ruell gave the group a wicked smile. ¡°Me, too.¡±


    <hr>


    In the Gray Lands, Violetta Greenleaf let herself be led towards the building she had spent so many days in recently, turning back once to see Xhindi sitting on the bench she had been on, twirling the daisy he had offered.


    The Called draped her white veil over her face as they moved.


    ¡°We¡¯re not going back to my room?¡± Violetta asked.


    Her companion shook her head. ¡°No. For this, you will enter the depths of Almyrah, fifth ray of the Star of the Mother of Smoke and Fire. Now we must be silent until we meet with the Elder Mother. Save all questions for later.¡±


    Violetta nodded, torn between confused, curious and a little frightened, but she held her thoughts as asked.


    They headed to a large door, heavy wood decorated with the emblem of a five pointed star with runes, all in bronze. It was guarded by a portico of two colomns holding up a shape that might have been a pyramid, or perhaps a stylized mountain. As they passed under the portico, the door swung open to the inside, and Violetta felt a cold shiver run down her back as if there was some power searching her. But before she got to the door, the cold turned into a warm inviting presence. She felt a bit invigorated, accepted, and some of the nervousness she had been feeling evaporated.


    The Called watched her reaction, and nodded in approval as they entered the hallway in front of them. Although where they stood was brightly lit, with flickering light that looked like fire, but felt magical, the way ahead was in pitch darkness. This did not stop the Called. She strode boldly into the dark, and as she walked forward, more light sprang into being, guiding their path.


    Their steps echoed softly on the stone floor. There was nobody else in the hallway than them. Once, Violetta glanced backwards, and saw that the light that was guiding them on the way disappeared into a black midnight behind them. Only the lights one flagstone step ahead, the step they were on, and one behind them stayed lit.


    Finally, after what seemed like an endless walk, but one Violetta realized had more to do with magic glamour and sensory conditions than actual time, they reached another set of doors that swung open as they neared.


    Unlike the hallway, this room was blazing with light. Violetta stepped forward while her companion hung back, and she found herself blinking, then hanging her head down slightly in pain, as her eyes adjusted to the difference. The door behind her slammed shut, leaving her alone. Finally she could look up, and realized she was alone.


    ¡°What the¡­¡± she said, and moved forward, but suddenly she stopped. ¡°I¡¯ve...I¡¯ve seen this before. When?¡±


    She began to move forward again. The room she was in was large and sun drenched, like in a forest clearing. Looking up, she couldn¡¯t see the ceiling, just sunlight and things growing. Turning around, she found the door she had walked through had disappeared behind a curtain of shrubs and vines that crawled up the walls. She turned back towards the center of the room.


    There, a huge tree raised its arms up to the light. Birds sat in its branches and circled around the room, a pair of squirrels ran up its trunk, and a rabbit hopped by, stopped by the trunk and turned to look at her.


    ¡°This looks like something I saw when I was dreaming,¡± she said.


    ¡°So you remember?¡± said the rabbit.


    Another animal, a hedgehog waddled close to the rabbit. ¡°I told you what she told me, even if you didn¡¯t want to believe,¡± it said. ¡°She has been touched.¡±


    The rabbit cocked its ear. ¡°But why? Why a woman of the Aos Si?¡±


    ¡°Why did the brown one come to us with a warning? He was not of our people either. It was he who left the key for her.


    ¡°Brown, brown,¡± Violetta whispered. ¡°Haladin is a brown Dragonkin. Are they talking about him? He came to warn them? About what?¡±


    The tree they stood next to began to glow. The birds in its branches took off, flying in circles around the tree, and then going to roost in other vegetation. The squirrels took off likewise. Even the rabbit and the hedgehog stepped back.


    ¡°My Lady,¡± the rabbit said, her voice cowering.


    The glow grew and then stepped out of the tree, slowly coalescing into a female form. Scarlet hair cascaded from her head, as if it was caught in a wind. As Violetta watched, and the figure stepping out of the tree became more solid, she realized that what she thought was red hair was really flame dancing in its own wind. Her body was wrapped in something that resembled the gauzy robes, but in her case was fine smoke.


    ¡°O Mother of Smoke and Fire, have mercy on me,¡± the rabbit said, crumpling up into a small ball.


    The fiery-haired woman bent over and picked up the rabbit. ¡°You meant so well, my little one, and you knew the news the Brown One brought. Yes, your job is to protect the secret, but your protection doesn¡¯t include restricting who I choose to use to safeguard the secret.¡±


    The rabbit whimpered as the eldritch being placed her on the ground gently. ¡°Rest my child. Contemplate what you have learned here. Go home to the center. It will all become clear there.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Lady,¡± the rabbit said.


    The Lady turned to the hedgehog. ¡°You have been very brave, my child. Accepting the stranger that your brother brought you, in spite of the rules took both mercy and courage, even though you knew of the Brown one¡¯s message and your brother¡¯s role in making them come to fruition. You showed wisdom in how you chose to home her while she needed to sleep, and even more after she awakened. If Elder Mother hadn¡¯t intervened, she would have never known more that she had visited a holy site, and if following your brother¡¯s suggestion to blindfold her on the way out, she would have been unlikely to ever have stumbled into the deeper mysteries.¡± She bent over the hedgehog and touched it lightly on her head. ¡°Take my blessing, child, for you have earned it.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, my Lady,¡± the hedgehog said, clearly in the Called¡¯s voice.


    The Lady of Smoke and Fire then turned to Violetta. ¡°Yes, the Brown One chose well, I believe.¡± She looked at her deeply, and Violetta felt like her soul was being bared, examined, judged, but yet found worthy. Her knees felt shaky, and a part of her wanted to curl up and hide, yet a gentle warmth began to fill her, calming her shakes and fears. She knew without saying anything the Lady had found her acceptable.


    ¡°Your mind is full with the need to know, to understand, my child. I grant you the boon of asking.¡±


    Violette looked up into the Lady¡¯s eyes, kindly inclined to her, deep, full of power. A gentle smile touched her lips as she waited for the outlander¡¯s questions.


    ¡°Who are you, Lady? Are you the Lifegiver? Were you the woman who talked to me while I was being healed?¡±


    ¡°Yes, I kept watch over you while you were in that enchanted sleep. Otherwise, your spirit would have drifted away into the ether, and you would have woken up with no sense of yourself, no Violetta to fill your body. No, I am not the Lifegiver herself, although you could say I contain a small spark of her. The Lifegiver formed me from the need in her heart, called me out of the heat of the desert and the despair of the world, the fire of creation and the smoke of grief and ruin, and perhaps the pain at the path that the world she made had chosen. She made me to be a guardian, and guardian I am. As I was born, she brought me to the deep desert, where she had wrought a star of five points. At the center of it, she hid something so strong and terrible that only she is the one who should wield it. As I watched she raised a mountain and wielded a great weave of spell over it, a tapestry to keep out the prying and the curious.¡±


    ¡°Like no space magics?¡± Violetta asked.


    ¡°Yes. And to keep it even safer, she set me here to guard. And called up the Jinn and Peri to help me. It has worked well until now.¡±


    ¡°You know Halidan Graystone?¡± Violetta asked. ¡°Where is he?¡±


    ¡°Yes, child. Halidan Graystone came here at great risk to warn us of something dark and awful being planned. Asking my aid, he sent you the message about finding his box just shortly before the one he was afraid of attacked and killed everyone they could find associated with the site. But before that, before they could actually take him, he went somewhere where neither you nor I can go to.¡±


    ¡°Is he...dead?¡± Violetta asked.


    The eldritch woman shook her head, and small bits of fire flew out, cascading like sparks, flickering from light to dark. ¡°Not the way you mean. No, he is...elsewhere. It is a dragonkin thing, and even I cannot follow.¡±


    Violetta chewed on her lip. She had heard of dragonkin fleeing into no space, or getting lost. It was rare, but it happened. ¡°What do you need me to do?¡±


    ¡°Take the box back to Ynys Afel. Do not give the box to your employer. There is a safer harbor. I do not see well in the lands of the Aos Si, but I am told to tell you to return to the roots of your childhood. I will send Xhindi to aid you and be my eyes.¡±


    The Lady rested a hand on Violetta¡¯s head. ¡°Take my blessing with you, too, for what it is worth in the green and cooler world. The Lifegiver guide you.¡±


    Eldritch magic swirled around her, while a light, as bright if not brighter than when she first stepped into the chamber, forcing her to close her eyes. She felt a warmth, almost hot but quite soothing envelop her. Slowly the feeling of light and warmth faded, and Violetta dared to open her eyes, and she was back in the garden, under the tree.


    The daisy she had left behind was gone.


    ¡°Was it all a dream?¡± she asked. She looked down, and saw the image of a flame emblazoned on her right hand. It wasn¡¯t there before. She touched it with her left hand. It was warm, feeling a little like the touch of the Lady when she blessed her. ¡°I guess not. Now what?¡±

 Day 14 of the Warming Month

    Chapter 38


    There is travel, and there is travel, friends. Back in the days before the Dragon Web brought its station all over the land, all travel was slow, laborious, and sometimes dangerous. Long caravans of horse and ass and gryphon and other beasts of burden had to be assembled, fed, harnessed and guarded and guided. Sometimes, wagons weren¡¯t even usable, due to the landscape and condition of the roads. This made goods expensive and far more rare than they are today. People tended to stay where they were born. Only the brave few made their way to places of learning like the White Isle. A few Alder Branches would travel, slowly and painfully to what few towns there were to set up schools, a few Fireburners wandered the landscape, teaching what they could about making things while searching for secrets of the days before the Sundering. Ways were local ¨C family and clan controlled the way people lived with a power that made it hard for people who didn¡¯t agree with them. Merchants who dared travel the dangerous ways between communities, bringing rare goods, books, medicines and tools were hailed as heroes, and feted with great celebration whenever they showed up, and were pumped for all the news from other places, as were traveling musicians. To make things worse, neighboring communities who had a falling out with each other, often took to arms. And groups of armed bandits would attack villages, knowing it could take a while before the local nobles could send out a force to take care of them.


    Nowadays, it¡¯s true, people often have to take to horse or other animal to get from Dragon Web station to their destination, but the distance is much less. Prosperity has improved all across the land, as freight is easy to transport from place to place, and the King¡¯s Guard has the means to get troops to trouble spots almost immediately. Moreover, people move everywhere across the Sunlit lands, encouraging the exchange of ideas and making life more interesting. Travel has always had benefits. Learning new things, finding out about different ways people deal with similar problems, trading, and just having more life experience makes so many things better. We become one people instead of clusters of tribes, clans and families.


    Be glad for the world we live in, friends. But we wouldn¡¯t have it if it weren¡¯t for companies like Briarwood and Flysch. Just think of that the next time you go to the Dragon Web station to send a message or a package or take a trip!


    From No-Space to Everywhere -    Flysch Graben,   cofounder of Briarwood and Flysch


    Gweir Blackthorn, finally free from the encampment with Sael Havron and the troubles in the Borderlands, was tired. It had been a long ride from Waterford by Glint. He had started the afternoon before, and spent the night at Goblin Market so he could get home early in the day. He wanted it that way ¨C there would have been no problem with him just taking the Dragon Web to Goblin Market and cut some of the time down, but he used the ride to make space between Havron and the Birch and the work he had been doing for the King¡¯s Guard and the dirt required to protect Ynys Afel and this world he was coming home to. He hated to soil home with all that dirt.


    The countryside, the little farming villages, the woods and the fields, the smells of the earth being worked, even the birds he startled as he road on helped both to remind him of what he was fighting for, and helped him to become more than Leader Second Rank Gweir Blackthorn of the Southern Contingent. It was working, he thought. By the time he left Goblin Market, people working in the fields waved at him as he passed. He even took the time to help a farmer get his wagon unstuck in a muddy part of the road. The last several months began to peel away in the clean air and green spaces and road dust.


    ¡°Let¡¯s hope it¡¯s enough,¡± he said as he neared the family estate.


    He turned up the gravel drive that led to the main house. The road was lined with tall, older trees that had grown tall enough to mostly screen out the sky. He stopped for a moment, and looked up at the mostly green canopy with a small river of blue. Not for the first time, he thought it was almost a mirror of the river Glint he had followed to get here. After so many weeks in the barrens of the Boundary Lands and Havron¡¯s training grounds, it felt almost odd to be surrounded by so much green that it felt a little strange, but comforting, like being covered by a soothing blanket.


    ¡°It¡¯s bad when you forget what home feels like,¡± he said, ¡°and I almost had. I hope¡­¡±


    He left the thought unfinished, not wanting to jinx his future.


    At the front of the house, the porter Restine Redbow, who had watched the front door of Allynswood since long before he had first married Elaine, hurried out of the house to meet him, a broad smile on his face.


    ¡°Lord Gweir!¡± he said, coming up to take the reins of the horse as Gweir dismounted. ¡°We didn¡¯t know you were coming home.¡±


    Gweir put a finger to his lips. ¡°On purpose. I want to surprise Elaine.¡±


    ¡°Last I heard, she was in her private garden, sir,¡± the old Bauchan porter said. ¡°Something about cutting flowers for the table. You¡¯ll need to ask in the house to be sure if she¡¯s still there.¡± He looked over the horse, and the lack of saddle bags. ¡°Is this all you brought with you home? A single backpack?¡±


    ¡°I had what I brought sent to the Dragon Web at Goblin Market. You¡¯ll probably need to send someone. Unless something there has changed, their delivery service¡­¡±


    ¡°Is still incredibly slow,¡± the porter said, nodding. ¡°I¡¯ll get right on it, sir. So good to see you. Will you be with us long?¡±


    ¡°Only a week or two,¡± Gweir said, heading up the steps to the front door. ¡°It¡¯s just some time off for a job well done, but I¡¯ll take it.¡±


    ¡°Such a shame,¡± the porter said, a comment unheard as he turned to take care of his lord¡¯s horse.


    Gweir looked at the ornate carved door, a heavy stained wood worked in vining designs running up the panels. ¡°Home,¡± he said, turning the bright brass knob to let himself in. Edelkyn was adorning flowers for the foyer, and gasped as he walked in.


    ¡°Ssh,¡± he said, raising his finger to her lips before she could say anything.


    She nodded and a broad smile danced across her face. ¡°She¡¯s working in her garden.¡±


    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    ¡°Thank you, Edelkyn, he said, dropping a small pack on the floor. ¡°Could you take this to my room?¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± she said, leaving the flowers as they were and heading upstairs.


    He took a deep breath. The air smelled of flowers, and lemon oil, food cooking in the kitchen, and the faint traces of all the people who worked in the building. Suddenly, an ache rose up in him, a longing for everything he was giving up, and he sighed, knowing it was going to be temporary. He shoved that twinge away, and decided to focus at what lay ahead as he walked through the house and out the door to the garden.


    There, next to the rose bushes, he could see her head. Everything he had been feeling paled to what hit him then, hit him hard, seeing his wife working there, in an old stained work dress, with dirt marks on her knees and a smudge on her cheek. All that didn¡¯t matter. She was a beacon calling him.


    He walked as silently as he could, rounding the aisle of roses, until he was almost behind her. ¡°Elaine,¡± he said softly.


    Her eyes opened wide and she popped up immediately and spun around. ¡°Gweir!¡± She dropped her garden basket, pulled off her dirty work gloves and threw herself at him, pinning herself to his chest and wrapping arms around her like she never wanted to let go. ¡°Oh Gweir! Why didn¡¯t you tell me you were coming home?¡±


    She hugged him close, and as his arms wrapped around her, he let the feel of her, the sound of her, even the sweet smell of her, woodsy with spice and citrus, touched by the flowers she had been working with, clean and of growing things, not death, wash over him.


    Their lips met, gentle at first, and then their long unfulfilled hungers rose up, making the kiss much deeper than either had intended.


    After a moment, Gweir pulled back, resting his hands on her shoulders.


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m home now.¡± His voice was low and husky. ¡°What are you going to do about it?¡±


    She gave him that come-hither look that let him know he was going to have to work for his rest, but before she was able to say anything, their solitude was shattered.


    ¡°Da, Da, you¡¯re back!¡±


    Tam came running into the garden. ¡°I saw Bob putting your horse away. You¡¯re back! How long are you going to be back now? Are you staying? I have so much to show you!¡± He hugged his father around the waist.


    Gweir sighed to let off the head of steam he had been building, but at the same time, he was pleased to see Tam. Tam, too, was one of the things he was fighting for.


    ¡°Whoa, whoa, son. Let me look at you, I swear you¡¯ve grown half a head since I¡¯ve been gone.¡± He tossled his son¡¯s hair.


    ¡°He¡¯s been growing like a weed,¡± Elaine said. ¡°How long are you here for this time? You deserve to have a long break.¡±


    ¡°Eh,¡± he said, sighing. ¡°It won¡¯t be that long this time. I have to report back in two weeks.¡±


    Elaine closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then looked back up at her husband. ¡°Well, let us make this a holiday worth remembering, Gweir. I¡¯m happy for what we can have.¡±


    She picked up her garden basket, now full of flowers. ¡°Here, Tam, take this to Edelkyn.¡±


    Tam frowned. ¡°Must I?¡±


    ¡°Yes you must. You can have your father later,¡± Elaine said, letting a little more of the smolder return to her eyes. ¡°Your father and I need to have a talk. Ask Edelkyn for a snack if you get hungry, or you can go out and play.¡±


    Not mollified, Tam took the basket and headed back into the house.


    Once the young man was out of sight, Gweir pulled Elaine close. ¡°Now where were we?¡±


    ¡°About to take the shortcut to my bedroom?¡± Elaine said.


    ¡°Sounds like a plan.¡± And with a quick kiss, they headed for the bedroom door.


    <hr>


    It was a sunny day in Sunderland. Haran stepped out of the Dragon Web carriage and looked around him. There were only a few other passengers in the carriage with him, all Daoine or Bauchan, with one Knocker for variation, and two Dragonkin since most Dragonkin didn¡¯t really need to rely on the carriages unless they felt like putting on an impression or had too much luggage to deal with.


    He looked around the room. It was much like any other Dragon Web station, except the posters advertising were pictures of Dragon Kin visiting exotic locations, not Daoine or other people. There were counters for freight and messages and tickets, a waiting room for people waiting for their turn to travel, and the usual sales people hawking the latest wonders B&F was allowing to be pushed at their stations.


    A grayscaled Dragonkin in the uniform of the DIC stood there, with a sign with Haran¡¯s name. Haran slung his pack over his shoulder and walked up to him.


    ¡°You were sent to wait for me?¡± Haran asked.


    The young Dragonkin man nodded. ¡°I¡¯m Greenheart Greyscale, First Year DIC officer for the Sunderland Dragon Web station. You are Margani Haran?¡±


    ¡°Yes I am, fresh from the White Isle. You¡¯re to escort me to Master Investigator?¡±


    The young Dragonkin took a deep breath and let it out slowly. ¡°I wish. Closest they¡¯ll let me get is to is the door of DIC Headquarters. But even that is closer than I usually get.¡± He gave the Jinn man a small smile. ¡°The good stuff, I am told, comes later, after we stick it out our first year. I hope so. Do you have any bags to pick up?¡±


    They retrieved his bags, and moved onto a hired coach. Outside, it was warm and sunny, with lots of rock and small patches of green growing in small gardens, but otherwise much less green and damp than the White Isle. Flowers that would not bloom there for at least a month bobbed their heads in the breeze. The streets were busy with Dragonkin going about their business, and only a small handful of other folk.


    ¡°So what do you think of Willowick so far?¡± Grayscale asked. ¡°We don¡¯t see that many people from Greenholt here. Most of them complain that it¡¯s too noisy and too dry. I don¡¯t get it. The river runs right through the middle of town and there are gardens everywhere! The grass on the mountains hasn¡¯t even started to turn brown yet.¡±


    ¡°Reminds me of Harani. It looks a lot like this,¡± Haran said. ¡°Lots of rock, and water in the rivers, but the ground dries out. And it¡¯s warmer, almost all year round compared to the White Island.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard that before,¡± Grayscale said. ¡°There are a lot of Dragonkin there...between the minerals and the trade¡­¡±


    ¡°Oh, I know,¡± Haran said. ¡°Lived there for most of my younger days. My dad worked at one of the trading houses there, Felspar and Company.¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± Grayscale said. ¡°One of my mother¡¯s brother¡¯s sons works for them. Bookkeeping, I think. Haven¡¯t seen him in years though. He doesn¡¯t seem to like it here in Sunderland. Then you have some experience being around Dragonkin?¡±


    ¡°Some. Not sure if the people at Felspar thought that much of my dad, though,¡± he shrugged. ¡°Could be he was just unhappy with his work. Right before I came of age, he decided to move to Meridae. Lot of Dragonkin there, too, but they weren¡¯t as crazy about mining there, and I think that made him happier.¡±


    ¡°Could be. People in Meridae have a different viewpoint on things. Maybe it¡¯s because they¡¯re closer to Sunderland.¡±


    ¡°Funny how things work out. My grandparents came from the Gray Lands, and I¡¯ve never been there, and I ended up on the White Isle. Life has a way of surprising us sometimes.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s true,¡± Graystone said. The coach they were in came to a halt. He stuck his head out of the window. ¡°Well, it looks like we¡¯re here. It¡¯s been pleasant talking with you, Margani Haran. If there¡¯s anything a First Year DIC officer can do for you, even if it¡¯s just pointing to eateries that won¡¯t try to take your last gold for a bad meal, come and find me. Have a good assignment here.¡± He opened the coach door. ¡°And if you get a chance, please put in a good word for me with with Master Investigator or his second Byrony.¡± He tried to laugh it off, but his eyes were pleading.


    ¡°If I get a chance,¡± Haran said, nodding.


    The young Dragonkin stepped out of the coach and helped Haran with his pack and bag.


    He got back in the coach. ¡°Well, good luck on your assignment. And never forget the DIC slogan: We never stop investigating.¡±


    With a final wave, the young man turned back and signaled to the driver to take off.


    ¡°First year officers must have it rough,¡± Haran said, picking up his bag.


    ¡°You have no idea.¡± A young blue scaled Dragonkin woman stepped out of the entryway. ¡°Hi! My name¡¯s Tansy, and they sent me out to help you get set up. I see they must be planning to give you a room inside. Of course, they wouldn¡¯t think about housing you somewhere else.¡± Her blue ruff flared a little at the thought. ¡°Well if you follow me, I¡¯ll get you through the maze you¡¯ll have to go through without getting lost. Do you like tea?¡±

 Day 14 of the Warming Month, Continued

    Chapter 39


    Mother¡¯s Sugary Tea Cakes


    This was my mother¡¯s favorite recipe for sugary cookies. Take 2 cups of good flour, well sifted, and add to it a cup of well powdered sugar, three pinches of salt and a quarter pound of softened butter. The butter should be soft, but not runny. Stir well until all is well mixed. After that, add the yolks of two eggs and a fourth of a gill of cream. Mix these, not with your spoon or whisk, but by hand. It will form a ball, with a texture not much different than potter¡¯s clay. When it reaches that stage, dust your kneading board with a little flour and knead it until it¡¯s more pliable. It shouldn¡¯t take many pushes.


    Divide the dough into lumps the size of walnuts. Roll the balls in sugar, not so finely powered as the sugar you made the dough with. You could also use seeds like Anise. You could add a little rosewater to it for flavor, but you¡¯ll have to subtract a bit of cream to keep the dough from getting too wet. Crushed almonds work, too. Bake the cakes in a quick but not too hot oven. When done, they will be only the tiniest bit brown. You could dust with more sugar if you like.


    Recipes from the Kitchens of Comrie  , edited by Mella Cowrie. Recipe by Gan Thistleberry


    At DIC Headquarters in Sunderland, a bemused Haran followed Tansy into the foyer of the DIC building, and didn¡¯t even blink at the jar of no-space transport from the foyer to the main office of the center.


    ¡°Here we go,¡± Tansy said, throwing open the main door. ¡°Don¡¯t let anybody here get on your nerves. They¡¯re all lower level than the people you¡¯ll be answering to.¡±


    The room they entered was filled with desks, maps, chart, and doors to other offices. One place near the front was marked ¡°Reception,¡± and a young, grayscaled Dragonkin woman in a neatly pressed uniform sat behind the desk. Her exposed wings flickered momentarily as she waved for them to come towards her.


    As they neared, she looked down at a document laying on her otherwise mostly clear desk, then looked up and met his gaze with an officious but determined look, as if challenging him. Haran raised an eyebrow and stifled a grin as he waited for her to begin.


    ¡°You are Margani Haran?¡± Her voice was soft, but edged with iron.


    ¡°I am,¡± Haran said, nodding. He kept his voice calm, not responding to her invitation to be irritated.


    This was not as true for Tansy. ¡°You know who he is, Zedna,¡± she butted in, rolling her eyes. For a moment Haran thought she was going to take him by the arm and drag him off, but she didn¡¯t. Still, her ruff colored up with impatience. ¡°What other Jinn would dare walk in here?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just for the record, and part of my job, Tansy.¡± Zedna¡¯s tone was mildly disapproving, less gruff than Haran had expected, evidently pleased at Tansy¡¯s reaction. ¡°You know that. It all goes on record,¡± she said. Opening the desk drawer, she pulled out a small flat device attached to a cord. ¡°Here. This device will give you access to everything that Master Investigator or Commander Byrony has decided you need access. You should feel impressed. That¡¯s more access than most of us have.¡±


    He took the device from her hand and examined it. It resembled a jumpstone, a polished slap of some agate-looking stone. The cord it was attached to looked to be a simple black leather thong. It tingled in his hand. ¡°Touchstone powered?¡±


    The receptionist nodded. ¡°It¡¯s already activated, but if an emergency happens and you need to shut it down, there¡¯s a button on the back. It will require Byrony or Master Investigator to reactive it, though, so don¡¯t do it lightly.¡±


    Haran nodded, examined the back, and noticed a darker, round spot on the device, and put it around his neck. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    ¡°Well, Master Investigator and his team are waiting for you. Do hurry him through, Tansy,¡± Zedna said. ¡°You can give him the grand tour later.¡±


    Tansy¡¯s ruff turned dark and laid down, an obvious sign of her displeasure, while Zedna¡¯s signaled some amusement. Haran looked at his escort, half expecting her to say something in retort, but instead, she took a deep breath. ¡°Zedna is right. I need to get you to Bryony. He¡¯s waiting for you. Come on.¡±


    Tansy led him past the maze of desks in the main room. It was filled with mostly gray scaled Dragonkin. Heads turned as he passed by, and a few wings fluttered, but most of them seemed to be engaged in record keeping and analysis jobs and had no time to give him more than a little glance. Unlike the smartly uniformed Zedna, few of them were in uniform, although a number of them had their uniform jackets draped on their chairs. It gave a colorful effect; most of the gray scaled evidently favored bright colors for their shirts. Several of them who were busy writing had their sleeves rolled up to prevent ink stains.


    ¡°Most of the people here are lower level paper pushers,¡± Tansy said, as they passed by a worker working behind a mountain of books and loose papers. ¡°Support people. It¡¯s considered quite a cushy position for those who survived their first year. Everybody that matters has their own office.¡±


    ¡°So what¡¯s your excuse, Tansy?¡±


    The person who said that didn¡¯t bother to look up. Haran was beginning to get the feeling that Tansy, not being a gray scale, had some problems with the lower ranked people working here.


    ¡°Someone has to keep the uppers in tea and run interference, Gerrand,¡± Tansy replied, with an acid smile. ¡°Don¡¯t mind them, Haran. It¡¯s what Byrony thinks about you that really matters.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯d take someone like Byrony to bring in a Jinn on this case,¡± someone muttered. ¡°Hope President Grimsbeard can take the heat once the word gets out.¡±


    Tansy ignored him, walked to a desk in the very back, not far from what Haran suspected was the break room, as the door was open and he could see tables and chairs and a counter with cups laid out on a tray. The desk had a small name plate emblazoned with ¡°Tansy Redwood.¡± It had a scattering of curios on it, a stack of papers, and an empty tea mug.


    The two of them passed Tansy¡¯s desk, and she went to a door right behind her place. She knocked. A muffled voice bid them enter.


    ¡°Let me know if you need anything. Have fun with the big boys.¡±


    Tansy opened the door and Haran stepped in.


    <hr>


    In Pixie Hollow, Gan was working in her kitchen. Moxie was sitting on the fireplace mantle, intentionally not talking.


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    Arne flittered by, landing next to the little woman. She gave him a hard shove, knocking him off. ¡°She¡¯s in a mood,¡± he said, and flew off to a safer perch by the kitchen window.


    ¡°I¡¯ve noticed,¡± Gan said, taking an onion out of the bin. Going to the kitchen counter, she deftly peeled it, and grabbing her cutting board, sliced and began chopping it. ¡°She won¡¯t tell me why, though.¡±


    Onions done, she scraped them into a bowl and went back to her bin to grab a head of cabbage and a couple of carrots.


    Gilly flew in through the open door, followed by Dahlia who carried a tiny flower from a henbit plant. They sat on each side of Moxie, but didn¡¯t say anything. Moxie didn¡¯t acknowledge them with words. All she did was cross her legs in the opposite direction. Gilly and Dahlia exchanged glances, and Dahlia began playing with the little flower in her hands, twirling it.


    Gan cleaned and chopped the carrots, then shredded the cabbage. She put her spider frying pan over a hot bit of fire, and let it warm up. Very carefully, she sliced some bacon into thin slices, and then cut them into quite small pieces. When done, she put the bacon and onion into the frying pan.


    ¡°Making soup?¡± asked Rosebud asked, flying in. She landed on Gan¡¯s shoulder.


    ¡°Trying to,¡± Gan said. She moved over to the fireplace with a huge spoon. She gave the bacon and onion a stir, then lifted the soup pot, where the beans she soaked the night before were bubbling, more than half done. She gave it a good stir, then put the lid back on. ¡°After I get the soup on, I¡¯ll bake the bread and make something else. We still have enough pie left over from yesterday.¡±


    After another stir of the bacon and onion mix, she added the carrots and cabbage and threw in a bundle of herbs ¨C thyme, oregano, marjoram. She added a bay leaf and some black peppercorns. Giving the bacon and onion one more stir, she lifted the frying pan off the fire, and poured its¡¯ contents into the pot. Setting the spider to the side, she gave the pot a final stir, added a bit more water, and lidded it.


    ¡°It smells so good,¡± Rosebud said. ¡°It¡¯s making me hungry.¡±


    Arne flitted down to the table. ¡°Me, too.¡±


    ¡°Hungry, eh?¡± Gan said. ¡°Everybody had breakfast who wanted to.¡± She gave Moxie a look, knowing the little Pixie had refused to come in and eat. ¡°Let me see after I get the bread in and these dishes washed. I have a special treat for you all. I was going to save it for after lunch, but maybe we¡¯ll have it for a snack.¡±


    Moxie looked up briefly at the words special treat, then went back to pouting, hoping Gan hadn¡¯t seen her. Gilly and Dahlia had, though, and shared knowing looks.


    Hillby flew into the kitchen. ¡°Is it lunch yet?¡±


    Gan, who was raking coals out of her bake oven, shook her head. ¡°I just put the last things in the soup pot.¡±


    He plopped on the table, and sitting there crosslegged, sigh. ¡°But it smells like lunch.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s because lunch is cooking,¡± Arne said. ¡°But Mistress Gan promised us a treat.¡±


    ¡°After I wash up,¡± Gan said. She slid pans of risen bread dough into the bake oven and closed it shut. ¡°Now, time to clean up.¡±


    She put the kettle on to boil water, and gathered the skillet, the cutting board, the bowls and other miscellaneous kitchen tools and gave them a good washing in her dish basin. As she dried the utensils and put them away, she noticed Moxie glancing at the kettle.


    ¡°There¡¯ll be clouds without rain in just a moment, Moxie dear,¡± Gan said, putting up the spider.


    The Pixie huffed, but didn¡¯t stop watching.


    First, Gan prepped her teapot. Next, she wiped down the table and counter. Third, Gan took a saucer out of the cabinet. A few other pixies wandered in: Bu, Cowslip, Damask, Rufus.


    ¡°I do believe that you Pixies have a special magic that lets you know when I¡¯m getting ready to give out special things,¡± Gan said.


    ¡°Yes we do,¡± said Cowslip, landing on the edge of the table. ¡°Something tingles inside my head.¡±


    ¡°Me too,¡± said Bu, sitting on the window frame.


    Gan tilted her head to one side, and tapped her bottom lip.¡°I never knew that,¡± she said. ¡°It¡¯s going to make it very hard to surprise you.¡±


    She took a cup and a couple of saucers out of the cupboard, and grabbing a folded towel, took the kettle out of the fire, and poured it into her teapot. Reaching for a canister, she opened it to add three cookies to one of the saucers.


    She turned around and faced the group of Pixies. ¡°Sugar cookies, anybody?¡±


    Moxie¡¯s eyes grew wide and she shot up into the air, flying circles around Gan¡¯s head. She began to talk in rapid, breakneck speed. ¡°You were gone so long, two days in a row. Places we couldn¡¯t go with you. I could smell cookies on you when you came home, but you didn¡¯t share. I didn¡¯t know what was wrong. I was afraid you didn¡¯t like us any more. I was afraid I did something wrong. I was afraid Arne had done something wrong. I was scared. Then I was angry because I knew I hadn¡¯t done anything wrong. And you just did all your morning stuff without trying to make me talk about it and I knew you had started to hate us all.¡±


    She finally stopped long enough to catch her breath and land on Gan¡¯s shoulder.


    ¡°Now if I hated you, would I be baking bread and cooking soup?¡± Gan asked. ¡°Or sharing cookies?¡±


    ¡°Uh, no, I guess.¡± Moxie said. She hugged Gan¡¯s neck as far as her arms would reach.


    ¡°Told you so,¡± Arne said, flitting by.


    ¡°You...you - I¡¯m still mad at. Go away!¡± she told the little man.


    ¡°Well, let¡¯s all make up, and stop being mad,¡± Gan said, putting the saucer on the table, and breaking up the cookies into little pieces. She picked up a slightly larger crumb, and handed it to Moxie. ¡°So you say sugar cookies are important?¡±


    ¡°The most important,¡± Moxie said, taking it graciously, and taking a big bite.


    ¡°You know Leila doesn¡¯t make these herself,¡± Dahlia said. ¡°She buys them at Goblin Market.¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. They¡¯re delicious,¡± Moxie managed to mumble with a full mouth. ¡°May the baker be blessed. My tummy is blessed eating them.¡±


    ¡°If I had known you took sugar cookies that seriously - ¡± Gan started to say, but she was interrupted by a knock on the door. ¡°Now who could that be?¡±


    Seamus flew in, out of breath. ¡°Two people. A little horse monster. Right outside!¡± Taking a look at the table he stopped and snagged him a piece of the cookie, which was fast disappearing. ¡°Rob¡¯s one of them.¡±


    ¡°I told Rob he didn¡¯t need to knock.¡± She moved to the door as the person outside rapped on the door again.


    Opening it, she didn¡¯t see Bob¡¯s earnest young face. ¡°Oh, Arriane! What brings you out here today?¡±


    ¡°Gweir,¡± Arriane said. Her voice sounded exasperated.


    ¡°Gweir, your brother-in-law?¡± Gan asked, surprised by the tone in her voice.


    ¡°Yes! He came home this morning, and that means all of Elaine and my plans for today have gone out the window. Maybe for days!¡±


    Chuckling, Gan asked her to come in. ¡°Would you like some tea?¡±


    ¡°I would,¡± Arriane said, finally smiling. ¡°There¡¯s something I want you to see.¡± She looked over Gan¡¯s shoulder at the cookie feat the Pixies were having. ¡°Do you have any more cookies?¡±


    ¡°A few,¡± Gan said. ¡°Probably be making more before the day¡¯s over.¡± Together, the two women stepped outside.


    <hr>


    Umber walked through the freight carriage, clipboard in hand. The porters had moved all the freight stopping at Dragon market near the rear door, and he began going through each of them. Grabbing the papers off the first crate, he glanced at them, saw their seal was marked paid, and made a note on his master list.


    ¡°You can take this one, Hezney,¡± he said to the porter.


    The short Spriggan man nodded, and moved it outside. This went on for six crates.


    On the seventh, the paperwork was marked ¡°To be paid by the receiver.¡± He looked at the invoice, which had been checked in at the town of Bithanay, just north of the Inland Sea. Dyestuffs, the invoice said. He checked the name of the addressee. It wasn¡¯t to the local wool mill, like he was expecting, or even the draper with all his bolts of cloth. Instead, it was addressed to one Margarthy Hempseed, who he knew from other things, was the most popular hairdresser in the town. ¡°Someone¡¯s been keeping a secret,¡± he muttered. ¡°Wonder who it is?¡±


    He put the papers in a separate file, and heard footsteps behind him. He assumed it was Hezney moving back into position. ¡°All right. Let¡¯s put this in the collection pile.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think so,¡± said a soft female Dragonkin voice.


    Umber swerved around, his wings flittering behind him. ¡°Lana! What are you doing here?¡± His spikes glowed with pleasant surprise.


    ¡°I¡¯m on break,¡± she said, airly. ¡°So I thought I¡¯d come to see if you¡¯re going to be in the usual place for lunch.¡±


    Her smile was warm, and part of Umber felt like he could fall into it forever. He took a deep breath, and nodded. ¡°I can¡¯t see why not. Unless you know who decides to pull a stunt or something.¡±


    ¡°Good. I have something for you to try today. I¡¯m tired of watching you eat field rations.¡± Her smile grew even brighter, her ruff blushed prettily, and his heart started to beat just a little faster. Pirouetting around, she waved at him, and headed out of the carriage, passing Hezney on her way out.


    ¡°I think that girl¡¯s sweet on you,¡± he said, in a deep gruff voice that was surprising for someone of his size.


    ¡°Is she?¡± Umber asked. Shaking his head he directed Hezney to put the dyestuffs crate on the collect pile. It took the young Dragonkin slightly longer than normal to check the next crate.


    ¡°And I think he¡¯s sweet on her,¡± the Sprigan said to himself. ¡°Wonder how it¡¯s all going to turn out?¡±

 Day 14 of the Warming Month, Continued 2

    Chapter 40


    Difficult situations require escaping from our comfortable ways of doing things. Break out of your box. Bring in fresh eyes, if necessarily. Repeating the mistakes of the past is not how to untie the knots of a stalled investigation.


    DIC Manual


    It was mid-morning in Pixie Hollow. Gan, sleeves rolled up and flour smears on her apron, stood in the yard in front of the house, a bit past the flower bed, looking at the driveway that ran from her house to the King¡¯s Highway. It was a nice bit of driveway, lined with rock and stands of wildflowers. Gan thought it gave a pleasant look to the yard, a nice frame to her work in the garden or doing her laundry. But this day, that was not where her attention was focused. Rob Woodway, dressed in the smock and gaiters he wore while doing gardening work, stood next to a cart with brightly painted sides, flowers and leaves twisting into interwoved geometries against a dark blue background. The driver¡¯s bench was near the front, leaving plenty of room for carrying things behind it. The only thing Gan could see were the handles of several tools. Harnessed to it was a small horse, chestnut in color ¨C and the horse had all of Rob¡¯s attention.


    Arriane joined Gan. ¡°What do you think about that?¡±


    ¡°Rather pretty cart. And the mare seems sweet tempered. So this is how you got here today?¡±


    ¡°Indeed. A pleasant little trip. I had already planned to come here before Gweir showed up, but that happening made it even more pleasant. Gweir¡¯s been gone so long, Elaine won¡¯t have time to think about anything else for the next day or two. I¡¯d rather not be in their way.¡±


    Gan raised her eyebrow at that. ¡°Well, you know your sister and brother in law. You¡¯re welcome to spend some time here if you like.¡±


    ¡°Thank you very much, but my sister¡¯s coach should be her in about an hour, and then I shall be off to the White Island for a week. It¡¯s time I check in with the Oldest, anyway. She¡¯s been very nice letting me spend some time here for a while, but I do have duties with the White Circle.¡±


    ¡°I hadn¡¯t realized you were working with them,¡± Gan said. ¡°I never got to meet the Oldest when I was doing my studies there. Goosequills tend to run in different circles than the White Circle¡¯s magic studies.¡±


    ¡°You might not have met her, but she knows of you, and holds you in high regard as a practioner of practical magics. When she found out you were here, and going to tutor my brother, she wanted me to take lessons in practicals from you. Told me that your type of magic is the basis of all Aos Si magic, and I should learn it.¡±


    Gan¡¯s eyes opened wide. ¡°Now that...that is surprising. I know I¡¯ve done some papers at conferences, but mostly I spent my time being a school teacher. Never thought I¡¯d come to her attention.¡±


    ¡°Could be someone at Goosequill was trying to use her as influence to get you to move to the White Isle and become one of their staff, so she looked into who you were. The White Circle has ways of learning all sorts of things.¡±


    ¡°So I¡¯ve heard. She¡¯d never have gotten to go to the White Isle, I¡¯m afraid. I don¡¯t want to work in a place like that, and I loved working with my students.¡± Gan sighed. ¡°But she¡¯s right. The basis of all our magic started there. I know the White Circle magic is designed to teach people to join their innate power to one another, so it can be released through the a person trained to use it for a purpose.¡±


    Arriane nodded.


    ¡°Practical magic, the basic magic, is using that power for yourself, not joining to another¡¯s, much like the person in a White Circle unit who sends out the magic. It¡¯s often not as strong, but it¡¯s the bedrock of intentional magic.¡± Gan shrugged. ¡°This is what the Goosequills do, retain the old techniques for practical uses. Both methods are of use. And neither take magical devices, like touchstones. And they both take discipline.¡± She looked at the young woman. ¡°Sadly, a lot of people are content to buy devices any more. I hope we can keep the old magic alive. So she wants you to know something of both paths? That¡¯s interesting.¡±


    ¡°She surprised me when she asked me,¡± Arriane admitted. ¡°But enough about me and learning. Let¡¯s go rescue the horse Betts from Rob, shall we?¡±


    The two women closed the gap quickly. The horse, less focused on Rob than Rob was on her, bobbed her head as they joined him.


    ¡°Good morning, Rob,¡± Gan said. ¡°What have you got there?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t mention it earlier, but that¡¯s why a coach is coming for me to take me to Goblin Market. The cart and the horse is a gift from Elaine,¡± Arriane said. ¡°She thought you need a better way to get to Allynswood, and she knows you don¡¯t like to ride. While we were discussing the best ways to get you to the estate, I remembered about this cart. I used it a lot when I was younger, and suggested it. We checked it out ourselves, and the staff had kept it in excellent shape Elaine was very enthusiastic when she saw it,¡± Arriane said. She patted the young gardener on the back. ¡°Once we settled on that, Rob here picked out the horse.¡±


    ¡°Betts is her name?¡± Gan said. ¡°We certainly have room¡­¡± but the tone in her voice carried more than a little uncertainty.


    ¡°See, Betts,¡± Rob said to the animal. ¡°I told you she was nice. You¡¯ll like it here, and I¡¯ll be over most days. You¡¯ll be the only horse here, but you won¡¯t be alone. There are two cows and seven goats. You¡¯ll be able to boss them all around.¡±


    Bu flew out of the house and buzzed Rob¡¯s head. ¡°You brought a monster here?¡±


    The horse¡¯s ear flicked, which somehow caught the Pixie¡¯s attention. He flew over to her and landed between her ears. Bets shook her head, knocking the Pixie off.


    ¡°There¡¯s a lot of Pixies around here, too, Betts,¡± Rob said as the little man picked himself off and lifted off into the air to examine the horse at a safer distance. ¡°You¡¯ll have to get used to it. You can boss them if you want. I know horses are immune to Pixie dust.¡±


    ¡°Hey,¡± Bu said, landing on the gardener¡¯s head. ¡°We were here first.¡±


    ¡°Betts isn¡¯t a monster,¡± Rob said, patting the animal¡¯s neck. ¡°She¡¯s a great cart pony, and this cart¡¯s just the right size for her to pull. She will let you ride her, but she rather pull.¡± He turned to Gan. ¡°When they told me to pick out a horse for the cart, I knew she was just the right one.¡± He beamed Gan a smile, rather proud of being able to do what he thought was best for his new boss.


    ¡°A horse? And why do I need a horse?¡± Gan asked, looking askance at both the horse and the cart. ¡°They¡¯re both beautiful, but if I need to pull a load, I have a perfectly good wagon and two cows.¡±


    ¡°Oxen are slow,¡± Arriane said. ¡°And you¡¯ll be going up to Allynswood multiple times a week once you start your lessons. And it¡¯ll make it a lot easier to get to Goblin Market when you need to shop or check your Dragon Web messages. Your wagon is so big for that type of work. The cart will be better and more comfortable. And Elaine plans to take care of the extra feed and care. Whatever Betts needs, Rob will make sure she gets it.¡±


    Gan stroked her chin. ¡°Maybe you have a point.¡± She turned to Rob. ¡°So you know how to take care of horses?¡±


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Arriane giggled at that.


    Moxie, attracted by the noise, flew to Gan¡¯s shoulder, holding a cookie crumb. She looked at the laughing woman, and couldn¡¯t figure out what set her off. ¡°Is there something wrong with her?¡± She took a bite of her treasure.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think so,¡± Gan said to the pixie. ¡°Wait and watch. I want to know, too.¡±


    ¡°Oh, if you had only been around with we were younger. Rob used to run to the stables every time he snuck away from the gardens,¡± Arriane said. ¡°The thought of him not knowing about horses just struck me as so funny. He knows as much about the horses at Allynswood as the chief groom.¡±


    ¡°Maybe more,¡± Rob said. ¡°New chief groom talks a good game, but I don¡¯t know how much he likes horses.¡± He continued to sweet talk to the horse.


    ¡°So, I don¡¯t have to worry about that, at least,¡± Gan said, moving closer to the animal. ¡°So you¡¯re Betts?¡±


    Rob, watching Gan move close, slipped a piece of carrot into her hand. She nodded, and began to croon a little tune before offering it to the animal.


    Lovely Betts,


    pudding and pie,


    If you stay here,


    please don¡¯t cry.


    Blowie will listen,


    the goat dance high,


    the Pixies will watch


    until Rob comes by.


    Betts accepted Gan¡¯s offering, and Gan petted the animal, who seemed content.


    ¡°Song magic?¡± Arriane asked. ¡°I could feel it, you know.¡±


    ¡°A little practical application. Just a little to smooth the way. I just want her to feel content,¡± Gan replied. ¡°Let her know she¡¯s welcome.¡±


    ¡°She seems pretty content to me,¡± Rob said. ¡°And if introductions are over, I¡¯m going to go get her settled down and show her the pasture. She¡¯d rather do something than just stand around and listen to people talk. ¡± He got into the cart, and with a shake of the reins and a gentle command, drove off to the barn.


    ¡°Gan did the same thing to us, when she came here the first time, sang wonderful words about bread and soup and pie and being welcome. And bread,¡± Moxie said. She gave Gan another a neck hug. ¡°It was wonderful. I¡¯ll never forget that day. Especially the bread.¡±


    ¡°Speaking of bread, I bet it¡¯s time to take my bread out of the bake oven. I¡¯ll make us a fresh pot of tea, Arriane. Then maybe I¡¯ll make some cookies. Sugar cookies. How about that?¡±


    Moxie cheered.


    <hr>


    At DIC headquarters on Sunderland, Haran listened to Tansy¡¯s footsteps retreat from the opened door, as she left him to go back to her desk. In front of him was a medium sized office, dominated by a large desk filled with stacks of papers, a pen and ink set and a large tea mug. Along one of the walls there were cabinets filled with more papers, and a few books. On another, there was another one of those excellent maps the Dragonkin made, this time of all the Sunlit lands where the Dragonkin had a presence. The walls, like all the walls he had seen, were of some sort of fused stone, a technique the Dragonkin favored, and the room was as well lit as if it were outside by careful application of Dragonfire lighting technology. The one thing he almost didn¡¯t see was the gray Dragonkin sitting behind the desk, watching him calmly as he took it all in.


    Then something made his mind tingle, and Bryony popped clearly into view.


    ¡°I had heard that gray investigator families had a trait that could make them hard to notice,¡± Haran said. ¡°First time I¡¯ve experienced it. It¡¯s not invisibility, is it?¡±


    ¡°No. It¡¯s more akin to just making us disappear from your mind¡¯s notice. Anybody who has a resistance to it sees us fine.¡± Bryony stood up and shook Haran¡¯s hand. ¡°Welcome, Haran, and sorry. I was rather lost in thought. I sometimes slip into that mode when thinking. I guess it¡¯s my own body trying to protect me when my mind is elsewhere.¡± Byrony sat back down.


    Haran gave the Dragonkin a big grin. ¡°That¡¯s kind of useful. I wish I could hide from some of my co-workers that well when I¡¯m trying to think. Well, I made it as fast as I could,¡± Haran said. ¡°What can I do for you? I have no idea what to expect. We¡¯ve never done anything like this before.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s all new ground,¡± Bryony said, nodding. ¡°We¡¯ve never done this before, either. We¡¯ll both be feeling it out and experimenting with what works best for both sides. But our joint operation went rather smoothly. I think we can mesh together well.¡±


    Haran saw the chair in front of Byrony¡¯s desk, took off his pack and sat down. ¡°Right now we¡¯re investigating what¡¯s going on? We think something is afoot, but have only a few clues. Is it all connected? I know the DIC handles police functions. But do you also handle intelligence for the Dragonkin government? That¡¯s my special area. Ferretting out the clues and trying to put the picture together. The King¡¯s Guard handles the rest.¡±


    Byrony steepled his fingertips together. ¡°That¡¯s just what we¡¯re trying to do, put the big picture together. Police work, intelligence gathering...they¡¯re often one in the same,¡± he said, not exactly answering Haran¡¯s question. ¡°Or at least they overlap. Fraud, unregulated smuggling, breaking up trade wars and so on require keeping an eye on things. We need to know what¡¯s going on underneath the surface. And if it¡¯s bad enough to make Gandaran twitch, we can¡¯t know soon enough.¡±


    ¡°No doubt,¡± Haran said, nodding. ¡°Well, you have whatever my skills can do for you, long as you know I will be checking in from time to time with the White Circle.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s acceptable,¡± Byrony said nodding. He got up out of his chair. ¡°It was part of the agreement between the White Circle and us. I will say that I hope a fresh set of eyes and outlooks will help us figure out something we can use. I am...¡± He finally noticed the bag and pack Haran had dropped to sit and he frowned, his spike glowing just a little. ¡°They didn¡¯t stop to put you up anywhere, but dragged you straight here?¡±


    Haran shrugged. ¡°Straight from the Dragon Web station. A nice young first year named Greenwood Grayscale met me there, put me in a coach, and dropped me here. Tansy Redwood said something about me being housed on premises, but she didn¡¯t know anything for sure.¡±


    Byrony sighed and rolled his eyes. ¡°I tell you, sometimes our people have no brains. I¡¯ll have to have a talk with the DIC chief at the station about appropriate plans. More proof that this is all so new to us. I¡¯ll talk with Rust. She¡¯s from Logistics, and does amazing things, and thank the Lifegiver, she¡¯s part of the team we¡¯re putting together. I¡¯d like to put you up in something better than one of those little dorm rooms we use for lower rank DIC who do a tour at Headquarters. We will all need to have some space to refresh ourselves. But first, since you¡¯re here, why don¡¯t you leave your things here and we¡¯ll go meet the team.¡±


    ¡°Sounds good,¡± Haran said.


    The pack and bag were stashed in one of Byrony¡¯s cabinets, and they left the office to go down a small corridor that branched off from the back of the main room.


    ¡°Did they remember to give you the key? A small touchstone card?¡± Byrony asked.


    Haran patted his pocket. ¡°They did indeed. I got to watch Zedna and Tansy almost have a fight. Are those two always like that?¡±


    ¡°More that you want to know.¡± Byrony activated the door and the two stepped through. Haran noticed it felt like another no space jump. Part of him wondered how spread out the various places in DIC Headquarters was, but didn¡¯t say anything.


    They stepped into another very bright room, larger than the main office. There were doors that led off in various directions, offices and labs. The room was dominated by tables with charts behind them, and piles of papers and what Haran guessed was evidence, since it didn¡¯t make much sense otherwise. The center of the room was dominated by an assortment of tables and desks.


    Heads turned as they walked in, and a rather heated discussion between a gray dragon and a Daoine man stopped abruptly.


    ¡°So you made it,¡± said a gray Dragonkin wearing a bright green tunic. ¡°Welcome to the madhouse, where we work together to put a puzzle together, even without having all the pieces.¡±


    ¡°The best type,¡± Haran said, bowing slightly.


    ¡°Haran, meet Asper Bloodstone, one of my best field men. He¡¯ll be popping in between fieldwork and work here,¡± Byrony said. ¡°The woman sitting in the corner behind a stack of papers and a calculating table is Rust. Wave hello, Rust.¡±


    Rust, the only non-gray Dragonkin in the room, waved a brown arm the air, and went back to checking figures.


    A Dragonkin wearing a DIC uniform with the jacket unbuttoned, stood up from his seat, and walked around to the front of his desk, and leaned against it. ¡°Haran, huh, like in the city?¡±


    ¡°My family was from there,¡± Haran said. ¡°But don¡¯t ask me why my family took that name. Never thought to ask my father, and now I can¡¯t.¡± He shrugged. ¡°It works. Everybody has to be called something.¡±


    ¡°Truth,¡± Bryony said. ¡°Haran, meet Yosh Boudin. I¡¯ve worked with him a long time, and he¡¯s an excellent investigator. He does that irritating question routine all the time, but amazingly, it¡¯s opened a number of doors over the years.¡±


    Haran gave him a nod.


    ¡°Lero Bluestone,¡± Byrony said. The young Daoine man looked up from where he was working on a piece of equipment.


    ¡°Yes?¡± Bluestone asked.


    ¡°Meet Haran. Bluestone is our equipment expert. If something can be made to work, he can do it. If you¡¯re trying to figure out how something was made, he can do it. He¡¯s rather invaluable to the team.¡±


    ¡°Good to meet you, Bluestone,¡± Haran said, nodding.


    Bluestone waved, and went back to his work.


    Haran was introduced to several more people before being led to the back of the room. A gray Dragonkin, a little shorter than most of them, sat there, watching the proceedings with bright eyes, and little expression.


    ¡°And finally,¡± Bryony said. ¡°The master of this place. Master Investigator, meet Haran of the White Circle.¡±


    Haran smiled, and offered his hand. Master Investigator gave him a long, deep look that made Haran almost shiver, as if he were being probed. Suddenly, a warm wash ran over him, and he felt he had passed some sort of test. The Master Investigator took his hand. ¡°Welcome! Let¡¯s see what we can find out. Time to investigate.¡±

 Day 14 of the Warming Month, Continued 3

    Chapter 41


    Cultivate your friends. Do not take them for granted. This means being willing to give of yourself at times, and not just taking. Do remember, though, a person who wants you to give and give and gives little to nothing in return may not really be a friend you can rely on when it¡¯s your time for need. Or might not really be a friend at all, but merely an acquaintance, or someone walking down the same road for the time, with no true bonds. Once you learn to tell the difference, your life will improve. This is an important lesson. As we leave the longer nights behind at Spring Crossing, and celebrate the longer days that lead to Summer, let us examine our lives and work to make our friendships bloom like Spring.


    Excerpt, Sermon at Spring Crossing, given in the Lifegiver¡¯s Chapter House, Greenholt, White Island, by Immyrah Whitethorn, Chief Acolyte to the Lifegiver


    In Goblin Market, at the Dragon Web station, two people were finishing up their morning shift in a freight container.


    ¡°I¡¯m glad that¡¯s over,¡± Umber Madrona said, looking around the carriage. Neatly stacked barrels and crates lined the walls, bundles and bags were piled towards the middle, and in the animal pen, three cows and two pigs were being cared for by an animal handler.


    Umber nodded in satisfaction. All the merchandise being delivered to Goblin Market was accounted for and either already picked up or waiting to be delivered. The last bundle of goods set to go on to Meridae had been put on board.


    Gob Hezney, the short, squat Spriggan man who worked with him sorting the freight, wiped his forehead with a colorful handkerchief. Like all Spriggans he had a huge head for the size of his body, and had a substantial amount of forehead to wipe. ¡°Glad we¡¯re done. It¡¯s good to get a rest before the next shipment comes in. Turbot¡¯s got a load of wool already waiting to go out. Stinky stuff, wool. And Allynswood¡¯s sending a bunch of wheat out.¡± He leaned against the carriage wall, and stuffed his hankerchief back in his pants pocket. ¡°We¡¯ll be busy, even if Waterford doesn¡¯t send anything.¡±


    ¡°A full day today,¡± Umber said, nodding to his co-worker, as he went through the stack of papers he had collected during the shift. ¡°But we have a couple of hours to go before it comes in¡±


    ¡°And you have a lunch meeting, if you can keep from having Thornfield loading you down with extra.¡± The Spriggan smiled. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t want to miss that, if I were you.¡±


    Umber¡¯s spikes glowed a little. If he were a Daoine, he would be blushing. ¡°Lucky for me, it¡¯s his day off. All day long.¡±


    The Spriggan clapped him on the back. ¡°Well then, that¡¯s a good thing. Don¡¯t be late for your lady friend then. I¡¯ll see you after lunch to clean up the mess of whatever those fools in Waterford send here. My missus will have dinner waiting for me, so I¡¯m off!¡±


    The Spriggan stepped out of the carriage, and Umber followed him. He gave a signal to the transport crew, and they secured the carriage for transport. Before he left the warehouse, weaving between crates of goods waiting pickup or their turn at shipping the vehicle was gone.


    Umber stepped outside through the freight door. It was mostly quiet out there ¨C a couple of wagons were waiting to pick up or deliver loads, and some of their drivers were resting in the shade, waiting for their turn to move forward in line. A few other people, mostly who worked in shipping and handling, were sitting outside during their break, eating lunch or just resting. One group was playing a card game. Only one of these people were Dragonkin. The shipping and handling was mostly handled by people like Spriggans and Bauchan, although there was one Knocker in the card game. He passed them by on the way to the front of the station. Two of the Spriggans waved as he went, and he waved back. Shipping and Handling had come to highly prefer him working freight over Thornfield, and it showed by how he was treated.


    ¡°Did you see all the wool bags, Master Umber?¡± the Knocker said, discarding a card to moans from his fellow players. ¡°Where does Turbot get all that sheep fuzz?¡±


    ¡°In the hills, I guess.¡± Umber shrugged. ¡°At least we don¡¯t have to wash and spin it before shipping.¡±


    That image brought a wave of snickers. ¡°Imagine you trying to hold a distaff, Zoey?¡± said one of Bauchan workers. He mimicked a woman spinning. He spoke in a falsetto. ¡°Just a few more minutes, Master Umber? I¡¯m almost through this skein!¡±


    The card players, including Zoey, cracked up laughing.


    ¡°There are worse things,¡± Umber said, nodding. He waved goodbye and headed for the front. He normally walked around the length of the building instead of through the complex because it was closer to his office that way, and he was less likely to be waylaid by Thornfield or other people to do this or that. And he missed the sunlight and fresh air after being cooped up in Shipping and Handling and cargo carriers all morning. It had become a pleasant habit.


    And sometimes he got to see or even talk to interesting customers walking into the station. This day, he reached the front of the station as a fine carriage drove up. He recognized it as the one that belonged to Allynswood. He paused for a moment and watched as the groom dismounted and opened the door, and Lady Elaine¡¯s sister Arriane stepped out of the vehicle.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± she said to the groom. ¡°Could you get my bag to the check in counter for me?¡±


    ¡°Yes, my lady,¡± the groom said, and took the bag from the back of the carriage and headed inside.


    Umber stepped up a few steps, and coughed into his hand. Arriane swerved around and saw him.


    ¡°Hello there!¡± she said, giving him a big smile. ¡°I¡¯m off on one of my trips again. And you¡¯re still here.¡±


    He bowed slightly. ¡°I am, indeed, Lady Arriane. Going back to the White Isle?¡±


    Arriane nodded. ¡°My mother¡¯s been asking for me to give her a visit. And now seemed like it¡¯s a good time.¡±


    ¡°I hear your brother-in-law has come home for awhile, and you¡¯re just leaving?¡± Umber asked.


    ¡°How...I know he didn¡¯t come in at the station here.¡± Arriane looked at him, perplexed.


    ¡°He might not have come through the station, but his luggage did¡­¡± Umber shrugged. ¡°When you spend all your time working with shipping and handling, you notice a few things.¡±


    Her laugh ran clear. ¡°Especially when the young man noticing is a talented young Investigator working through his first year.¡±


    This time, Umber¡¯s spikes definitely blushed. ¡°I...uh, I just sort of notice things like that. It¡¯s kind of automatic.¡±


    ¡°Nothing wrong with that. Yes, my sister hasn¡¯t seen Gweir in months. I thought I¡¯d give them some space, and my mother has been nagging me for a visit. It really did seem like a good time.¡± She gave him a careful look. ¡°You seem to be doing better than the first time I saw you.¡±


    Umber nodded. ¡°I learned a few things that have made my time here a little better. And I¡¯ve made a few friends. It helps.¡±


    ¡°It does indeed. I¡¯ll see you in a week or two, or maybe my luggage will.¡± Waving, she walked through the doors.


    ¡°Lady Elaine must truly be distracted,¡± Umber said. ¡°She sent her sister off without any sweets,¡± Umber noticed. ¡°But she did have the smell of cookies about her. I wonder if she ate them all before she got here?¡±


    <hr>


    In the house at Pixie Hollow, Moxie looked at the platter of sugar cookies longingly. She flittered around it, making little, lazy circles.


    ¡°It¡¯s too close to lunch time to eat any more cookies.¡± Mistress Gan took her big spoon and stirred the big soup pot on the fire.


    ¡°But¡­¡± Moxie said.


    Dahlia, sitting on one of the rafters, giggled.


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    ¡°If you weren¡¯t so cookie greedy,¡± Arne said, sitting on one of the kitchen counters, arms crossed, ¡°Mistress Gan wouldn¡¯t have had to use magic to protect them.¡± He also clearly wasn¡¯t content with the current situation.


    Pye, sitting on the ground beneath him, meowed in agreement.


    ¡°When the cat and Arne actually agree on something, you know it¡¯s true, Moxie,¡± Gillie said, watching Gan at work.


    ¡°You have a point there,¡± Gan said. She put her big spoon back on the spoon rest. ¡°The soup¡¯s about done. When Rob comes in, we¡¯ll eat lunch.¡± She moved over to the cabinet, and took out several saucers, two bowls and a couple of plates, and quickly set the table for two large people and the Pixies. Next she sliced up the bread, several large pieces and and a section that she broke up into many small crumbs.


    The door opened. ¡°Am I late?¡± Rob asked as he stood in the entryway. He stepped out of his muddy boots and left them near the door.


    ¡°Late enough,¡± Bu said, landing on his shoulder. ¡°I¡¯m really hungry.¡±


    ¡°Go wash up,¡± Gan directed. ¡°You managed to get a little dirt on your cheek.¡±


    ¡°Did I?¡± Rob said, moving to the wash stand. Quickly he washed his hands and face. ¡°Must have been when I chased that pesky goat out of the garden and back to the pasture.¡±


    ¡°Goats are sneaky. And their eyes are weird,¡± Arne said.


    ¡°Need to be sneaky when they¡¯re dealing with someone trying to pull their beards,¡± Gan said.


    ¡°But I stopped doing that,¡± Arne said. ¡°But they still try to flick me away when I fly by.¡±


    ¡°Then stop flying by them,¡± Moxie said, landing on the table. ¡°Maybe if you stay away long enough, they¡¯ll leave you alone.


    ¡°What¡¯s the fun in that?¡± Arne said.


    Gan rolled her eyes, and began dipping up soup. She put a bowl in front of Rob. ¡°So, how is Betts settling down?¡±


    ¡°Ah, she loves the new pasture. Blowie seems to have taken to her. Not so sure about Cin.¡±


    ¡°Ah, Cin¡¯s a bit shy,¡± Gan said, handing the bread tray to Rob, who took a piece. ¡°And if one Pixie wasn¡¯t so determined to ride her all the time,¡± she said, looking at Hilby.


    The little man looked up. ¡°But she¡¯s so pretty, and so warm. I just want to take a nap on her back.¡±


    Cowslip gave him a shove.


    ¡°Why¡¯d you do that for,¡± Hilby asked, surprised. In his surprised reaction, he dropped the crumb of bread he had picked up. Seamus made quick work of it.


    ¡°Oh, you¡¯re so silly and so warm. I just wanted to shove you, that¡¯s all,¡± Cowslip said.


    ¡°It¡¯s not the same thing!¡± Hilby declaimed, and flew over to sit by the windowsill.


    Rob tipped his head, thoughtfully, then picked up his soup spoons. ¡°Sounds similar to me.¡± He dipped his spoon in the soup, and took a first bite. ¡°Ah, so good.¡±


    Cowslip stuck her tongue out at Hilby then went to get a bit of bread.


    Soon, there were saucers of soup on the table for the pixies, and plenty of bread for everybody, and Gan herself finally got to sit down and take her first bite.


    ¡°Well I¡¯ve started putting in the vegetable bed, but it¡¯ll take me more than one day, I think,¡± Rob said.


    ¡°Why does it take so long?¡± Moxie asked, dipping a piece of bread into the soup. ¡°You¡¯re so big. I wouldn¡¯t think it would take any time at all!¡±


    ¡°I wish! Growing things like a garden takes a lot to start with.¡±


    ¡°Is it worth it?¡± Seamus asked. ¡°So much to eat that doesn¡¯t take any work. Dandelions, henbit, wild mustard, pigweed. That¡¯s what we would eat before Mistress Gan came by and it all grows wild. No work needed.¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± Rob started.


    ¡°Do you like the soup you¡¯re eating?¡± Gan asked.


    Seamus nodded.


    ¡°Well I can¡¯t make that out of dandelion, henbit, pigweed and wild mustard. I probably could make something, but it wouldn¡¯t taste the same. And I certainly can¡¯t make bread that way.¡± She took another sip of her soup.


    ¡°No bread?¡± Moxie looked stricken. She lifted up and flew to Gan. ¡°Bread¡¯s even more important than sugar cookies!¡±


    ¡°Couldn¡¯t make them without farming, either.¡± Gan shrugged.


    ¡°Takes a lot of muscle power to grow wheat for flour,¡± Rob said. ¡°Plowing, harrowing, sowing, weeding, harvesting, threshing, grinding, sifting¡­¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m convinced,¡± Seamus said. ¡°Take all the time you need, Rob.¡±


    ¡°You better be,¡± Gilly, who had come to sit next to him, said nodding vigourously. ¡°You can keep your nasty pigweed. I¡¯ll take bread any day!¡± She helped herself to another crumb.


    ¡°But what -¡± Whatever Gan was going to say was interrupted by a knock on the door. She put down her spoon with a sigh, and pushed her chair away from the table. ¡°Well, let¡¯s see who that is, shall we?¡±


    Gan walked to the front door, Moxie landing on her shoulder as she went. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s Leila with some sugar cookies,¡± the pixie said. ¡°I could compare hers with yours. Which one would I like better?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll have to test that one day.¡± Gan chuckled, and opened the door.


    Surprisingly, it was Leila. She, all smiles and golden hair, was standing there, but much to Moxie¡¯s disappointment, she had no bag of cookies in her hand. Instead, she held a book in her hand. And she was not alone. Morvran flew into the room, to land on the table.


    ¡°What the -¡± Rob said, grabbing his bowl and pushing away from the table. ¡°Shoo, bird!¡±


    The Pixies rose up, yelling at the bird. Hilby and Seamus threw chunks of bread at the raven, which Morvran promptly ate.


    ¡°Nobody makes bread like Mistress Gan,¡± Morvran said.


    ¡°And he talks, too?¡± Rob snuck a spoonful out of his soup bowl, but continued to guard his lunch.


    ¡°Too much, too often,¡± Dahlia said, landing on the gardener¡¯s shoulder. ¡°He hangs out with Cullin in the woods. I think even the Tree Shepherd gets tire of his noise sometimes.


    Morvran cawed, and bowed his head. ¡°What does that old Tree Shepherd know? Smells good in here,¡± he said. ¡°What¡¯s for lunch?¡±


    Arne fluttered next to him and looked him in the eye. ¡°You¡¯re too late,¡± he said in his best authoritarian voice. ¡°We already started. We¡¯re almost done.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Moxie said, joining him. ¡°We had soup and bread and there¡¯s cookies and pie.¡±


    ¡°Sounds good. Where¡¯s mine?¡¯ the raven asked. He walked across the table and pecked at another unclaimed crumb.


    ¡°Morvran!¡± said Leila, aghast at the behavior of the raven. ¡°What are you doing?¡±


    ¡°Being rude, that¡¯s what he¡¯s doing,¡± said a soft male voice at the door. Cullin, the Tree Shepherd in his mossy cloak and broadbrimmed hat stood there, his arms crossed, staring at the bird.


    Most of the Pixies dashed to the rafters. Rob¡¯s eyes grew wide at the sight of the Tree Shepherd and he scooted even further back.


    ¡°Well, come in, you two,¡± Gan said. ¡°Pixies, there¡¯s plenty of food for both them and you, and I¡¯ll not turn away anybody who comes at meal time.¡± She took out another saucer, dipped up some soup and adding a bit of bread, and put it on the table by Morvran. ¡°Here you go, Master Raven. Enjoy.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, ma¡¯am,¡± Morvran said. He glared at Arne. ¡°Some people are more gracious than Pixies, evidently!¡±


    ¡°I hope you know what you¡¯re doing,¡± Leila said, giggling. ¡°I was nice to him once, and he¡¯s never let me forget it.¡±


    ¡°You know you love me,¡± Morvran muttered between bites.


    ¡°Have a seat, Leila. Would you like something? We just got started on our soup. Would you like some? Or there¡¯s pie. And I could make some more tea.¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t coming over for lunch. I came over to share that book I was telling you about when you came over,¡± Leila said, taking a seat at the table. ¡°It took a bit, but I found out where the Wood Wives had hid it. And these two decided to follow me over, don¡¯t ask me why. But I think a cup of tea would be lovely,¡± she said. ¡°And maybe a little piece of pie.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s lovely,¡± Gan said. ¡°I¡¯ve been wanting to read it for the longest.¡± She set up her teapot for a fresh pot, and poured the hot water that had been waiting over the fire over the leaves.¡±


    Morvran took a bite of something in the soup. ¡°Tea is overrated.¡±


    ¡°Well maybe for ravens,¡± Leila said. ¡°But then, I think carrion is highly overrated myself. And tea and sweets are the best.¡±


    ¡°Yes!¡± Moxie said. ¡°Do you have any?


    ¡°Alas, no, not this time,¡± Leila said. ¡°Sometimes, I come around for things besides eating, Dahlia. There are other things as important.¡±


    ¡°More important than eating?¡± the little pixie asked, shocked.


    ¡°Well, maybe not more important, but just as,¡± Leila said.


    ¡°I¡¯ll never understand big people,¡± Moxie said. And with that she went to pinch Arne, who was sneaking up on Morvran¡¯s tail feathers.


    ¡°Now you, Master Cullin,¡± Gan said. ¡°Come take a place.¡± She led him to a place across the table from Rob. ¡°And Rob, scoot your chair back. Nobody at this table is going to eat your lunch but you.¡±


    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡± Rob cautiously moved his chair back into position, but not willing to meet Cullin¡¯s eyes. The Tree Shepherd noticed this, raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°Relax, young Rob Woodway. The Lady Sulis herself has put Mistress Gan under my protection, and you are under hers, so unless you mean her harm, you have nothing to fear from me unless you walk through my wood without permission.¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir.¡± Rob swallowed. ¡°I¡¯d never want to harm Mistress Gan. She¡¯s been nothing but kind to me.¡± He sighed. ¡°Making all my wishes come true.¡±


    ¡°A kind of catalyst for good change,¡± Leila said, looking at Cullin.


    Cullin shrugged slightly.


    Gan raised her eyebrow at the mention of Lady Sulis. She only knew of one Sulis, but then shook her head, and and dipped a bowl of soup for Cullin, and cut a slice of pie for Leila.


    ¡°Rob, have you met Leila before? She lives in Cullin¡¯s forest,¡± Gan asked. ¡°She and I love to read the same things. I hope she comes to visit often.¡±


    The young man shook his head.


    ¡°I hope to as well,¡± Leila said, beaming.


    ¡°Rob¡¯s here to be my gardener,¡± Gan said.


    ¡°And handyman,¡± the young man said. Slowly he brought a spoon of soup up to his mouth.


    ¡°He likes goats,¡± Arne said, shuddering. Moxie gave him a nudge, and then handed him a crumb of bread.


    ¡°You¡¯re the son of Bart Woodway, right?¡± Leila asked. Her smile was disarming, and Rob found himself relaxing under her attention.


    The young man nodded. ¡°How¡¯d you know?¡±


    ¡°We used to swap gardening stories. Does he still work for Lady Elaine in her private garden?¡±


    ¡°Not as much as he used to. His back¡¯s been giving him too much trouble do be a full-time gardener any more.¡±


    ¡°Tell him Leila hopes he¡¯s still doing well, and she misses his stories. Also, that the rosebush he helped me plant is still growing!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll like to hear that, ma¡¯am.¡± Rob, far more relaxed, went back to his soup with some enthusiasm.


    Gan poured tea, and then finally got to sit back down to her soup. ¡°That reminds me,¡± she said between bites. ¡°I have some ointment I want you to take back to your father. It might not cure his backache, but it might help with the pain.¡±


    ¡°Thank you ma¡¯am,¡± the young man said.


    Morvran finished the last of his soup, and began looking around the table. Seamus and Hilby stood up to protect their saucer of soup when he began to eye it.


    ¡°Morvran,¡± Cullin said. ¡°Even a rude soul like you needs to remember to behave.¡±


    Morvran cawed and ruffed his neck feathers. ¡°What¡¯s for dessert?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Pie,¡± Gan said, and looking over her flock of Pixies, gave a little smile. ¡°And sugar cookies.¡±


    Moxie flew up in the air, cheering.


    ¡°But not until after the soup is done.¡±


    The raven cawed again. ¡°Bah. Call me when it¡¯s time,¡± Morvran said. And he flew out of the window.

 Day 14 of the Warming Month, Continued 4

    Chapter 42


    Getting oriented at your base, as full a briefing as possible, will often save you a lot of confusion later in the field. Just make sure it¡¯s pertinent to what¡¯s going on, and not just stalling to begin.


    DIC Manual


    In the special operations room at DIC headquarters, Byrony showed Haran to a room to the side of the main chamber.


    ¡°We need to reorganize our space,¡± the Dragonkin said. ¡°This is a big place, but there are times of the day we¡¯re almost tripping over each other. We¡¯ll figure out where to put you pretty soon, but feel free to use this space today while we get you up to date and sorted out. I thought I¡¯d answer any questions before you get overwhelmed by everything being thrown at you at once.¡±


    Haran pulled out the chair to the desk and sat down. Like most of the spaces he had seen at DIC headquarters, the walls were of smoothed stone, with hooks placed at regular intervals to hang charts from, with one wall supporting a bookcase, now empty. The lighting, like it was everywhere he had been, was excellent, close to daylight in color and intensity.


    Running his hand over the top of the desk, he felt the smooth surface, and couldn¡¯t decide if it were stone or fine, polished wood, although it did have a wood finish. In front of him was a fine ink and pen set, and a small shelf holding paper and notebooks. He pulled open the desk drawer. Inside were rulers, blotting material, paper fasteners and other small useful things. There was even a set of colored pencils. ¡°This will work,¡± he said, nodding at Byrony. He grabbed one of the notebooks and a pencil. ¡°So tell me what¡¯s going on.¡±


    ¡°As you probably know, there¡¯s been a series of¡­well I was going to use attacks, but the proper word might be incidents.¡± Bryony grabbed a chair and sat down near the Jinn. ¡°As we shifted through the data, we began to wonder if all these incidents on different sectors of Dragonkin industry and economic stability might be interconnected.¡± Bryony shrugged. ¡°We¡¯re still not sure, exactly, but ever since Grimsbeard reported Gandaran stirred in his sleep, we¡¯re more worried about some group, or at least someone person with a lot of resources is trying to undercut the Dragonkin pact.¡±


    ¡°Tell me again about the pact. Remember, being from the White Circle, you can¡¯t assume I have a real understanding about things that are everyday knowledge of your people.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s true.¡± He got up and snagged a cup of tea from the tea service on one of the tables along one side of the room. ¡°Want a cup?¡±


    ¡°You have a tea service in a room you weren¡¯t actively using?¡±


    ¡°We have tea set up in all the rooms. The DIC runs off of it. We bring in fresh tea extract every morning, concentrated and very strong. Don¡¯t try to drink it straight. Be sure to add hot water from the bottom urn to make it hot and drinkable.¡±


    Haran nodded, and watched him as he demonstrated. ¡°All the hot water comes from a central boiler, and as we take it out, it refills the tanks.¡±


    ¡°Amazing,¡± Haran said. ¡°It would be nice to have something like this back home, although I think the Oldest likes the ritual of making tea. I think she uses it as a way to think, so maybe that wouldn¡¯t work at all.¡± He accepted the cup Byrony offered him. He sipped it, and smiled. ¡°Surprisingly good.¡±


    ¡°It is, isn¡¯t it?¡± Bryony said. ¡°Although if you want a fresh cup, Tansy makes an even better cup.¡± He sat back down. ¡°I think some days that¡¯s the main reason a blue manages to keep her job among all of us grays.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand much about Dragonkin colors,¡± Haran said, putting his cup down.


    ¡°It¡¯s mostly just color variations,¡± Byrony said. ¡°Like why Lake people have green hair, and why Jinn are darker than people from Ynys Afel as a whole.¡±


    ¡°There are reasons for that,¡± Haran said. ¡°It¡¯s more than just coloring.¡±


    ¡°Once upon a time it was that way for our ancestors, too,¡± Byrony said, nodding. ¡°But for the most part it¡¯s just color nowadays. Another effect of Blazendraught, I guess. Maybe there¡¯s some residual traits left over from the days when our ancestors were really dragons, like Gandaran. Lots of people involved in Transport, for instance, are blue or black, and Financial leans towards red. Not enough to bank on, and it may even relate more to which families are bringing their relatives into the business.¡±


    ¡°But not grays?¡± Haran said, scribbling a note in his new notebook.


    Byrony nodded. ¡°Except for us grays. Most of us have a compulsion to understand things, get to the bottom of things. We have that handy trait that helps keep us unnoticed. And we don¡¯t, as a whole, care anything about gathering riches. We also tend to be smaller than most of the Dragonkin. Rumor is that back in the homeland, we were artificially created to be spies and assassins. Gandaran noticed we¡¯re more immune than most to the Fire Plague, and are resistant to bribed or tempted to look the other way for fun or profit, which really is a rare trait among Dragonkin as a whole, and turned us into his police force. And that¡¯s why we¡¯re where we¡¯re at.¡±


    ¡°So it¡¯s a bloodline thing?¡±


    ¡°Mostly. We let non-grays into the DIC, but everybody goes through a hard weeding out process, and most of them wash out or are content to be lower ranked Web station personnel. After the training academy, which is already hard, we put them through hell during their first year, doing drudge work. Next we put them through a period of doing adminstrative jobs, like that bunch in the main room of headquarters. Still some drudgework, but it feels more like real DIC related activity. If the candidate is in it for money or glory, they usually shake out. We need dependable and trustworthy, or the whole system falls apart.¡± He scratched under his chin. ¡°There might be a little graft in the sanctioned smuggling business, but we have a lot of checks and balances, and know where the weak links are. And we tend to shift those people around regularly to keep the business more or less honest.¡±


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    ¡°Fascinating.¡± Haran jotted a bit more into his notebook. ¡°Shows the difference from running a tight police force versus a military operation.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re definitely not an army. The Dragonkin have no standing army.¡±


    ¡°And the Aos Si have an army, covert and overt, that gets dragged into police work. Some of the big towns do a little police work, but that¡¯s as close as we come.¡±


    Bryony crossed his legs. ¡°That must make certain things happening more difficult to deal with.¡±


    Haran nodded. ¡°That¡¯s what the White Circle and the Birch¡¯s forces are for, to stay on top of things and combat what we can without bringing in the main King¡¯s Guard. They aren¡¯t very good at subtle or diplomatic situations.¡±


    ¡°That sounds about right,¡± Byrony said, draining his tea cup. Now let¡¯s back to what we were talking about earlier. You had questions about the Dragonkin pact?¡±


    Haran wasn¡¯t quite as done with his tea as Byrony, having been busy taking notes. He put his pencil down and took a sip. ¡°We know it exists, and it constrains what type of work various Dragonkin deal with, and it has a...well, maybe not religious, but sacred place in your people¡¯s consciousness.¡¯


    ¡°That it does. It is one of the bedrocks of why we don¡¯t need a standing army.¡± He got up and went over to the bookshelf and picked out a tall, thin volume and brought it back to the desk.


    ¡°To understand why it matters, you have to understand Dragon history. Before Gandaran opened the way to Sunderland through the aid of the Lifebringer, the life on Dragonhame was fast being destroyed. The plane was dominated by three great conglomerates.¡± He paused after saying that word, and looked around, as if he was worried someone had heard him say it. ¡°Don¡¯t use that word in Dragonkin company, by the way. It¡¯s considered highly rude.¡±


    ¡°I promise you I won¡¯t,¡± Haran said, shrugging. ¡°I¡¯m not even sure what it means, except for something mixed together, like some types of rocks that seem to be made up of other rocks.¡±


    ¡°Mixed together. Yes, that¡¯s the idea. The Three Great Houses of Dragonhame had done what we consider nowadays a great sin. They each were composed of many companies doing many types of work, squeezing out most other people who would try to make companies on their own. If you didn¡¯t work for one of the Great Three, you probably had no way of making a living.¡±


    Haran nodded his understanding. ¡°It sounds like it forced agreement and loyalty, or else starvation.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what the records we have say. And then the Great Three began to war with each other. The war was awful. It poisoned the land, killed countless people who were just trying to make a living. Great sums of money were spent to make weapons, physical and magical, diseases, things to send fire on opponents¡¯ strongholds or collapse their resources. The tales say that one of the great houses created we Grey Dragon types during this time, to function as spies and assassins.¡±


    ¡°Then one of the great houses, with ruins falling around them, released the blow Dragonkind could not escape from ¨C the Fire Plague. It is said they did it in vengeance, because everything they had was ruined in the war. That¡¯s no excuse. The last viable fighters among them were given the plague and sent out not to fight, but to wander through the landscape, meeting as many people as they could before succumbing to it.


    ¡°Fire plague is awful. It is used as the ultimate punishment even today,¡± Byrony said. ¡°The person goes mad with anger, and starts to destroy everything around them. If they can breathe fire, and some of us still can, they will ignite everybody and everything around them. In the old days, all dragons could breathe fire, and the devastation destroyed the last bit of hope. It spread like the fire they were breathing out. There were only a few survivors who had escaped the devastation deep in secret refuges under ground.


    ¡°Gandaran was in one of them, a holy man who was also gifted with the most brilliant mind for dealing with healing. He was also, amazingly a natural immune to the Fire Plague. There weren¡¯t many like him. At great risk, and with the help of the other immunes, he managed to create Blazendraught. It was an amazing medicine. As long as a person took it once a month, they remained sane and able to continue their lives. But at the same time it had a harrowing effect ¨C after continued use, the Dragons shrunk, became lesser, smaller, and their offspring, well, they looked like us. We kept our wings and our ability to ride through no-space and our ability to do a certain set of magics that few if any Aos Si can do. Bit by bit, he made contact with all the small groups of survivors, and dosed them. Changed was better than death.¡±


    ¡°Your poor ancestors,¡± Haran said, his face reflecting the effects of Byrony¡¯s story, eyes wide, mouth agape. ¡°That sounds worse than the Sundering War at its most vicious.¡±


    Byrony nodded. ¡°It was. Even with the last of the survivors given a chance at life again, Dragonhame was destroyed, its waters poisoned, its air almost unbreathable, and life was fast becoming a race against time. I told you Gandaran was a holy man, given to deep meditation and mystical studies. Somehow, during one of these sessions, he made contact with a gracious primordial being, the one you know as the Lifegiver, who showed him the route through no space to Sunderland. He was free to take the remnant of his people to the new land, as long as he would swear to make sure that what they did to their land could never happen there.


    ¡°I do not know if the pact was all Gandaran¡¯s idea, or done with consultation with the Lifebringer, or just the other survivors, but it was written to keep the same tendency to consolidation that lead to the Three Great Houses to ever happen again. No vertical organization was allowed. A company that made iron products was not allowed to own the companies that produced the iron or provided the fuel, nor were they allowed to open stores that sold the iron to people that wanted iron goods. A house could dominate all the smithies there are, but nothing beyond that.


    ¡°In the pact, Dragonkin society is divided into these areas: trade, transportation, finance, pharmaceuticals, and exploration. There is absolutely no company allowed to combine any two of them.¡±


    ¡°Heh, in Aos Si society, it seems that finance tries to own everything, if given half a chance, and there¡¯s not a clean division between trade and finance,¡± Haran said, finishing his tea.


    ¡°That¡¯s how our troubles started, back in Dragonhame. And Gandaran swore that would never happen with our people here. And to help keep it from happening, he brought us, the Grays who had been spies and assassins, to keep everybody honest.¡±


    ¡°And after he had brought everybody over and sworn to the pact, he went into his magical sleep.¡± Haran got up, and took his mug over to the tea service, and tried making his own cup of tea.


    ¡°A living, if not active seal on the pact,¡± Bryony said. ¡°There¡¯s a ring around the bottom third of the cup that tells you how much tea concentrate to add.¡±


    ¡°Thanks,¡± Haran said.


    ¡°Gandaran said if we forsook the path, he would arise and destroy every last dragonkin he found with his own hands, for voiding his word to the Lifegiver. Every time he has moved in his sleep, there¡¯s been some plot afoot. It¡¯s been our job to fix it before he fully arises.¡± He shoved the book he had pulled down towards Haran. ¡°Here, read this later. It explains it all more eloquently than I can. We keep it in all the DIC offices to help us stay focused.¡±


    Haran looked down at the volume. In gold letters, it proclaimed Gandaran and the Sacred Pact: A Short History.


    ¡°I will do. But based on what you¡¯ve told me, that brings us to where we are today,¡± Haran said, bringing his cup back to the desk. He took a sip of the tea and frowned. ¡°Evidently, you¡¯re better at making this stuff than me.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll get the hang of it. Lets hope we all get the hang of what¡¯s going on before Gandaran can wake up. This has been the oddest situation in all the years there was a Gandaran incident. All the divisions but Pharmaceuticals has been hit so far.¡± Byrony dropped his head and rested it on one hand.


    ¡°Does that mean you think the perpetrators might be from them?¡± Haran took another sip of his tea and tried not to wince.


    ¡°Probably not, but at this point, I¡¯m not ruling anything out.¡±


    ¡°We never stop investigating,¡± Haran quipped.


    Bryony smiled, a rare toothy smile. ¡°We¡¯ll make a DIC man out of you yet.¡±

 Day 14 of the Warming Month, Continued 5

    Chapter 43


    The DIC runs on tea.


    Quote attributed to the Third Master Investigator in Quips and Quotes, Meridian Avans, Sunderland Press


    ¡°How did I get involved with the White Circle?¡± Haran said. He rubbed the back of his head, as if trying to pull up old memories. ¡°Well when I was just out of secondary school, I was trying to decide what to do next? We were living in Meridae at the time when - ¡±


    A loud rap sounded on the door. Both men swerved around at the sound.


    ¡°Time for a round table,¡± came a voice on the other side. It was muffled, deep but loud, and Haran wasn¡¯t sure who was talking.


    ¡°Who was that?¡± Haran said.


    ¡°Sounded like Yosh Boudin. He¡¯s got the deepest and loudest voice of us all. I guess that was our cue,¡± the Dragonkin said, with a small sigh. ¡°So much for tea and questions and getting to understand each other better before we jump into the soup pot.¡± He got up, and took his mug to the tea service table and left it there. ¡°I think Master Investigator must be anxious to put your fresh eyes to work.¡±


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s why I came here for, I guess.¡± Haran stood up, grabbed his notebook and pencil, and slipped them into a pocket. ¡°Anything in particular I should be on the lookout for?¡±


    Byrony rubbed the back of his head, and thought for a moment. ¡°I tried to pick a good team, but I¡¯m not ruling out bias, especially against Jinn people. People make these assumptions based on who knows what.¡±


    ¡°I noticed that walking in. Something to do with the effect of the Gray Lands on Dragonkin magics, perhaps? Funny in my case. I was never much in the Gray Lands, proper. I was raised in Harani as a kid, and then we moved to Meridae, in Ynys Afel. Not much of a Jinn, except by ancestry.¡±


    The two men walked to the door. ¡°Maybe some of it is that. Cultural blinders afflict all peoples. And sometimes, they just want scapegoats they can blame things on. Even in the DIC.¡± Byrony reached for the doorknob.


    ¡°More common than you might think, everywhere,¡± Haran said.


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter how common,¡± Byrony said, turning to Haran. ¡°When working on investigations, we could be missing things because of those preconceived notions. One of the things we are looking at do involve a mining freehold in the Gray Lands. A rather nasty murder took place there recently, and at least some Dragonkin businesses had been interested in the place long before that happened. To add spice, a few years before that, it was hammered by an attack, supposedly of Gallu and their allies, but that¡¯s never quite sit right with some of us.¡±


    ¡°They suspect it was a Jinn operation?¡±


    ¡°Not with any evidence, just bias and gut reaction,¡± Byrony said, opening the door. ¡°If you pick up any of that, seeing us blinding ourselves that way, it would be useful if you can point it out. And if there¡¯s anything you know about the Gray Lands or Jinn culture or behavior, don¡¯t be afraid to speak up.¡±


    They started down the hallway. ¡°But it¡¯s possible you might face pushback or undercutting of anything you notice. If you do, come tell me.¡±


    ¡°Forewarning is forearmed,¡± Haran said.


    They stepped into the main room with its bright lights, clutter of desks and tables and clutter, where the bulk of people working on this operation, were gathering, sitting in small groups, leaning against tables. Two were sitting quietly alone, one reading a text, the other with crossed arms, watching the in-gathering. Master Investigator stood in the middle, behind his desk, waiting for the last of the stragglers. Haran and Byrony were not the last to walk in. The last to join their number was Asper Bloodstone, who carried a big roll of charts under one arm, which he plopped on the Master Investigator¡¯s desk, to the leader¡¯s irritation.


    ¡°The latest maps,¡± Asper said. ¡°Thought they might be useful,¡± he explained.


    Master Investigator shrugged. ¡°Maybe. If we get that far today.¡±


    ¡°Grab your tea, people,¡± Master Investigator said. ¡°Once we get good and started, I don¡¯t want any interruptions.¡±


    A few people went to the tea service and filled mugs. Master Investigator sat back down, examining the maps Asper had brought, squinting, frowning and shaking his head. ¡°Maybe this one,¡± he muttered, running his finger along some detail that nobody but he could see.


    Taking that as a sign of his impatience for getting started, nobody took long and hurried back to their places.


    Once he was sure everybody was through moving around, the senior investigator put the map down and looked at the crew gathered before him.


    ¡°I know I brought you all here on rather short notice, and made you drop other projects you were working on,¡± Master Investigator said. ¡°And we¡¯re still an awkward bunch who haven¡¯t smoothed out the kinks of how we¡¯ll work together, but your being here is important.¡±


    ¡°I hope so,¡± whispered a green haired woman in the back of the room. She was an unusual looking woman, with the green hair of the Lake people and the height and ears and brown eyes of a Bauchan. She wasn¡¯t dressed in any sort of uniform ¨C instead she wore a type of overall with many pockets on her chest and legs. There were tools protruding from several of them, and other things hanging from a belt, holstered and in pouches. ¡°My latest piece is too complex for my staff. If any of them touch it before we¡¯re done here, I¡¯ll kill them when I get back.¡±


    There was a little snicker of laughter in the room.


    ¡°You¡¯re not the only one with key projects just dropped, Leda Greenslope,¡± Master Investigator said, nodding towards the woman,¡°but I thank you, and at some point, President Grimsbeard himself will thank you, after we solve this situation.¡±


    ¡°Now, to what we are doing. You all know by now that Gandaran has moved in his sleep, and President Grimsbeard has pushed finding out why and stopping whatever is going on that caused it to the highest priority.¡±


    ¡°Are we really sure it¡¯s significant?¡± A sharply dressed female Dragonkin, wearing an immaculately pressed DIC uniform of the type only people in the Archives subdivision wore asked that question. She pressed a single finger to her mouth, and took a deep breath. ¡°I have never been able to find a suitable answer to that. Have the crises we have uncovered in the past been signaled by Blessed Gandaran, or has it all be coincidence? Are we missing plots and potential crises going on in the background all the time?¡±


    Master Investigator rubbed his forehead and sighed, then turned to face her. ¡°This is an interesting question, Tobris Slipstone. But we only have Gandaran¡¯s promise to warn us, and if we ignore the warning, the promise of his awakening and our destruction. Every time he stirred in the past, there was something there. And, add to the fact we¡¯ve seen far less plotting and schemes uncovered during other time periods, I lean to believe it is true. Still, an interesting speculation.¡±


    He rubbed his hands together. ¡°Now we have one of the most complex situations I think we¡¯ve faced. Every division of Dragonkin seems to be involved, except for pharmaceuticals. Finance, exploration, trade, transport all seem to have been targeted. What we are looking for seems to have started slowly, maybe six years ago, but has been building steam over the last year or two.Our job will be to investigate these events and decide if they are coincidence or coordination, and if coordination, run down the bastards doing it.¡±


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    He reached down to his desk, picked up his tea mug, gulped down a swallow and almost slammed it down on the desk. ¡°And before any of you flame jockies get any wild ideas, no I am not expecting just us eleven to solve the world¡¯s ills. We will approach it like proper DIC agents. There will be assignments to certain areas to start the investigation, assigned sectors. You are my team heads. You will be allowed to request your own team members and logistical support ¨C equipment, travel expenses, even perhaps granted access to places you don¡¯t normally get to have.¡±


    Rust stood up. ¡°Within reason, friends. Right now, we have the blessings of the Logistics office and the President, but do be careful. No telling when that blessing might get called back. You know the old saying about Dragonkin and gold.¡±


    Several heads nodded, and a couple of people smiled snidely. Someone from the back said, ¡°The more gold they have, they less they want to see it leave their hand.¡±


    A snicker of laughter erupted.


    Master Investigator coughed into his hand. ¡°When you pick out your workers, be aware ¨C we know someone¡¯s been, well, leaking¡¯s not the actual word I¡¯d like to use for people working for the DIC, but perhaps less security conscious than they need to be. Ears and eyes, whether physical or magical, can be anywhere. And it¡¯s not always greed that gets people to do things they ought not. I trust you because either I or Byrony have worked with you in the past enough to trust you. Make sure the people you pick - ¡±


    ¡°What about him?¡± Yosh Boudin asked, interrupting the Master Investigator gesturing to Haran with a thumb. All eyes focused on Haran, but only Yosh gave the Jinn an angry, suspicious look.


    Haran, to his credit, did not react to Boudin¡¯s attack, merely stood next to Byrony, and crossed his arms, his face remaining calm and placid.


    Boudin continued his complaint. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯ve been working with him long enough to trust him. Why bring in an outsider, to begin with? And one like him? Do you think we can actually trust the White Circle and the Birch not to dig into and try to do something to the Dragonkin?¡±


    ¡°This is not the time for unwarranted paranoia, Yosh,¡± Master Investigator said.


    Byrony stood up tall, and his spikes flared. There was some soft talk among the gathered people, because while Boudin always acted aggressively, with it showing in his spikes all the time, Byrony almost never did.


    ¡°He was one of the people I worked with on the smuggler operation,¡± he said. ¡°I found him to be a good man. He gave us impeccable intelligence, and knew how to run his part of the investigation better than some of us in this room.¡± His eyes were just as angry as Boudin¡¯s and two of the women investigators took a step back. ¡°And he¡¯s vouched for by the two top people in the White Circle. I don¡¯t know where you get the impression that the White Circle is out to get us. Have you been listening to those fools who want us to break our agreement and ship arms to the Shadowlands? The White Circle is out to keep the peace and minimize attacks from those people. They have saved our people more than once. You think I wouldn¡¯t check him out before bringing him on board?¡±


    A small growl came from Boudin, then the investigator took a deep breath and stepped back and gave a curt nod.


    Byrony crossed his arms. ¡°You know me better than that, Yosh. How many years have we worked together? You know how high I rank the security and well-being of all Dragonkin. Don¡¯t you dare call me out on that.¡±


    ¡°True.¡± Boudin nodded.


    ¡°Besides, the leaks don¡¯t seem to be coming from his people,¡± Master Investigator said. ¡°They¡¯re getting information that wouldn¡¯t have come through Ynys Afel sources. Good magical spytools might have tuned into some of it, but Ynys Afel¡¯s not the only people who could have used those. People from Sunderland use things like that all the time ¨C and the details seem to be coming from Dragonkin sources, as close as we¡¯ve been able to discover, when we can discover.¡±


    ¡°But there¡¯s other sources. Talk¡¯s percolating all over Redbeard¡¯s territory,¡± Boudin replied.


    ¡°When doesn¡¯t it? That¡¯s a sea of thieves, ready to jump at the smallest rumor, and ready to feed the rumor train for their own benefit. And that¡¯s just places like Brightwater and Tantis.¡± The Master Investigator picked up his tea mug once more, and looked deep into it. ¡°The smuggling business, and whether or not someone¡¯s trying to bring down Redbeard and his people are just a part of it.¡±


    Bryony nodded. ¡°The situation there doesn¡¯t explain what¡¯s going on in Meridae or in Harani, either.¡±


    ¡°Two physical attacks on Meridae banking houses. Sabotage in one of the top Touchstone production facilities. The production of unlicensed jumpstones,¡± Master Investigator said. ¡°As far as we know, none of the Aos Si people can make them on their own. We¡¯re still trying to trace where they¡¯re coming from. But it has to be from someone with Dragonkin knowhow.¡±


    Byrony nodded. ¡°Whoever it is has been making some effort to make it look like a B&F operation, but when you dig into it, the clues for that disappear -and Briarwood would have way too much to lose doing that.¡±


    ¡°But he¡¯s a sneaky, greedy bastard,¡± Tobris muttered. ¡°He¡¯s got a lot of enemies. People might want to believe it.¡±


    Some heads nodded in agreement.


    ¡°It was the potential B&F connection that got us checking things out, long before Gandaran stirred. It started with people who were doing no space research just disappearing. All of them were non-Dragonkin. Most of them were academics, being financed by people who could be seen as competitors to B&F.¡±


    ¡°The Aos Si have been trying to find ways through no space of their own for centuries,¡± Tobris Slipstone noted. ¡°Once in a while no space accidents happen. That is particularly dangerous for non-Dragonkin, since they have no inherent magic for it.¡±


    ¡°And at first, that¡¯s what we assumed happened,¡± Master Investigator said, nodding. ¡°Still, since we investigate all no space incidents, we logged them and analyzed what we found. And for these incidents, two things became apparent. Normally, there¡¯s a no space accident of this time once every four or five years. Once we went a whole ten years between events. But we had at least seven of these in a three year period. And most of the missing were highly respected, experienced researchers who knew the dangers, and had a history of knowing how to use the proper safeguards. None of these were mad mages, just getting started in research.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know about you,¡± Master Investigator said, before drinking the last of his now cold tea, ¡°but that made my investigator sense tingle.¡± He handed his mug to Byrony, who handed it to Leda Greenslope, who nodded, and went to refill the mug.


    ¡°More than that, on the reports that had any information of what happened leaning up the incident, we discovered a few things. The researchers were all in correspondence to a supposed no space expert out of Harani. There was, of course, no expert by any of the names the researcher knew him by. And the messages all went back to businesses or buildings that had anything to do with no space ¨C a laundry, an alehouse, a bookshop, a dressmaker¡¯s shop, and so on. By the time we reached them, the businesses had been closed down, at least twice by the owner¡¯s passing.¡±


    ¡°That sounds ominous,¡± Boudin said.


    Master Investigator nodded. Greenslope took the moment to hand him his tea. ¡°Thank you,¡± he said and took a sip.


    ¡°Two other commonalities. At least half of the disappeared were visited by a Dragonkin man. He was seen by others, heavily cloaked; one person reported that they thought he was a brown, but he wasn¡¯t sure. This person may have visited them all, but we just don¡¯t know. The third commonality was reports of high level magic, glowing lights, mana streams ¨C a real light show. After the effects calmed down, and the researcher¡¯s frightened families or co-workers discovered them missing. There were traces of mage fire in each room, but no researcher.¡±


    ¡°Magic lightshow sounds like a distraction,¡± Boudin said.


    Master Investigator nodded. ¡°Not long after the disappearances peaked, about three years ago, that¡¯s when we first heard talk about smuggled jumpstones going to the Shadowlands. Once again, rumor was aimed at B&F.¡±


    ¡°They are the big name in jumpstone technology,¡± Lero Bluestone said. ¡°But they aren¡¯t the only ones. Did you know there was a report of three jumpstone developers from Cintas Transports about four years ago? We found the body of one, but not the other two.¡±


    ¡°How -¡± Master Investigator¡¯s eye ridges shot up in surprise. ¡°I never saw that report. He bent over his desk and quickly scribbled a note.


    ¡°And this is why we have assembled this whole team,¡± Byrony said, stepping in while Master Investigator wrote. ¡°What else have we missed? And we still need to weed out the coincidences that have nothing to do with what looks like a plot. Some how a lot of the clues we¡¯re seeing have a Harani connection like the so-called Dragonkin researcher. Perhaps connected is the recent murder of two miners working a freehold on the edge of the Gray Lands. The killer used Blazendraught on one of the Aos Si miners.¡± There were shudders in the room. ¡°It was the same site as an attack several years earlier on a team of researchers who had found an old pre-Sundering artifact. I don¡¯t know if there¡¯s a connection, but that might be the first incident in this chain of events. One of the exploration companies tried to buy it between the two incidents. When I tried to talk with the person who had offered the contract, he refused to show up. And a few days ago, he ended up dead.¡±


    ¡°Something¡¯s going on,¡± Master Investigator said. ¡°Tomorrow, we¡¯ll officially assign you areas to start your work. Today, start assembling people you want to work with, and touch base with Rust about anything that costs. Lero, I want you working on figuring out what you can about the smuggled jump stones that Byrony brought in from the last operation. We need to know where they¡¯re coming from. Tobris, you are our archivist. I¡¯m counting on you to check the records and see if there are anything else, like the missing jumpstone people, we might need to know about, plus whatever research our investigations need.¡±


    She sighed, frowned, and nodded. ¡°Can I have extra staff, too?¡±


    ¡°If they¡¯re trained enough and can be trusted.¡± Master Investigator turned to the rest of them. ¡°So get busy, people! Put together your team. Get ready to investigate!¡±

 Day 14 of the Warming Month, Continued 6

    Chapter 44


    The desert and the forest both have lessons to teach us. Still, it is interesting how so few of us really want to learn the lessons of both. Do you cling to one or the other? Are you willing to learn the lessons of both the winds of Harani and the waters of the White Isle?


    Class Lecture by Linna Applebloom, Chapter Head of the Greenfellows


    It was after the noon hour at the Goblin Market Dragon Web Station.


    This was a quiet time of the day for the workers there ¨C it would be another hour before the next freight shipment would be in, and two before the next passenger carriage. In the DIC office, the main sounds were the rustling of paper and the scratching of pen on paper, and the beads of the calculating table clicking back and forth.


    ¡°What were you thinking of, Waubrin of Meridae, to make such a mess of your invoice paperwork?¡± Umber Madrona said. ¡°Pages out of order, stamps on the wrong sheet?¡±


    It had taken Umber longer than he expected to finish the paper work before his lunch break. He put the last page, properly tabulated and endorsed and sealed, and gave a sigh of relief.


    ¡°I hope Lana can still get away,¡± he said, grabbing the lunch bag he had managed to put together before work. ¡°So much paperwork from this morning! How does such a little place create so many documents?¡±


    He headed out towards the break room. Lana, standing behind a counter with no customers, was drawing with her fingers on the countertop, making invisible patterns. The woman at the station next to her noticed Umber walking in their general direction, and gave Lana a nudge.


    As she looked up, a bright smile touched her face, and her ruff flushed a pretty, happy blue. She waved to her supervisor, who nodded, and she left the counter, grabbing a bundle on her way out. Umber stopped, and watched, his own smile matching Lana¡¯s as she moved.


    Lana hurried up towards the young Dragonkin. ¡°Oh Umber! I was worried that you forgot about lunch!¡±


    ¡°Me forget lunch? Never,¡± Umber said. ¡°It just took me longer than I suspected. ¡°I was afraid you had gone on without me.¡±


    ¡°When I told you I had made something special? No way.¡± She took him by the elbow and pulled him towards the lunch room. ¡°Come on! I want to see what you think about it.¡±


    A bit dazed by her insistence, he let himself be dragged on, much to the amusement of the people at Lana¡¯s work station. The woman who had seen him first waved at the two of them and had a fit of the giggles.


    Inside the room, there were a couple of young Bauchan boys, runners for the people at the message counter, eating their lunch and playing some sort of game.


    ¡°Your move, Trabin,¡± one of them said with a mouth full of whatever he had crammed between two slices of bread. He looked up and gave the couple a glance, then gave his game partner a wicked glance. Neither said anything to either Dragonkin as Umber and Lana walked to the back of their room and took their usual place.


    The table was big enough to hold four, but only had chairs for three. He took the seat on the left, the seat he had used even before Lana had started joining him for lunch. He looked at the table as he dropped his lunch bag on it. Surprisingly it had recently been wiped clean. Umber idly wondered if Lana had come in earlier to prepare it. Wiping the table off was usually the first thing he did, but chose not to mention it.


    ¡°So what did you bring?¡± he asked, as Lana put down her lunch bag. It was certainly larger than any lunch she had brought in the past, three times the size of his little parcel.


    Giving him a shrug and a tease of a grin, she pushed his lunch to the chairless side, where it bumped up against the wall, like it was some undesirable junk left by earlier eaters. Her eyes twinkled with excitement, but her ruff and manners showed just a little anxiety along with her happiness.


    She leaned forward, covering her hand with his. In a soft voice, she said, ¡°Close your eyes.¡±


    ¡°My eyes?¡± he asked. He didn¡¯t know what surprised him more, her touching his hand or her request, but he knew something was making him tingle inside.


    Lena nodded, and pulled her hand back. ¡°Just do this for me. I worked hard on what I brought. I want you to be really surprised.¡±


    He took a deep breath, calming himself, and smiled back, nodding. ¡°I guess I¡¯ll play along, if it makes you happy. I am closing my eyes,¡± he said. ¡°But my curiosity is overwhelming. What could you have brought for lunch that needs this much flair?¡±


    ¡°Humor me,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯ve never done this before. And no peeking.¡±


    Umber couldn¡¯t remember anyone giving him the look she was giving him, at least since he was a child, pleading and playful at the same time. He decided then he liked it, even if it made him feel strange inside. He nodded solemnly and even covered his eyes with his hands to block his vision.


    ¡°This reminds me of what my mom did on my holidays from the creche. I was so glad to be home, wanted to see everybody and run around the house and neighborhood, but she always had a special treat waiting, and made me just sit there, eyes closed, until she put it in front of me.¡±


    ¡°Then you already know it can be worth it to wait,¡± Lana said.


    He could hear her opening her bag, and taking something out, slightly banging it on the table. It sounded like she was fiddling with something, and she made a little growl of frustration. ¡°Now how does this work?¡±


    ¡°Do you need some help?¡± he asked.


    ¡°No, no, no. It¡¯s working now. Just a moment or two more. Patience is one of the best virtues, they used to teach me at the creche school I went. Mistress Landar almost beat that into us every day. I think we tried her patience nearly every day as well.¡± She giggled a little at that.


    ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you were a little terror at school,¡± Umber said. ¡°I would have guessed you were the teacher¡¯s favorite.¡±


    ¡°Some years,¡± she admitted. ¡°Other years, well...¡±


    After a moment, he heard a dish being put in front of him, and another, and another. The smell from it tickled his nose and made his mouth water.


    ¡°Hungry yet?¡± she asked, her voice filled with a laughter she didn¡¯t quite give way to, like she was teasing him.


    ¡°Famished. Can I look yet?¡±


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    ¡°Yes.¡± Suddenly she sounded anxious. ¡°I hope you like it.¡±


    Umber dropped his hands and opened his eyes. In front of him, he saw food of a type he hadn¡¯t seen since the last time he left Harani. There was a hot stew of meat and grain he grew up eating. Masha, they called it back home, rich with spices. Small bits of meat and vegetables floated on its surface Next to that was a dish of fruit and nuts that was traditional to eat with it, and on the third plate, a small stack of flatbreads. In front of them was a touchstone food heater ¨C the device she had been struggling with. A similar selection of food rested in front of her place.


    Lana began to babble. ¡°I hope you like it. I hope I didn¡¯t make it too spicy. I haven¡¯t made it for a while, so if it¡¯s awful -¡±


    ¡°It looks wonderful,¡± Umber said, interrupting her. ¡°I haven¡¯t gotten to eat Masha in so long. It¡¯s one of those things I¡¯ve really missed. I¡¯m not much of a cook and haven¡¯t dared make it myself. Sit down and eat yours, too.¡±


    He grabbed one of the breads and tore it in half, and dipped it into the stew and popped some of it into his mouth. Memories of eating just this dish flooded him, sometimes at home, sometimes in restaurants, even at school. ¡°So good. It¡¯s almost the way my mother makes it. How did you know?¡±


    ¡°Well, you did mention growing up in Harani. I know everybody eats it there. They also eat it in Sunderland and Meridae, although they don¡¯t usually make it as spicy in Meridae. My mother loved it, and made it often. I just figured you¡¯d like some.¡±


    He picked up his spoon. ¡°And you were right. You don¡¯t know how much I¡¯ve missed everything from home.¡±


    ¡°Oh, you might be surprised,¡± she said. ¡°Goblin Market is just so¡­¡±


    ¡°Different? Green? Not home?¡±


    She looked thoughtfully into her bowl as she stirred her stew with her spoon. ¡°I think different is the right word. This is the first place I¡¯ve lived where there were so few Dragonkin. And there are so many Aos Si! It took me some time to get used to it. It¡¯s not that they¡¯re bad people. It¡¯s just¡­¡±


    ¡°Not Dragonkin. They see the world differently. Or anyway, that¡¯s how it feels to me.¡± Umber took another bite of his stew, and let the spicy heat of it soothe him.


    ¡°That. And I miss the dry country. Rock and bare ground that isn¡¯t damp.¡±


    Umber nodded. ¡°I¡¯ve never lived before where there were so many trees.¡±


    ¡°It drove me crazy my first year here. That¡¯s when I started exploring on my days off. I¡¯d just take to the air and fly and fly. And that¡¯s when I found it. My sanctuary.¡±


    ¡°Sanctuary?¡± Umber asked, tearing one of the flatbreads in half.


    ¡°A place where the rocks rise above the forest. It¡¯s not exactly like home, but it¡¯s not like the land here. I¡¯ve never shared it with anybody before, but this is what I want to show you on your day off.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve never?¡±


    She shook her head. ¡°I was saving it for the right person. I think the right person is you.¡±


    Umber looked at her eyes with amazement. ¡°I...I hope so.¡±


    <hr>


    In the Gray Lands, in the secret retreat of Almyra, fifth ray of the sacred star of the Mother of Smoke and Fire, the afternoon was just beginning to wane, although there would be many hours of light left. Violetta looked around the room she had used for the last weeks, at once her sickbed where she fought for life under a deep magical sleep, and where she had slowly recovered, regaining both the strength in her leg and her magic, and learned more secrets of a people she knew nothing about before this journey.


    On the bed lay a pack that contained the one reason why her journey was important and a desert robe of the type that Jinn women were known to wear. The pack was warded with strange Jinn wards that she really didn¡¯t understand, based on their own magic given to them by the Mother, not the methods of the Aos Si or the Dragonkin.


    She put the robe on over her clothes, the clothing type she was wearing when she arrived here ¨C riding boots, trousers, a vest over a long-sleeved shirt. Grabbing the pack, she slung it over her shoulder and looked around the room one more time, seeing if she had left something. Seeing nothing, Violetta stepped out into the garden.


    She stood there for a moment, blinking against the sunlight. ¡°What a small world I¡¯ve been living in since I was bit. Am I really ready to go out into the outer, much bigger world? Back to the root of my childhood, as the Mother said?¡± The thought both excited her, and made her nervous, remembering what she had been told. ¡°A safer harbor to take this burden ¨C what could that be?¡±


    She began walking. This time, instead of looking pale and frail, needing a walking stick, or walking unassisted with a limp, she strode purposefully across the garden paths. Ever since her visit with the Mother of Smoke and Fire, her vitality had been restored to what it was the day she first met Xhindi, or even earlier, and she felt her magic energies even stronger than before. Her particular gift was to sense magic fields, and as she walked, she could feel the presence of the Called even before she rounded the path to where the woman who had overseen her healing was sitting. Today, she seemed a small figure sitting on the bench under the trees, the leaves casting dappled light over her white veil and robes, but Violetta could feel what a empowered giant of a magic user she was as she neared.


    The Called was not alone this time. Standing nearby was her brother Xhindi, watching Violetta move with a pleased grin. At peace with his new orders from the Mother of Smoke and Fire, he too was dressed for travel, cloaked and hooded, and held the leads to two gyphons, already loaded with their personal travel goods. One of the gryphons, her bird¡¯s beak bright orange and head a mottled yellow and gray, tossed that head, calling out a greeting, a high pitched call, more like a the sound of a large hawk than the roar you would expect from some animal as big as a riding gryphon.


    ¡°Oh, Brishi, I¡¯m glad to see you, too,¡± Violetta said, hurrying up to bury her face in its feathered neck. She gave the animal soft, smooth strokes as they reunited. Oddly, the gryphon made something in its throat, a rumble that in a house cat would have been called a purr. With a final stroke, Violetta turned to look at Xhindi, who seemed quite pleased at how the gryphon had reacted. ¡°I¡¯m surprised she remembered me.¡±


    ¡°Ah, Syenah gryphons never forget their riders,¡± Xhindi replied. ¡°You can tell at their reunions what they think of those who rode them before.¡± He moved closer himself, to give Brishi a pat of his own, then when his own mount protested a little, turned back to sooth the big beast. While he soothed the animal, he continued. ¡°Sometimes the reunion is not so peaceable. I saw one man who was hard on his mount almost get torn to pieces when they were reunited after a week apart. It was only through the care of his friends that he wasn¡¯t killed.¡±


    Violetta¡¯s eyes widened, rather shocked. ¡°His mount turned on him? Why?¡±


    ¡°I never did learn all the details, but I heard someone talking about him beating the animal to go beyond its limits. Whatever it was, the gryphon wanted absolutely nothing to do with that rider again. And he never had to. After the two were separated, the gryphon was taken to pasture, to relearn that not all riders were evil. And that man ¨C I don¡¯t know if he ever rode again. He was pretty badly injured. I bet he will walk with a limp the rest of his days.¡±


    ¡°But why? Why did he treat the animal that way?¡±


    Xhindi shrugged. ¡°No telling. Some people forget that animals aren¡¯t machines. But you...Brishi seems very happy to be reunited. You two have formed a real bond. Gryphons don¡¯t purr for just anyone.¡± He gave her a big smile. ¡°That says something, too.¡±


    She nuzzled the animal one more time. ¡°Soon, friend. We¡¯ll be riding again.¡±


    The gryphon crooned softly.


    Violetta walked toward the bench where the Called was sitting. The Called stood up, and smiled.


    ¡°I owe you so much,¡± Violetta said. ¡°I would be dead if not for you. What can I say to someone who saved my life?¡±


    ¡°I helped, but it wasn¡¯t just me,¡± the woman said, inclining her head towards Violetta. ¡°My brother had the wisdom to bring you here, even though it was against some of our strongest traditions. But it was the Mother who saw to it that you became whole again. It is good to see you strong and well, ready to return to your fate, Violetta, blessed of the Lady of Smoke and Fire. I can only see so far ahead, but she tells me what you are charged to do will be of the most importance, and she has given you her blessing to aid you.¡± She took off a crystal which she wore around her neck. ¡°Take this, friend. It is a sending stone. If there is anything we can do, or aid you and your endeavor with, use this to call me. Xhindi will be the Mother¡¯s eyes, but he has lived most of his life in the desert ¨C I suspect you will see things that are outside of his knowledge. And be alert. There are people who don¡¯t know that they are tracking you yet, but they seek what you are carrying.¡± She handed Violetta a small bag. ¡°This might help confuse them a little longer.¡±


    ¡°Illusion dust, Sister?¡± Xhindi asked.


    ¡°Smoke, fire and dust ¨C the gifts of the Mother to all of her children,¡± the Called said, turning to Xhindi. ¡°As for you, brother. You know your task. You are her guardian until her task is finished. The Mother chose you.¡± She closed her eyes a moment. ¡°Your path will take you far from the places you know, but don¡¯t forget us here in the Gray Lands. The Mother is counting on you.¡±


    ¡°I understand, sister. As always, I bow to her wishes.¡± He gave his sister a hug. ¡°We must ride now, or else we won¡¯t make the first campsite before dark.¡±


    She nodded, and made a sign of blessing over the two. ¡°May your way be blessed.¡±


    She turned and headed back to the building.


    ¡°Shall we ride?¡± Xhindi asked.


    Violetta nodded, and mounting, she took a deep breath. ¡°Let¡¯s go!¡±


    And the two headed out of the sacred precinct, where Ashira and the rest of Xhindi¡¯s team awaited them.

 Day 15 of the Warming Month

    Chapter 45


    Greet each morning with kindness, both toward yourself and to those around you. You never know in advance what mysteries, wonders, or adventures might come your way before sunset. Waking up well will help make you ready.


    Life Advice , Glenna Whiterock, First Consul of Harani


    It was sunrise in Willowick, in Sunderland. As sunlight streamed into the roo, and touched his face, Haran woke up. He found himself in an strange bed and sat up quickly, mildly confused for a moment.


    ¡°Where?¡± he said, throwing off the unfamiliar covers, a fine sheet covered by a spread emblazoned with a flying dragon breathing fire. He looked around the room, saw his bag sitting on a chair waiting to be properly unpacked and it came back to him, how at Bryony¡¯s insistence, Rust had found him a small cottage not far from DIC headquarters.


    ¡°That was a pretty wild meeting yesterday. Master Investigator sure allows his underlings a lot of leeway,¡± ha said, stepping up and grabbing his pants. ¡°It¡¯s just so different than how either the Birch or even the Oldest would have handled it. I guess that proves there¡¯s no military organizing behind how they do things. I think the Oldest will be glad to hear that. Somehow, I doubt the Birch will believe it.¡±


    He rummaged through his bag, pulled out a shirt for the day, and put most of the rest of the contents of his bags into the dresser that dominated one wall of the room. There was a washstand in one corner with fresh towels hanging next to it. He washed up, got dressed, and was looking for a tea kettle in the little kitchen in the cottage when there was a knock at the door.


    It was Bryony.


    ¡°You¡¯re here mighty early,¡± Haran said, rubbing the back of his head.


    The Dragonkin shrugged. ¡°I thought you might find being alone in a strange city surrounded by people who aren¡¯t Aos Si or Jinn might be a bit...uncomfortable on the first day. So I decided to drop by early. Plus,¡± he said, holding up a bag, ¡°I brought some breakfast.¡±


    Haran let him in. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t happen to have any tea in that bag, would you?¡±


    ¡°Man after my own heart,¡± Bryony said. ¡°Alas, no, but I know where they keep the tea making things here,¡± he replied.


    ¡°My savior,¡± Haran said, and the two moved into the kitchen.


    After a quick meal of egg muffins, a local speciality, the two men relaxed with their second cup of tea.


    ¡°So what¡¯s going to happen today?¡± Haran asked.


    ¡°I think the plan is to put lead investigators in charge of filtering through the different areas we have suspicions on, with you and I keeping an overview of everything.¡±


    ¡°Are the meetings always as lively as the one yesterday?¡± Haran picked up his tea mug.


    ¡°Well, we are all top in our fields and allowed a lot of freedom,¡± Byrony said. ¡°It¡¯s different for your people?¡±


    ¡°Well, we have a lot of military influence, I guess. The White Circle isn¡¯t exactly military, although we work with the King¡¯s Guard a lot, and train the people who use military magic. Hierarchy and chain of command and all that, and it works well with the type of magic we teach. It¡¯s not true for everybody on the White Island. You should hear some of the raucous noise that comes out of the Alder Branches and the Goosequills.¡±


    Byrony sipped his tea. ¡°And we are a people who are given to a high degree of individual action. Autonomy to the point of destruction, sometimes, if greed gets involved, which is probably behind our current crisis.¡± He shrugged. ¡°All peoples have their ways.¡±


    Finishing their tea, the two men headed for DIC headquarters.


    <hr>


    On the White Island, a new school session had started on the grounds of the White Circle chapter house, and the grounds were filled with new fresh faces that were both full of excitement and nervousness. As her custom, the Oldest sat beneath a spreading maple tree where three paths met, to greet and help the lost, the confused, and the overwhelmed.


    A large map of the grounds lay on the table in front of her, with each of the buildings, gardens and other structures the school used indicated on them. A small group of aides, mostly year two students, clustered nearby, chatting and sitting on a low stone wall, waiting to guide students to their proper location.


    A young redheaded girl, barely old enough to be at the white circle walked up shyly up to the table, wearing the white robe of her school uniform a little awkwardly. She hiked a bit of the fabric up through her belt, where it had been dragging in the back.


    ¡°Excuse me, ma¡¯am,¡± she said in an anxious, tiny voice. ¡°Can you help me?¡± She looked down at a paper she was clutching in her hand. ¡°I¡¯m supposed to be with Mistress Enide¡¯s class, but I can¡¯t figure out where she¡¯s meeting.¡±


    The Oldest was about to say something, but Arriane, who had been sitting next to the older woman, stood up. She gave the girl a bright smile.


    ¡°You¡¯re almost there!¡± Arriane said. ¡°Look!¡± She pointed to a gate in the stone wall. Beyond it, a group of White Circle students were sitting out of doors in the open meadow the wall enclosed. All of them were young people, barely out of their secondary schools, full of fresh new eyes, a little excitement, and at least a touch of adolescent silliness. Six of the students were female, four of them were male. Two of the students were Bauchan, one was surprisingly a Hyter, one of the bird shapeshifting people, with shimmering red feathers in lieu of hair.


    ¡°Thank you, ma¡¯am,¡± the redhead said, then ran to join them.


    ¡°So,¡± Arriane said, turning back to the Oldest, but not yet sitting down, ¡°one thing I always wanted to know. Why do you come out here every new term? There are plenty of other people who could give newcomers directions, or find out whose class they¡¯re in, or deal with first day disasters. Why you?¡±


    The Oldest gave her student a large smile of her own. ¡°Well on the first day, almost none of the students know who I am. We haven¡¯t had our big welcoming party where I get to interrupt the food and drink and conversations and hijinks of the first year students by getting up in front of them and make my boring ¡°Welcome to the White Circle¡± speech.¡±


    ¡°It is not boring,¡± said Sammisa, who sat in a chair next to the Oldest. She pushed a lock of green hair out of her face.


    ¡°It is when you¡¯ve given it as often as I have,¡± the Oldest rebutted.


    Arriane laughed at that. ¡°I know I wasn¡¯t bored. I was excited by everything, being here, being able to study something I wanted to learn for the first time, and by not being in the Alder Branch¡¯s school. I was just another student, not the Lady Arriane, and it all felt like freedom to me.¡±


    ¡°But you also got lost your first day,¡± the Oldest replied.


    ¡°Yes, I did. And a kind woman helped me figure out where to go.¡±


    ¡°And more than that, I like to see the students act without artificial constraints. Sometimes, I can tell when a person is particularly gifted or might not be a good fit for our school.¡±


    ¡°Sometimes, when we¡¯re busy dealing with all the other things we¡¯re dealing with,¡± Sammisa said, helping herself to one of the sweet cakes that Ethne had left behind when he set up before the school day began, ¡°I forget we¡¯re also a school. And we have been so busy with the other things.¡±


    ¡°We are first and foremost a school. Actually more than one school,¡± the Oldest said. ¡°Preparing each generation to cope with living in our world has long been my first goal, ever since the Sundering. So many things to prepare for, to learn, to deal with. Where would we be if we didn¡¯t bring the young along with us?¡±


    ¡°A good point,¡± Arriane said, nodding.


    As the three women watched, Enide, one of the White Circle¡¯s inner circle closest to the Oldest, and also one of the instructors of new students walked across the yard to the gate to the meadow.


    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    She was a small woman, with long gray hair even though her face was young. Unlike the young students, and most of the staff who were dressed in identical white robes marked with a white circle outlined in blue, the mark of their school, she wore a robe of fine gray silk, with a white tabard, her hair and her clothing a mark of her Silkie heritage. She walked purposefully, although she did look lost in thought, her gray-blue eyes focused somewhere far away.


    ¡°I have to watch this,¡± Arriane said, and walked up to the wall, sitting on it not far from where the aides were waiting.


    Enide moved to where the group of young people were sitting. Evidently, at first they didn¡¯t realize she was their instructor, and they continued chatting among themselves. She coughed.


    ¡°May we help you?¡± asked one of the students, a blond boy who was obviously Daoine.


    The Silkie looked at the gathered students. ¡°I am Mistress Enide, your instructor in Basic Magic Studies.¡±


    The students looked at her with various reactions ¨C surprise, consternation, pleasure.


    ¡°But she¡¯s just a Silkie,¡± one of the boys whispered.


    Enide heard that remark. ¡°Yes, I am a Silkie, and a member of the Inner White Circle. It will be my role to guide you on the first step of your studies. Here in the White Circle we honor ability, not race.¡±


    She walked around the group of students, taking each one in as she walked, fixing their look, and maybe something deeper as she circled around.


    At the wall, Sammisa joined an amused Arriane who was watching the Silkie with close attention.


    ¡°They don¡¯t understand her abilities,¡± Sammisa said. ¡°I know better than to get on her wrong side.¡±


    Arriane nodded in agreement. ¡°She was my first teacher here, too. Better to watch it from here than to be in the class learning for the first time!¡±


    Sammisa laughed.


    Enid finished her circling around the group of students.


    ¡°Let us begin today¡¯s lesson with a review of some basics, which we will then build from. Each one of you has a center of magic inside of you,¡± she said. Her voice, as always, was soft, but held a note of iron in it. ¡°It is your heritage, passed down from the Lifegiver at the beginning of it all.¡±


    ¡°We learned that in elementary school,¡± one of the boys in the class said. ¡°Didn¡¯t we come here to learn more than that?¡± He pushed a lock of red hair out of his forehead. A girl sitting next to him covered her mouth with her hand while she snickered.


    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m sure you did, Jassin,¡± Enide said, without a change of expression. ¡°And yes, you shall learn more than this while you are here.¡±


    She raised her hand, blew on her fingertips, and a glowing ball of gray light arose from them, drifted over to Jassin, and then, expanding, enveloped him in a large ball. He touched the wall of the light. Sparks flew where his fingers touched the light. Evidently, he called out with pain, but no sound passed the barrier.


    Several of the students moved away from where he sat.


    ¡°Now, to continue. Student Jassin¡¯s barrier will evaporate in about a quarter of an hour. He can hear all we say, but his questions as regarding the suitability of my presentation will be blocked until the end of that time.¡±


    A very soft murmur went through the group, and more than one nod.


    ¡°As I was explaining, you all have inherent magic, given to you as your heritage. Some of you have learned to use aspects of it, some more than others. The basis of the White Circle¡¯s education is to teach you to learn how to tap into it through hard work, knowledge and discipline, and then focus it to work with you or others to accomplish things, without the use of tools or touchstones.¡± A couple of the students squirmed when she said hard work. ¡°When you have finished your studies here, you will be prepared to go into higher studies, perhaps here at the White Circle, or working with the Magic Guard, or any of the other disciplines you might choose to follow ¨C but whatever path you take, you will have a foundation in using your magic in ways that many other of the Aos Si will not have.¡±


    She looked at each of the faces of her students. ¡°This is not the place to play, or mock or do anything but learn. The school provides plenty of time for that. But when we are together, we work.¡±


    Several pairs of eyes glanced at Jassin and a couple of the other students.


    Enide continued. ¡°We are here in this meadow to begin our exploration on purpose. Your magic connects you to the world, and the world is the source of the energy that feeds your magic. Today we will begin a series of exercises to help you heighten your awareness of this.¡±


    Arriane kicked her feet on the stone wall she was still sitting on and snickered a little when Jassin was encased in Enide¡¯s barrier bubble.


    ¡°Does that bring back memories?¡± Sammisa asked.


    ¡°Oh yes. After the first day or two, we were all terrified of Enide. In my class, it was three students who got put in the barrier.¡± She turned her back to look at Sammisa, who looked back at her, amused. ¡°We were all amazed how such a soft voiced little woman could have such a will of iron and who spared none of us when we acted up.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s Silkies for you,¡± Sammisa said, nodding. ¡°They look soft and shimmery, but once they have a job to do, they make sure it¡¯s done. And Enide is great with first year students. I tried for awhile, but I¡¯m too easy, and my classes were always getting out of hand. It can take something hard to get kids fresh out of school to settle down and turn towards their adult selves.¡±


    The Oldest walked up to join her two companions. She touched the Lake woman¡¯s shoulder. ¡°I seem to remember your first year, Sammisa,¡± she said. ¡°Arash was doing the first years then.¡±


    ¡°Ah, don¡¯t remind me!¡± the Lake woman said. ¡°Sometimes I swear he grins at me like he remembers what a silly little thing I was back then.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s possible,¡± the Oldest said, nodding. ¡°But he thinks of you fondly, like a daughter. You should be pleased. He doesn¡¯t take to everybody.¡±


    ¡°If you say so,¡± Sammisa said, nodding. ¡°We have generally worked well together.¡±


    The Oldest gave Enide one last look. The Selkie had gotten her students to sit in a circle, with eyes closed, the first position in learning to draw earth magic. She returned to her chair, followed by the two women. She picked up her now cold tea, and drank some of it any way.


    ¡°So tell me, Youngest,¡± she said, turning to Arriane, ¡°how long are you here for? I was rather surprised how quickly you returned.¡±


    ¡°Well, Gweir came home for the first time in months. I thought I¡¯d get out of the way for a little while. I would have brought Tam with me, too, to visit his grandmother, but Elaine wouldn¡¯t hear of it.¡± She shrugged. ¡°He¡¯ll be home for a couple of weeks. And Gan and I are supposed to start our studies about then, so I guess I¡¯ll be here another ten days?¡±


    The Oldest nodded. ¡°That¡¯s kind of you.¡± A student came up, and looked at the map on the Oldest¡¯s table.


    ¡°Sorry, ma¡¯am,¡± the young man said. He was slight, blonde, and had the beginnings of a scraggly young man¡¯s beard beginning to come in, and stared at his feet while he talked. Carrying a bag over one shoulder, he fumbled in it for just the right paper, and half a dozen things fell out and hit the ground.


    ¡°Sorry, sorry, sorry,¡± he said, bending to pick them up. Luckily, one of the papers on the ground was just the one he was looking for. ¡°I am looking for¡­¡± He stared at the paper, as if he were having trouble making sense of the writing on it. ¡°Master Arash. Do you know, please, where I can find him?¡±


    ¡°Of course!¡± the Oldest said. She looked at the group of aides. ¡°Sisi, if I can have a moment of your time?¡±


    One of the aides looked, up, a kind faced, short girl with big ears and brown eyes, pure-bred Bauchan. She gave the Oldest a nod, and hurried to the table.


    ¡°Yes, Mistress?¡± the girl asked.


    ¡°Take this young man -¡± the Oldest started.


    ¡°Harit. Harit Mossbourne,¡± he said, then flushed at his audacity of giving his name, and dropped his eyes again.


    The Oldest gave him a benevolent smile, and nodded. ¡°Take Student Mossbourne to Master Arash. He should be over at the Green Pavillion.¡±


    The girl nodded, and gave the young man a big smile of her own. ¡°Come on, Mossbourne. Let me tell you, when I first got here I got lost all the time. Don¡¯t feel bad about it.¡± The two young people walked off, leaving the three women alone.


    ¡°So tell me your impressions about Gan Thistleberry,¡± the Oldest said to Arriane.


    ¡°She is very kind, I believe. Most people who have contact with her seem to find her a positive thing. I¡¯ve never seen anybody who gets along with Pixies the way she does. There are always at least a small group of ten who follow her around all the time.¡±


    ¡°Pixies? She lives with them, in the same house?¡± Sammisa asked. ¡°How does she get any rest?¡± She snagged another one of Ethne¡¯s sweet cakes, and snaps it in half. ¡°I¡¯ve always found pixies to be so...inane, silly, in everything they shouldn¡¯t be¡­¡±


    Arriane shrugged. ¡°She shares food with them every day, talks with them, and, outside of her bed chamber, which she¡¯s warded off, they have the free run of the place. She told me it¡¯s like when she was the headmistress of the younger grades at the school. Small children are always often silly and inane, and ask odd questions, don¡¯t they?¡±


    ¡°True,¡± the Oldest nodded. ¡°And Pixies are as innocent as young children usually are, with little malice, and anger that blows up like a thunderstorm and blows away just as quickly.¡±


    ¡°She has made friends with Cullin the Tree Shepherd, or at least he has come to visit her a few times without any problems.¡± Arriane put her tea cup on a touchstone heater and activated it. ¡°Also, Leila, a nymph who lives in Cullin¡¯s forest, has befriended her. They evidently share similar tastes in books, from what I am able to learn.¡± Taking her cup off the heater, she sipped it. ¡°Ah, just right.¡±


    ¡°I am familiar with Leila,¡± the Oldest said, nodding. ¡°She has been Cullin¡¯s...companion would be the wrong word. Adviser? Assistant? Anyway, she has been there a long time. I hear she is very good at reading the hearts of people she meets. The fact that she and Gan have become friends says a lot. The fact your sister is so fond of her also says a lot.¡±


    ¡°Do you still think she might be the person the Brightening Day prophecy talked about?¡± Sammisa asked.


    The Oldest took a deep breath. ¡°She seems to fit the foretelling. A scholar with no school. Surrounded by a cloud of innocents. And she knows people who have been caught up with the situation that we are investigating, Master Gwaher to start with. And she¡¯s connected through Elaine to Gwair, who has gotten drafted into the response. And you, too, Arriane, even if you don¡¯t think you¡¯re part of what¡¯s going on. And now, I have word that yet another school friend of hers, who worked for Briarwood and Flysch, doing work on jumpstones for them, has gone missing.¡± The Oldest drank the last of her tea. ¡°Is she at the center of something yet to unfold? We will have to wait for things to unfold. But it¡¯s possible, what she is being fated for might have nothing to do with that.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the thing with prophecies,¡± Sammisa said. ¡°You really don¡¯t know what¡¯s going on until it¡¯s fulfilled.¡±


    ¡°Very true,¡± the Oldest said, nodding.


    ¡°Well, I put a couple of watch wards on the edge of the farm where she lives,¡± Arriane said. ¡°And I encouraged Elaine to have a young man go daily to the property to be a handyman. I just thought it would be better if she wasn¡¯t left with nothing but Pixies in case of emergency.¡±


    The Oldest nodded. ¡°And I¡¯ve asked Cullin to keep an eye on her. We don¡¯t dare do any more. We certainly shouldn¡¯t tell her we suspect she was caught up in a prophecy from the Well of Fate. I guess we just have to be patient.¡±


    She stood up. ¡°I need some hot tea. Shall we go find Ethne?¡± Motioning to one of the aides to man the information table first, she led the three women back to the chapter house.

 Day 15 of the Warming Month, Continued

    Chapter 46


    The heart of every organization, every operation, every business, every community isn¡¯t its wealth or technology or location, even though a lot of people think so. The true heart is its people. Mix the wrong people together, disaster. Put the right people in, and new opportunities, new insights, new solutions, new success is sure to follow.


    Advice to the Young   - Flysch Graben, cofounder of Briarwood and Flysch


    Byrony and Haran entered the war room at DIC headquarters. As early as it was, the room was already filling up, and there were a number of new faces. A few people waved, but mostly they clustered in small groups around some of the people who had been there yesterday.


    Yosh Boudin, in a deep talk with two people Haran hadn¡¯t met yet, leaning over one of the tables and looking at some files he had scattered out over them. As the door closed behind Haran, he stopped pointing at something that had caught his interrest and looked up at the two.


    ¡°Yo, Byrony. Not used to seeing you out and about this early.¡± He waved and nodded, but there was just a touch of mockery in his voice. ¡°Been here for an hour already.¡±


    ¡°Some folks like to bite the sunrise,¡± Byrony replied. I see you brought in Mossbourne and Greenburn. How¡¯d you get Rashing to let go on such short notice?¡±


    Yosh gave Byrony a wicked smile, and crossed his arms.


    ¡°Team Leader Boudin has some...special techniques,¡± Harit Mossbourne said. He like most of the other people there was a typical smallish gray dragonkin. Like most of them here, he had an official jacket slung over his chest, unbuttoned. Underneath it was a shirt of such intense yellow it almost hurt the eyes. There was a note of hero worship about him, and he looked at Yosh, and his spiked glowed with a bit of admiration. ¡°It was rather impressive.¡±


    ¡°I bet it was,¡± Byrony muttered. Louder he asked, ¡°Is the big man here yet?¡±


    ¡°Not yet,¡± Yosh said. His tone wasn¡¯t quite approving. ¡°He doesn¡¯t like to ¡®bite the sun¡¯ as you put it, either.¡±


    ¡°Sounds like I¡¯ve got time for tea then,¡± Byrony said.


    ¡°The DIC runs on tea,¡± Mossbourne said, lifting his mug.


    Byrony nodded. ¡°Yes it does. Come on, Haran, let¡¯s go get some while the getting is good.¡± He waved the Jinn over towards the tea service.


    ¡°People must have been busy yesterday evening,¡± Byrony said as they walked to the tea service. He grabbed a mug off the counter, and began to fill his cup. ¡°Netted a bunch of warm bodies.¡±


    Haran looked around the room and counted at least seven people that weren¡¯t there the day before, then picked up a cup himself. ¡°Your people work fast.¡±


    ¡°We can, sometimes. Sometimes, like on that murder investigation I did in the Gray Lands right before our operation with the smugglers, it looked like a third of the DIC folk who aren¡¯t on Dragon Web duties came out.¡±


    ¡°You have that much freedom of action?¡± Haran asked. ¡°You can just go and work on any job?¡±


    ¡°Not usually, but sometimes calls go out on higher priority.¡± Byrony took a sip of his tea, then headed to the area near the Master Investigator¡¯s office. He waved at Rust, who was already busy with her account books as they walked. Administrators who aren¡¯t actively using a person who gets requested on another high priority activity are supposed to let them go. And if the call¡¯s at the highest call, everybody swarms to the person requesting help.¡±


    ¡°Seems an odd way of doing things to me. We¡¯re a bit more orderly over on the White Isle. But if it works for you¡­¡± Haran shrugs.


    ¡°Differences between the Aos Si and the Dragonkin,¡± Byrony said, nodding. ¡°We see the world a little differently than you do. The one thing that keeps it all in check is the Logistics office. When Investigators get on the trail, we tend to forget about how pricey some of this gets. The Logistics officer puts the only real boundaries on what we can do, but we never cross that line. Costs and coin matter a lot to the Dragonkin. A lot less to investigators than most of our people, but we still respect it.¡±


    ¡°If you say so,¡± Haran said. ¡°Sounds good that you have some limits. And that you don¡¯t have to go beg your superiors to take you seriously when it¡¯s time to get some resources.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that can happen, too, if nobody¡¯s put an emergency call out. Local people have their budget limits, too.¡±


    ¡°And for good reasons,¡± Master Investigator said, walking up to the two men sitting in front of his office. ¡°I see you got here early this morning, Byrony. Good to see.¡± He opened his office door. ¡°Come in. I want to get started right away.¡±


    Haran and Byrony exchanged glances, and followed him in. There was a stack of files on the desk in the room.


    ¡°Take a look at these assignments. This is how I was I was thinking about dividing out people up,¡± Master Investigator said.


    ¡°You want my imput?¡± Byrony said, somewhat surprised.


    ¡°Of course I do,¡± Master Investigator said, handing the papers to the younger dragonkin. Byrony put his tea mug down on the desk and began to thumb through them. While Byrony scanned through the files, Master Investigator went to his private tea service.


    ¡°Rowan Whiteslate working on the smuggler connection down by Brightwater.¡± Bryony scratched his head. ¡°An interesting choice.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s good at co-opting people to turn over information. He won¡¯t be doing it alone. I¡¯ve already called up Rastan Bluevein to give him some muscle.¡±


    ¡°Good idea,¡± Byrony said, nodding. ¡°They¡¯ve worked well together in the past.¡±


    Master Investigator added water to his tea. Haran noticed he used less water than Byrony, which for some reason added to his positive impression of the head of DIC. Seeing that Byrony¡¯s review was going to take a while, he sat down, pulled out his notebook and pencil.


    ¡°Leda Greenslope and Maurin Edgewood on sourcing the jumpstones we found? And not Lero?¡± Byrony frowned. He grabbed a chair and sat down next to his mug. Laying the papers down, he picked up his own tea. ¡°I thought that would be a natural mix.¡± He drank a sip.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    Outside of the office, loud voices could be heard, even if the words were muffled. Master Investigator ignored it for the moment. ¡°I have another role for him. He¡¯s so good at all the magic tech we use, I think it might be better to hold him in reserve for things that come up.¡±


    ¡°Maybe so,¡± Byrony said. He took a sip of his tea. ¡°He is the best I¡¯ve ever met.¡±


    ¡°Charbon Exter and Grab Torvra on the attacks on the Financials. Charbon is from Meridae. That might be useful.¡±


    Master Investigator nodded as he sat down at his desk with his tea. ¡°And he has relatives in the Financial district. It might open some doors.¡±


    Byrony was near the end of the stack. ¡°Asper Bloodstone and Balston Mullin on the missing persons. That sounds good,¡± he said. ¡°Asper is very thorough, turning ever stone over three times before he lets things go. And all of these are cold cases. It¡¯ll take some attention even to find crumbs.¡±


    ¡°And his eyes are fresh,¡± Master Investigator said. ¡°He hasn¡¯t worked on any of these cases before.¡±


    ¡°A good point,¡± Byrony said. He took a sip of his tea, and took a deep breath before opening the last file. ¡°So you want Yosh to work on the Harani connection?¡± His voice was uncertain, maybe disapproving.


    ¡°I knew you were working on this, before I yanked you to do the operation with the White Circle and the Birch. But I thought, maybe after how people were reacting to you...maybe Yosh¡¯s way mixed with Harit¡¯s calmness might stir up something.¡±


    ¡°So what am I supposed to do?¡± Byrony asked, not quite convinced.


    ¡°Ride herd on all of these people. Make sure they¡¯re really working, and not just soaking up resources. Kick them in the butt if they need it, reward them if you think it¡¯ll help. Then report what they¡¯re doing, and how, to me.¡± Master Investigator looked at his second, who was steeling his face, but obviously felt less than happy with his new assignment. ¡°And I¡¯ll handle the political side. Be glad you don¡¯t have to go report to Grimsbeard and the council. If you did, you¡¯d realize that I gave you the easier job.¡±


    ¡°You sure you didn¡¯t give me this job because you didn¡¯t want to work with Yosh?¡± Byrony said, rubbing his hand across his forehead.


    A loud voice pierced through the door. ¡°Better get out there before Yosh drives everybody into early retirement,¡± Master Investigator said. ¡°And if I were you, I¡¯d ship him off to Harani as fast as possible.¡±


    ¡°Good idea,¡± Byrony said. Reluctantly, he stood up.


    <hr>


    It was early still at Pixie Hollow, but not too early for Rob, who had been working with the animals for the last hour.


    He walked into the house carrying a pail of goat¡¯s milk. Gan was putting loaves of bread in the bake oven. Arne was sitting on the rafters. Somehow he had gotten dusted with flour and Moxie was looking up at him and laughing from where she sat on the table.


    Dahlia flew up to the young farm hand. ¡°Oooh, milk. I love milk. Can I have some?¡±


    ¡°Uh¡­¡± Rob said, surprised by her interest. ¡°Maybe we should ask Mistress Gan first.¡±


    ¡°You can have some when we eat,¡± Gan said, closing the bake oven door.


    ¡°But then it won¡¯t be fresh!¡± the little Pixie woman said, pouting.


    ¡°Yes it will be,¡± Gan said. She drew a sign in the air, and the pail began to glow whitely. Soon it grew frosty. ¡°Just set it on the counter, Rob. I¡¯ll get it filtered when I have a moment to spare.¡±


    She sat down on her favorite chair. ¡°How long will it take that cart and Betts to get to Goblin Market? I¡¯m getting low on some things.¡±


    ¡°Probably about an hour and a half. Do you want me to harness her up?¡±


    ¡°After the bread is done,¡± she said. ¡°That¡¯ll give me time to make a list.¡±


    About an hour later, Rob brought the cart around. ¡°Would you like me to drive it?¡±


    ¡°You sure you don¡¯t mind?¡±


    ¡°Mind taking Betts out for a drive?¡± he said, chuckling. ¡°Never.


    Gan climbed up and together, they pulled out.


    As they turned onto the King¡¯s Highway, Gan asked Rob,¡°So tell me again, why the town is called Goblin Market? When I passed through there, I didn¡¯t see any any Goblins at all.¡±


    ¡°Nobody has the true story, because nobody wrote it down,¡± Rob said. ¡°Anyway, that¡¯s what Lady Elaine told me. I can only tell you what my grandfather told me.¡±


    ¡°Well, tell away,¡± Gan said. ¡°I don¡¯t have much to do until we get there.¡±


    Rob nodded. ¡°Well, according to my grandfather, once upon a time, not long after the Sundering, people coming up the road had no place to stop on the road between Meridae and Waterford by Glint. Oh, people would stop by Redrock to drink from the spring, and camp out, but a place to rest and eat? None.


    ¡°There was an enterprising Goblin who noticed this. My grandfather said his name was Sanders Bluehair, the father of a large family. He had built a hut right near the road, but really hadn¡¯t paid much attention to the people who came and went on their own business. And many people were more than willing to ignore him and his brood in return. You know how the Daoine tend to look down at Goblinkind.¡±


    ¡°Goblins are ugly,¡± said a little voice.


    Gan looked down to see Rosebud sitting on her bag, stretching in a luxurious yawn.


    ¡°How did you get here?¡± Gan asked. ¡°I thought I told all the Pixies to stay home and wait until I got back.¡±


    ¡°You did?¡± Rosebud asked. ¡°I¡¯ve been asleep for hours. I found this lovely cloth cave this morning when everybody was arguing about what type of bread was best. I curled up in it and went right to sleep.¡± She looked around. ¡°Where are we? And why is the land moving?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re on our way to Goblin Market,¡± Gan said, frowning at the tiny woman, who seemed to ignore Gan¡¯s disapproval. ¡°And that wasn¡¯t a cave made out of cloth. That¡¯s my travel bag you crawled into. You¡¯re lucky you didn¡¯t get hit by all the things I put in it before we left the house. If you want to get home in one piece without getting lost, you better stay near.¡±


    ¡°I just found a nice dark pocket,¡± Rosebud said. ¡°It was so much better than listening to Arne brag about being the best judge of bread types and Moxie telling him how wrong he was. And then Dahlia swept it, and it got so loud. I just had to get away from it all.¡± She yawned, then looked up at Rob. ¡°You are telling a story?¡±


    ¡°I was trying to, before being disturbed by a sleepy stowaway Pixie.¡± Rob looked down at the little woman and sighed. For some reason, that made Rosebud blush, and she fluttered up to Gan¡¯s shoulder and hid herself in the woman¡¯s neck.


    ¡°Now, if I can get back to it,¡± Rob began. ¡°One day, a traveler came by his campsite, and offered to buy a bowl of stew off the Goblin right before he and his family sat down for dinner. During the meal, Bluehair heard the story of how hard it was for travelers, with no inn, no tavern, no good food to be had between Waterford and Meridae.


    ¡°After the traveler left, Bluehair had a long talk with his wife Samsi, and then sent word to his three brothers and their families. Together, they began building, and before you could snap your fingers, they had built a tavern and a stable. The three brothers put up a large sign that read Goblin¡¯s Rest, and soon they had some regular trade. One of the brothers was a decent blacksmith of horseshoes and related things, and the other brother set up a shop to sell useful items for travelers. The fame of Samsi¡¯s pies and stew and sausages began to spread, and travelers began to stop on a regular basis.¡±


    ¡°A Bauchan man who had left his home behind under circumstances he¡¯d never explain set up near the Goblins as a wheelwright. The three Goblin brothers got into a fight over profits, and the one who ran the store sold out to another Bauchan, a merchant, who quickly enlarged the little store and added more stuff for sale. This was the ancestor of Mayor Turbot, which may be why his is the richest family in the area. A clurichaun moved in next and set up a brewery which was much better than the brew that the Goblins were making. A shoemaker showed up, and then a toymaker.


    ¡°By the time there were 20 households living there, the Mistress of Allynwood decided to set up a weekly market there, since it was close to most of the Allynwood villages. And that¡¯s why it went from the Goblin¡¯s Rest to Goblin Market. And so it has been ever since.¡±


    ¡°What happened to the Goblins?¡± Rosebud asked.


    ¡°Oh, Bluehair finally made enough money that he sold the tavern which had become an inn by that time to a fine family of Ellyllon who took it over, and their family still runs the main inn. It¡¯s still called Goblin¡¯s Rest, even after all these years. Bluehair, it¡¯s said, took his wife and children and moved into the hills near Whitecross, where they still live today.¡±


    ¡°Well it¡¯s certainly more than twenty households now,¡± Gan said.


    ¡°That¡¯s what happens when you become the market town,¡± Rob said. Turbot¡¯s not the only rich man there.¡±


    ¡°Is it a pretty place?¡± Rosebud asked. ¡°Are there lots of flowers?¡±


    ¡°More like lots of horse apples,¡± Rob said. ¡°I won¡¯t go there any more than I have to.¡±


    The little Pixie looked deflated. ¡°I was hoping it was pretty.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t feel sad,¡± Gan said. ¡°That¡¯s where Leila gets her sugar cookies from.¡±


    ¡°Cookies?¡± Rosebud said, immediately perking back up.


    ¡°And yes, we¡¯ll bring some back.¡±


    Rosebud gave Gan the biggest smile. ¡°Moxie will be so jealous!¡±

 Day 15 of the Warming Month, Continued 2

    Chapter 47


    When you¡¯re at an impasse, and the trail is going cold, bring in someone new. They can sometimes see clues everybody¡¯s been overlooking because familiarity obscures the oddly colored stone that breaks open the case.


    - DIC manual


    Byrony came out of the Master Investigator¡¯s office, with Haran trailing behind. The human seemed calm and curious, while the spikes on the head of the usually calm dragonkin were cycling between the colors of anxiety and fire. Those who had known Byrony for any length of time knew that that was not a good sign. At least he was keeping his wings from fluttering. If that had been happening, a few of the people might have run for the exit.


    ¡°Would...would you like some more tea? I can get some spice from Tansy if you think it¡¯d help,¡± Rust said.


    Byrony shook his head. ¡°No tea. I just finished a cup. Just give me a few minutes. Everything will be all right.¡±


    Yosh walked up to him, and dialed back some of his assertiveness. ¡°So when¡¯s the old man coming out to tell us what¡¯s what?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s not,¡± Byrony said, shuffling through his files.


    ¡°He¡¯s not?¡± Yosh asked, surprised. ¡°Then how are we supposed to know what to do next?¡±


    ¡°It seems I¡¯ve been designated as working team leader,¡± Byrony said.


    A murmur went through the gathered investigators. Yosh gave him a hard look and crossed his arms. ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡±


    ¡°It means the Master Investigator tells me things, and I come out here, tell you what he wants you to do, make sure you have what you need to do it, solve what problems need to be solved, and in return, you pass your reports of what you¡¯ve managed to come up with and anything else you need to tell me, then I go to Master Investigator, and let him know. And in return, he takes all this and goes and fights with Grimsbeard and the council so you don¡¯t have to.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯re our creche keeper.¡± A smile began to creep over Yosh¡¯s face. It wasn¡¯t a pleasant one. ¡°Are you going to tell us a story?¡±


    ¡°No. You¡¯re going to be telling me one.¡± He opened a file. ¡°You, Yosh, you and Harit are to head to Harani and the Gray Lands to see if you can turn up anything about the murders, the death of the Zefed Drumlin of Sinter Acquisitions and any connection between that and the attack a few years ago on Xendo¡¯s Freehold.¡±


    Yosh grabbed the file out of Byrony¡¯s hand. ¡°Excellent.¡±


    ¡°Let Rust know whoever else you want to bring in on the investigation. You might want to start small and build up. And be sure to bring desert gear. Look up Albite Hessin when you get to Runi Blahn. He¡¯s too good to be at an out-of-the way Dragon Web station.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah.¡± Yosh waved to Harit. ¡°Let¡¯s go make a list.¡±


    The two men ducked into a side office.


    He gave the team of Rowan and Rastin their assignment to Brightwater, and Charbon and Grab to Meridae first, and any other place the Financial trails would lead them. Charbon, too, was rather pleased at the assignment. Maurin and Leda, knowing they would be used in some way that took advantage of their technical skills were both content with their work on sourcing the jumpstones.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been wanting to take one of these things apart for a long time now,¡± Maurin said, with a glee that only people who like to reverse engineer get. ¡°Are there extras?¡±


    ¡°A whole case of them. But save some,¡± Byrony said. ¡°We need them as evidence.¡±


    Maurin nodded.


    ¡°You do know they are mostly magic conduits, like touchstones,¡± his partner Leda said. The two began to walk back to a room marked ¡°Research Workroom One.¡±


    ¡°Yes, but we have tools that will show us a lot about it,¡± Maurin said. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s figure out what¡¯ll be useful. And do you think Deira Brashton might be willing to join us?¡±


    ¡°Master Investigator seems to know his people well by the way the assignments have gone,¡± Haran noted, nodding at the two walking away.


    ¡°He¡¯s good that way,¡± Byrony said, looking at his almost empty hands. ¡°I don¡¯t know how he keeps up with all of us.¡±


    There was a cough from behind him. Byrony turned around. He knew there was one person he particularly needed to address, and where the cough came from. Lero Bluestone watched the two technologists walk off and disappear into their workroom, and looked at Byrony. Haran read the disappointment on his face, and sighed a little bit.


    ¡°I know, I know, Lero,¡± Byrony said, walking up to the Daoine man, ¡°but Master Investigator ordered me to keep you in reserve. He told me to tell you that your skills were above all others, and that¡¯s why we have to have you ready to jump in case there are any problems.¡±


    ¡°So what am supposed to do until then?¡± Lero asked. His brows knit together in a deep frown. ¡°You of all people know how I get when I can¡¯t keep busy.¡±


    ¡°You could work with me, Lero,¡± Tobris Slipstone said, looking up from where she was reading. Her mood was clearly calm, and nothing much showed in her ruff. It hung untouched by any emotions on her shoulders, a dragonkin woman at peace. Her job was always being a support person, dredging up information out of the vast archives the DIC had accumulated over the centuries and that all her work would be nowhere but at DIC Headquarters.


    ¡°You?¡± Lero asked, surprised.


    ¡°You know how the archive equipment is always a mess, and I¡¯ve been begging for ages to have someone with skills go over the gear with me. It was all such early touchstone tech, and it¡¯s clumsy and breaks down constantly. There is better gear out there, but¡­¡± She turned and gave a quick look to Rust, who simply shrugged.


    The Daoine tech scratched his head. ¡°Early touchstone tech? Nobody¡¯s updated the archives since then?¡±


    Tobris shook her head. ¡°I¡¯ve begged. Got a few emergencies dealt with, but Logistics always told me I was low priority. But now, I¡¯ll be having high priority things to do.¡± She looked at Rust again. This time, the Logistics officer added a tiny smile and an even smaller nod to another shrug. ¡°We might be able to get some of it fixed.¡±


    Lero nodded with a stronger shake of his head. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ll go take a look.¡±


    Tobris stood up and grabbed Lero by the elbow and marched him out of the room, like she was trying to keep him from being snatched up by anybody else. ¡°First, let¡¯s look at the prime indexer.¡±


    After a moment, they disappeared out of the room


    ¡°Well, that solves that problem,¡± Bryony said. Finally he turned to Balston and Asper, the last two in the room who hadn¡¯t been assigned. He took a deep breath.


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid I have the hardest task for you, Asper. You and Balston get to see if we can make any sense out of the missing persons reports,¡± Byrony said, handing Asper the file. ¡°All but one of the cases are cold. All of them involve non-Dragonkin people which will complicate things.¡±


    ¡°What are we trying to find out?¡± Asper asked.


    ¡°Are they all really related? Or do we have some coincidental events? Are any of the transport companies involved, or are any of them being staged to make it look like one or more are? This may involve travel, but before you go, I want to go over the details and what we¡¯ve learned so far.¡± He turned to his Jinn companion. ¡°I¡¯d like your eyes on this too, Haran. And don¡¯t be afraid to speak up. If you can add anything to what we¡¯re missing, or ask a question we hadn¡¯t though of yet, that would be a good thing.¡±


    Haran nodded. ¡°This is all been an interesting learning experience. I hope I can give something back in return.¡±


    Byrony nodded back in return. ¡°Master Investigator moved all these materials back into one of the offices. Last week, we had each category taking up an entire section of wall each, but I think he thinks now that we¡¯re a multiperson team, it¡¯ll be better if we¡¯re not on top of each other.¡± He headed to a room marked ¡°Missing,¡± unlocked it, and ushered the two Dragonkin and the Jinn in.


    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    There was a large map on one wall, marked with each disappearance. The markings didn¡¯t have any obvious pattern to them, except they were mostly clustered in Daoine dominated parts of the Sunlit Lands, in areas where there were higher population centers.


    Besides the map, the standard bookcase and tea service, there was a table big enough to seat six people comfortably and eight in a pinch. Asper and Balston took seats on the left side. Haran took a seat to the right. Byrony went to the far side of the table and lifted the contents out of a large box resting there, then moved to the head of the table. He passed out a thick packet to each of Asper and Balston, and laid an identical one in front of Haran, while putting the fourth one in front of him.


    ¡°Here are copies of what we¡¯ve gathered so far, from first to last,¡± Byrony said.


    ¡°Looks like someone was busy yesterday evening,¡± Haran said. ¡°How¡¯d you know how many copies to make?¡±


    ¡°I was pretty sure Master Investigator was going to break us into pairs. It¡¯s his custom when working on cases with this many people. I made one for him, since I expected him to be leading this meeting, and an extra one, just in case.¡± Byrony looked a little embarrassed for some reason.


    ¡°Well, it was a lucky guess,¡± Haran said. He placed his notebook to the right of the stack of papers. ¡°Shall we get busy reviewing what¡¯s here?¡±


    <hr>


    Elsewhere in the Sunlit lands, Rob guided the cart that Betts was pulling into the town of Goblin Market. Gan looked at everything wide-eyed, taking it all in as they passed the first buildings as they entered the outskirts of town, big buildings that were comercial, small homes and large, but her eyes were not as wide as Rosebud, perched on her shoulder.


    ¡°So many people,¡± the little Pixie said, as they passed a lumber yard where several men were sawing, and a carpenter¡¯s shop where others were working in an open air area covered by a spacious roof. Beyond them was a line of four modest homes. ¡°So many people. So many buildings.¡±


    ¡°You haven¡¯t seen anything yet,¡± Rob said. ¡°Just wait.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s still interesting. I haven¡¯t really ever gotten a good look at the town here,¡± Gan said. ¡°I¡¯ve been to the Dragon Web station many times over the years, visiting Elaine. Even when we fled when I was a child and we moved to Brightwater. We came through with a group of refugees camping on the outside of down, and then we left.¡±


    He drove down the main street. There were only a couple of other horses on the street, but a number of people walking down the street, carrying baskets and bags. ¡°It¡¯s a nice little town. Glad we don¡¯t have to go to Waterford to go to market.¡± He turned to Gan. ¡°If you are agreed to it, I¡¯ll take Betts and the cart to Sully who runs the public stable here. He¡¯s a good man who loves horses and such, and that¡¯ll let her rest while we shop. Then we can meet up at Red Bird cafe. I doubt my shopping will take as long as yours.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re shopping too?¡± Rosebud asked, as if that was the most surprising fact of the day. ¡°I didn¡¯t know men went shopping. Cullin never does.¡±


    ¡°Cullin is a special case,¡± Gan told the Pixie.


    ¡°The Old Hermit never did either. He always waited for the peddlers to come.¡±


    ¡°Is that all your experience with Big People men?¡± Rob asked.


    She nodded yes.


    ¡°Your world is rather small then, girl. I need some new handles for my farming tools. I thought that hoe was going to fall apart on me yesterday. And I know my scythe needs a new handle. You just go with Mistress Gan and see all the wonders you can here at Goblin Market. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll have plenty of stories to tell the other Pixies when we get home.¡±


    Rosebud bubbled up with excitement at that thought. ¡°We¡¯re going to see wonders!¡± she shouted, just loud enough to turn one or two pedestrian¡¯s heads as they continued to drive down the street.


    ¡°And ma¡¯am,¡± Rob said, ¡°if you want to get anything heavy, just pay for it, and when we¡¯re ready to go, we¡¯ll just drive the cart to the shop, and pick it up right before we leave.¡± He pointed to an eatery on the street not far from where they were. A sign with bright letters in red announced ¡°Shimma¡¯s Place.¡± ¡°How about we meet there after you finish your shopping, ma¡¯am? I know what I want to get won¡¯t take me long, and they don¡¯t mind me waiting there.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± Gan asked.


    ¡°My Lily works there,¡± he said, looking down at his hands and blushing a little bit. ¡°Her aunt Shimma owns the place.¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± Gan said with a nod. ¡°I¡¯ll be sure to take my time.¡±


    <hr>


    In Willowick in Sunderland, Byrony went and refilled his tea mug while the two investigators and Haran read over the files of the missing no space researchers.


    He looked at the three men over the top of his mug. Haran was making notes in his little notebook. Asper was reading methodically, his lips moving silently as he plowed through the documents. Balston, a faster reader, had scanned through most of the report, then was going back to other sections, and reread them. Rubbing the back of his neck, he turned one last page and looked up.


    ¡°Commander Byrony?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Yes?¡± Byrony put down his mug.


    ¡°Are we sure the two,¡± he looked back down on the page in front of him, ¡°the two Greengain brothers are the same type of disappearance? I mean, from the reports, what they were doing and how they were working seems so different than the rest of the people.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s true that what they were working on was different than the other missing persons ¨C according to reports, they were trying to fine tune a method of moving materials in their mining operations,¡± Byrony said, nodding. ¡°This is a good question and Master Investigator and I have pondered it a good bit. The Greengain Brothers were evidently trying to find a system to move material that would free them from using the jumpstones supplied by B&F.¡±


    ¡°I noticed there was a lot of trying to work around B&F,¡± Asper said, nodding. ¡°Have we checked out any possible sabotage by them?¡±


    ¡°Over and over again,¡± Byrony said. ¡°There is absolutely no trail that actually goes back to the transport company. But there have been many false trails that seem to try to imply that.¡±


    Haran took notes.


    Byrony picked his mug back up. But back to your question ¨C we considered them first for several reasons. Like most of the other people on the list, they were contacted by someone from the outside who they mentioned had offered them help ¨C but the person was never seen by their own teams. There were a few messages left behind that seemed to come from Harani, but when we tried to trace them, they went back to a shut down bakery and a gryphon stable.¡±


    ¡°Stable, eh? Was someone trying to make a joke?¡± Haran asked.


    ¡°We have considered that,¡± Byrony said. ¡°But if they were trying to, the joke fell flat.¡±


    ¡°And like all the others that had witnesses, there was a large display of magical light shortly before they disappeared. In fact, twice, since they were in two different chambers of their mining works. Those light displays were witnessed by others not involved with the research.¡±


    ¡°It does follow the pattern,¡± Balston said, nodding. ¡°None before this?¡±


    ¡°Not that we¡¯ve been able to determine,¡± Byrony said. ¡°If something happened earlier, nobody reported anything.¡±


    ¡°So next was Reinz Tobry, who worked in Brissingham over in the Western Reaches,¡± Asper said, thumbing back to the appropriate page. The town there has a big school of Fireburners there, and they had made several breakthroughs on enhancing no-space related devices ¨C specialized carriages that could work independently of Dragon Web stations. The King¡¯s Guard uses one of their models for troop transport, in fact. It¡¯s powered, of course, by Briarwood and Flysch no space engines.¡±


    Byrony nodded. ¡°Yes, and the information we have is that Tobry thought he had been approached by one of the Transport companies in competition with B&F to see if the gear they were working on could be adapted. When we followed up on it, the company had no idea of what was going on.¡±


    ¡°And someone dropped an anonymous accusation against one of the B&F regional managers,¡± Asper said, running his finger along the text. ¡°How did that turn out?¡±


    ¡°Another dead end,¡± Byrony said. He leaned back a little bit in his chair. ¡°Manager was not anywhere near Brissingham. He had been doing a rotation at B&F headquarters.¡±


    ¡°So most of these cases are just like that,¡± Haran said. ¡°A person respected in the field gets contacted by someone purporting to help them do legitimate research, for the most part, research on how to adapt some sort of mechanism that would free the researcher¡¯s company or location from B&F¡¯s expense. Then some of them have trails that seem to implicate B&F, but they all prove to be dead ends.¡±


    ¡°That does seem to be the strategy for whoever is doing this,¡± Byrony said.


    ¡°And most of the incidents that are witnessed outside of the room the researcher was in record a rather impressive light and magic show.¡± Haran rubbed his chin. ¡°Is that normal for no-space incidents?¡±


    ¡°No. Usually a person crosses into no space, and that¡¯s that. No noise, no obvious magic, definitely no light show,¡± Asper said. ¡°That¡¯s why the King¡¯s Guard can use no space devices in covert operations, like they did in the last operation you and Commander Byrony were on.¡± He shrugged. ¡°You¡¯re there one moment, and then you¡¯re gone.¡±


    ¡°So whoever is orchestrating this wants to call attention to the events. Is he doing this to say ¡®Look at me!¡¯ or is he masking something else in the light show?¡± Haran scratched the back of his neck. ¡°And if he¡¯s trying to blame B&F, they¡¯d never do something so attention grabbing if they were trying to eliminate the competition. What is his logic?¡±


    ¡°If there is logic, it might be intimidation...the Aos Si aren¡¯t as a whole that familiar with how no space works. It could be a ¡®How dare you, you puny others, playing with the secrets of the Dragonkin¡¯ signal. Master Investigator and I have pondered this for a long time.¡±


    Haran nodded, and looked thoughtful for a moment. His eyes grew big as an idea struck him. ¡°What if these weren¡¯t no space accidents after all? What if they were kidnappings or murders or something else, and he picked researchers because they were easy targets, and people would assume after the light show and the person being gone that it was the research that did them in.¡± He grabbed his tea mug. ¡°What if the real magic was the light show.¡±


    ¡°What type of magic would that be?¡± Byrony asked. ¡°But also be aware we¡¯ve never found any trace of any of the missing anywhere after their incident.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure. Maybe your archivist can did up something. Or maybe the White Island can. They have records that go back to the Sundering, and some before.¡±


    ¡°We can do some digging on this,¡± Byrony said, nodding. He didn¡¯t look or sound convinced. ¡°Everything else we¡¯ve hit was a dead end, and I brought you in for fresh insight. That one certainly is something we haven¡¯t pursued.¡±


    ¡°Could he have been doing blood magic?¡± Balston asked. ¡°Using the researchers as sacrificial victims?¡±


    ¡°Not at the disappearance sites. They were all blood free, and none of them showed signs of a struggle. If he was doing something like that, he was doing it elsewhere.¡±


    Balston shrugged. ¡°Just an idea.¡±


    ¡°And one worth following up on. You can feel free about assembling whatever people you can snag to pursue it if you want to. But before we go off into the field looking for traces, I have one more case for you. This is recent, and may have nothing to do with the original cases. A Daoine woman who worked for B&F in their jump stone shop has gone missing, and we don¡¯t know why.¡± He passed out a new set of papers. ¡°Her name is Violetta Greenleaf, and in her secondary schooling, she studied under the last man to disappear, Tobias Gwaher of Comrie.¡±

 Day 15 of the Warming Month, Continued 3

    Chapter 48


    Water for what hurts: Take an ounce of rosemary, two ounces of lavender, a half ounce of marjoram. Cover them with a quart of good quality brandy and let the herbs steep together for at least one week. Distill for a water that is good to use for a rub wherever it hurts. It is also good for skin problems, and smells pleasant. Something I always keep on hand.


    Recipes from the Kitchens of Comrie   , edited by Mella Cowrie. Recipe by Gan Thistleberry


    Byrony looked at the team at the table. ¡°I need you to help me stay straight on this one, and make sure I¡¯m not letting my own preconceptions run wild with me on Mistress Greenleaf¡¯s disappearance.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Asper asked.


    ¡°This too has a Harani connection. So many little things we are investigating seem to brush up to that area. Dead addresses. The possible connection to Sinter Acquisitions. And now, Mistress Greenleaf disappeared after visiting the greater Harani area. Last time she was seen was in Runi Blahn.¡±


    ¡°Mighty close to the Gray Lands,¡± Balston said.


    All eyes turned to Haran. The Jinn rubbed the back of his neck. ¡°I can¡¯t add a whole lot to what you know about that part of the world. It¡¯s true I was born in Harani, but I lived most of my life in Meridae and on the White Isle. I might be able to add a little about Jinn folkways, but even there I¡¯d probably be suspect.¡±


    ¡°There was a murder in the Gray Lands earlier this year. Someone had used Blazendraught on one of the Aos Si who was mining there.¡±


    Asper shuddered. ¡°I¡¯ve seen what that does to someone who wasn¡¯t Dragonkin. It¡¯s not a pretty sight.¡±


    ¡°It certainly wasn¡¯t.¡± Haran closed his eyes and shook his head, chasing out his memory of the death scene he had found. ¡°It was obvious that whoever did this was looking for something, but we haven¡¯t been able to discover who¡¯s involved or what they were searching for. Interestingly, the murder took place shortly approximately at the same time Violetta Greenleaf was in Runi Blah. And Runi Blah is the closest town to the freehold.¡±


    ¡°Do you think there might be a connection?¡± Haran asked.


    ¡°No sign of her at the murder site when we got there. But a group of Jinn had made a trip to the mine, something they did on a semi-regular basis to trade with the miners. They¡¯re the ones who discovered the murder. By the time we got our field team out there, the Jinn crew had long gone.¡± Haran looked down at his papers. ¡°This is not the first time there was an event at the freehold. Shortly before the first missing persons event happened, an excavation team had found some old artifacts, pre-Sundering. As they were leaving, there was an attack that pretty much wiped out most of them, and destroyed the mine buildings. It was supposedly an attack of Gallu, an occupational hazard in that part of the world, but because of the nature of what the team was trying to send back, there¡¯s always been some suspicion that someone else orchestrated the attack.¡± Haran shrugged. ¡°We really don¡¯t know if that attack ought to be part of our investigation. But another interesting point we discovered in our initial investigation about Greenleaf is that she was very close to one of the people at the Freehold. He wasn¡¯t exactly part of the research team, but he too disappeared during the attack. No body was found. For a long time, we just assumed he had jumped into no space, even though it¡¯s hard to do in the Gray Lands. No matter what, nobody¡¯s heard from him since.¡±


    ¡°This person was Dragonkin?¡± Haran asked.


    ¡°Yes. He had been working with B&F for several years in the jump stone division. We assume this is where he and Greenleaf initially met.¡±


    ¡°What else do we know about the woman?¡± Asper asked.


    ¡°Let¡¯s see. Her secondary schooling was at Master Gwaher¡¯s school in Comrie. First she studied with the Alder Branches on the White Isle. Later, after she finished that course of study, she moved on and started studying with the Fireburners.¡±


    ¡°Interesting,¡± Haran said. ¡°Not that many people do two fields of expertise.¡±


    ¡°She evidently had a knack of some sort, because B&F hired her right after she graduated. Interestingly, this is the second connection to Comrie that our case has, although in this case it¡¯s probably just coincidence. Gwaher was the headmaster of the school where Greenleaf was a student. Interestingly, she was in the same class as Elaine Allyns, noblewoman of Allynswood, whose husband is part of the Birch¡¯s special forces.¡±


    ¡°She was also the schoolmate of Gan Thistleberry who later came back to the school and became headmistress of the lower grades,¡± Asper said. ¡°My cousin was working at the Comrie DIC office when all that happened. He used to complain about how often Thistleberry would come back to nag about the investigation on his disappearance. She seemed to be under the impression we weren¡¯t doing anything about it. That might have been my cousin¡¯s fault. He kind of suspected that Thistleberry might have arranged his disappearance in revenge for being rejected in love. It was part of the local gossip that Thistleberry had an...unusual...relationship with him.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s unfortunate,¡± Byrony said, sighing. ¡°And now, we might need to ask her and Lady Elaine what they know about Violetta. This is why the DIC manual has all those maxims about prejudging.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s not at the school any more,¡± Haran said. ¡°The Redwing Clan, who are the dominant donors to the school, put another person in charge of the school, someone who Thistleberry couldn¡¯t work with. She¡¯s now living on a small farm on the Allynswood estate.¡±


    ¡°And you talk about Dragonkin politics. Daoine clan politics are something I¡¯ll never fathom.¡± Byrony got up from his chair, and walked up to look at the map hanging on the wall. ¡°How did you find out?¡±


    ¡°One of our younger people is planning to train with her this spring. She just happens to be Lady Elaine¡¯s sister, so we learned all about it.¡±


    ¡°Funny how one person can be so connected to so much happening on the big stage, and not be a part of it. But at least we won¡¯t have to deal with the Comrie DIC. Even if your cousin moved on, Thistleberry has to have bad memories of that place.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re probably right about that,¡± Asper said. ¡°My cousin, well just let¡¯s say he¡¯s not the best diplomat out there. This is why he got moved to Creche security.¡±


    ¡°Oy,¡± Balston said.


    Asper chuckled. ¡°Keeps the rowdy young ones in line. They¡¯re still as boneheaded as we were at that age.¡±


    ¡°Speak for yourself, man,¡± Balston said.


    Asper gave his partner an evil grin. ¡°I was.¡±


    Byrony found the River Glint on the map, and then his spikes flashed a warm color that reflected satisfaction. ¡°Ah, we may be in a bit of luck. That area is watched by the Goblin Market DIC. It¡¯s just a small place, in between Meridae and Waterford by Glint, the type of place DIC tends to station dead-enders. The lead investigator there fits that perfectly. He¡¯s a long termer up to his neck in the local sanctioned smuggling trade and wouldn¡¯t know how to do a proper investigation if his life expected it, but there¡¯s a talented, personable young first year there. I knew his father, and his uncle is pretty respected in his own work at the Willowick Academy. Young Umber worked with me on the smuggling operation as my aide. Maybe we can make more headway if we ask him to make contact first. If Witstone gets to her first, it could really wreck things.¡±


    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°Or you could go,¡± Haran said, looking at Byrony.


    ¡°We¡¯ll save that for emergency backup. Master Investigator will have my butt if I don¡¯t stay here reading all the reports.¡±


    ¡°Ah, reports. The bane of our life,¡± Asper said.


    ¡°At least you¡¯ll get to leave,¡± Byrony said. ¡°Plan your itinerary. Pick your staff. Talk to Rust and get busy. And let¡¯s see if you can prove that I¡¯m crazy thinking that there must be a Harani connection. Or that maybe, Haran is right, that all this is hiding something else. Good hunting!¡±


    <hr>


    In Goblin Market, Gan nimbly got out of the horse cart.


    ¡°Have a good time shopping,¡± Rob told her. ¡°If you need me, you know where to find me.¡±


    ¡°Have a good time talking to your special friend,¡± Gan said, with a big grin and a little wave. ¡°But don¡¯t let her leave before I get there. I want to meet this Lily of yours.¡±


    Rod gave her a sheepish little smile, and colored a little. ¡°I¡¯ll try,¡± he said, and with a shake of the reins, headed off to the stable.


    ¡°So remember, Rosebud, stay near me. It¡¯s a long way back to Pixie Hollow for a Pixie. And a hawk or a cat might get you before you got home. If you get tired, you can go back to sleep in my bag.¡±


    ¡°Hawks? Cats?¡± There was a note of panic in the pixie¡¯s voice. She dove to the handle of Gan¡¯s bag and sat on the the puckers of the pulled closed drawstring. ¡°Could you open it a little bit, please? Maybe I¡¯ll just peek out through the top.¡±


    ¡°If you want.¡± Gan loosened the drawstring enough for the little woman to slip through. For the moment, Rosebud leaned against the puckered fabric, her arms crossed in front of her. It reminded Gan of a student she remembered from the previous year, who would lean against a window sill when she was homesick, and it made her take a deep breath, remembering the child. She chased the thought out of her head with a quick breath. ¡°Just remember this is a bag of holding, and I might be shoving all sorts of things in there. You might want to stay focused on the pocket you took your nap so you don¡¯t get buried under everything.¡±


    Rosebud nodded. Not sure if the little pixie even heard her, she began to walk down the street to start her shopping.


    The street was filled with bright banners and interesting signs. The first they passed had a finely carved sign that announced proudly ¡°Gavon¡¯s Woodworks.¡± Inside a man skillfully was planing wood.


    ¡°Well one thing we don¡¯t need right now is more furniture,¡± Gan said, but watched the craftsman for a bit. ¡°Still, he looks very skilled. I¡¯ll remember that.¡±


    Next to the woodworker, there was a dressmaker. Since Gan made her own clothing this didn¡¯t interest her at all. But next to that was a shop that announced itself as the Sweet Place. Gan smiled as she walked in ¨C there was a counter filled with a rainbow color of candies ¨C red, blue, green, purple, white. The smells of mint, licorice, strawberry and other flavors tickled her nose.


    ¡°Oooh,¡± Rosebud said, lifting out of the bag. ¡°It all looks so delicious.¡±


    ¡°It all is, Mistress Pixie,¡± said the woman behind the counter. ¡°Hello to you two. I¡¯m Sella Cabris. You must be Gan Thistleberry. I had heard you had moved into Pixie Hollow.¡±


    ¡°I am,¡± Gan said. ¡°How¡¯d you know?¡±


    ¡°Oh, word like that gets around.¡± Sella said. ¡°I¡¯ve been hoping you¡¯d drop by. And here you show up with a Pixie. You only have one here?¡±


    ¡°Only one, and she got here by accident.¡±


    ¡°Just like a Pixie.¡± Sella turned to the tiny woman and smiled. ¡°Would you like a taste of what I sell?¡± She held out a tiny little candy, about the size of a sunflower seed.


    Rosebud looked at Gan. ¡°Is it all right?¡±


    ¡°Yes, tell me what you think of it.¡±


    The Pixie took the tiny morsel and took a bite. ¡°Oh!¡± she said, floating up. ¡°It tastes like sweet strawberries!¡±


    ¡°I have other flavors, too. Melon, blueberry, rose, tea and cream¡­¡±


    ¡°I think I need a bag of those,¡± Gan said, rather amused by Rosebud¡¯s reaction. She also bought several other sweets, and tucked them into her bag, putting a little ward on them to keep Rosebud from eating them all before they got home. Rosebud, sulking just a little, went back to her perch in the bag.


    The next shop had an even stronger smell that drifted through the door. Must be the herbalist,¡± Gan said.


    ¡°It¡¯s stinky,¡± Rosebud said as they walked through. Some bells rang as Gan closed the door.


    ¡°When you keep this many plants together, that¡¯s what happens,¡± Gan said.


    The shop was dimly lit. The walls were lined with jars of herbs, woods, seeds, jars of oils and tinctures. The counter had a large scale, a small scale, several mortars and pestles, things for sifting, jars and papers. But there was no person behind the counter.


    ¡°Coming!¡± came a man¡¯s voice from the back.


    Gan walked around looking at the stock on the shelves, impressed with the selection, when the owner pushed through a curtained door and stepped into the room. ¡°Good morning,¡± a pleasant male voice said, deep and resonant, ¡°How can I help ¨C ¡±He stopped, as if surprised. ¡°Gan, Gan Thistleberry, is that you?¡±


    Gan turned around, and saw an older Jinn man. His chin was clean-shaven, but his long, dark hair fell in carefully groomed ringlets, adorned with blue ribbons at the bottom. His skin was the swarthy dark of the Jinn, and his eyes were golden, like secret fire. When Gan saw him, she broke out in a big smile. ¡°Kalishi Myron! I didn¡¯t know you were living in Goblin Market!¡±


    ¡°Oh, I have been, for the last five years. Didn¡¯t I mention that at the last conference? The one where Jimma Braeswood tried to convince us all that Spider Weed was the latest cure-all for magical anemia?¡± He gave her a big hug. ¡°It¡¯s so good to see you. But you¡¯re a long way from Comrie.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not there any more. I live on the Allynswood estate now.¡± Gan said.


    ¡°Trouble at the school, or did you decide to retire?¡± he asked, moving behind his counter.


    ¡°It¡¯s complicated. There¡¯s a new headmaster, and he doesn¡¯t approve of my approach to practical magics.¡±


    ¡°Ah, I¡¯m sorry to hear that,¡± Kalishi said. ¡°Well one good thing is I hope I get to see you more often than at the Summer Conference.¡± He rubbed his chin. ¡°Are you going this year? It won¡¯t be the same place if you don¡¯t show up.¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t decided yet. What with the moving, and the Pixies and - ¡±


    ¡°So it was you who moved into Pixie Hollow!¡± He smacked himself in the forehead. ¡°I was wondering who was brave enough or stupid enough to move into that place.¡±


    ¡°Hey!¡± said Rosebud, rising up out of her perch in Gan¡¯s bag. ¡°That¡¯s not a nice thing to say about Mistress Gan!¡±


    Kalishi stared at the tiny woman for a moment. ¡°I would never say anything bad about Mistress Gan, small thing. I was wondering who would have the audacity of making a home with so many of your folks. Usually, Big Folk and Little Folk don¡¯t live well together, but knowing Mistress Gan, I suspect she has taken you all in and made your life lovely. Am I not right?¡±


    Rosebud, who was staring back at him angrily, blinked twice, and all the anger drained out of her face. ¡°How...how did you know?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve known Gan for many, many years, small one. I bet she bakes bread and pie and stuffs you with soup, too. And cookies, sometimes, too.¡±


    Rosebud¡¯s eyes grew wide, and she flew over and landed on Gan¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Is he a farseer? Can he read our minds?¡±


    ¡°No dear, Master Kalishi is an apothecary. One of the best in all Ynys Afel, and Goblin Market doesn¡¯t know how lucky they are to have him here. He could open a shop in the Capital, and people would be flocking to him.¡±


    ¡°I have better things to do than put up with the games of Daoine nobility,¡± Kalishi said, crossing his arms and scowling, ¡°any more than you do, Gan Thistleberry.¡±


    ¡°And we know the Willow Leaves have been after you for ages.¡±


    ¡°The same as the Goosequills wanting you.¡±


    Gan shivered. ¡°To be stuck on White Isle...no, it¡¯s not for me.¡±


    ¡°The same here. The Willow Leaves can have my journals and recipes. I¡¯ll give them that much. But people like you and me, we just don¡¯t fit into their molds.¡±


    ¡°Agreed.¡± Gan reached into her bag and pulled out a list. ¡°I need to replenish my supplies. Can you handle this today?¡±


    Suddenly, Kalishi was all work. He read her list carefully. ¡°I don¡¯t know if I have enough cat¡¯s eye herb, and I¡¯m fresh out of Tobrian Tonic.¡±


    ¡°Are you getting some more in?¡± she asked.


    ¡°I¡¯m supposed to, in a few weeks, they promised.¡± He sighed. ¡°It¡¯s hard to make. I hear they had a...misadventure with the last batch. I hope nobody was injured. I hear it can get quite explosive if it¡¯s fermented wrong.¡±


    ¡°How odd for a potion that¡¯s so good in steadying the nerves and reducing fever.¡±


    ¡°Funny, isn¡¯t it?¡± He stroked his chin. ¡°Yes, I can bundle up the rest of it for you. It¡¯ll take about half an hour.¡±


    ¡°Ah, that works. I have some more shopping to do. I¡¯ll come back for it before I leave.¡±


    He nodded, and began to reach for his scale. ¡°It¡¯ll be here when you come back.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s go, Rosebud,¡± Gan said, to the little Pixie who had gotten brave enough to start examining the jars on the shelves.


    ¡°This is such a strange place,¡± Rosebud said. She flew over to Kalishi. ¡°Why do you people collect so many dead leaves?¡±


    ¡°We have all sorts of good uses for them, small woman. They help make us well, they make things smell better, and they make food taste better.¡±


    ¡°They do?¡± she sounded doubtful. She turned and looked at Gan.


    ¡°They do,¡± Gan said. ¡°You eat some of it every day in your soup. Thyme and marjoram and savory, among other things.¡±


    ¡°Must be different dry leaves than the ones I ate.¡± She drifted down to Gan¡¯s bag. ¡°Bye, Master Apothecary.¡± She waved.


    ¡°And farewell to you, small woman. Take care of Mistress Gan. She¡¯s a very special person.¡±


    ¡°I do! I will!¡± she said, and disappeared into the bag. ¡°Time for a nap!¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯ll let you get on with filling my order,¡± Gan said. ¡°I¡¯ll be back!¡± And with a final wave, she headed out of the store.

 Day 15 of the Warming Month, Continued 4

    Chapter 49


    I cannot say this enough, students. No matter what your hunches, assumptions, ideas, you as investigators need to keep your nose to the facts ¨C the facts should be a knife that cuts through your prejudices, shows you where your hunches are false trails, how wrong your initial assumptions can be. Only in this way, can we pursue justice and insure that wrongs are righted. And if this is not your goal, you should find another line of work.


    Class Lecture, Zeriel Brimstell, DIC Academy President, in DIC Study Guide, Sunderland Press


    At the Goblin Market Dragon Web station, the freight area was filled with goods ready to be picked up from the morning delivery.


    ¡°That looks like it,¡± Gob Hezney said. The Spriggan porter wiped his huge forehead with a bright red handkerchief. He stepped outside, with Umber Madrona following quickly behind. ¡°Transport, it¡¯s all yours!¡±


    The lock on the door, a long metal bar that was triggered from the other side slammed into place. One of the transport workers gave the sign that all was good. In a few moments there was a glimmer of magic in the air like a fine sheen coating the carriage and it was gone, off to Meridae.


    ¡°Hey Jabot! We¡¯re leaving it all in your hands. Try to get it cleared out before the afternoon carriage gets here,¡± Gob said, wiping the back of his neck with the same cloth.


    Jabon, looking up from his desk where he managed all the shipping and receiving of the freight running through the station gave the pair a nod. He was an older Bauchan man, with a little gray beginning to pepper his brown hair. People at the Dragon Web station said he let the gray in to distract through his most notable feature, a set of extraordinarily large and extremely pointed ears. It might have been true.


    ¡°Ah, you¡¯re just lucky there¡¯s no more wool sacks ready to go today. But we¡¯ll have something just as interesting when you get back.¡± He looked at his clipboard. ¡°Master Glamstin has a shipment of clay water pipes ready to go to Waterford by Glint, along with a big order of tiles.¡±


    ¡°No rest for the weary,¡± Gob said. ¡°I¡¯ll be sure to give my back a good rest until it¡¯s time.¡±


    ¡°That Glamstin, I swear he has it in for us,¡± Gob said. ¡°So, are you meeting your young lady for lunch today?


    Umber sighed. ¡°No, she said she has to run some errands today at lunch time. She and I, well, she¡¯s going to show me something tomorrow on our day off. I think maybe it has to do something with that.¡±


    Gob patted him on the back. ¡°Now that¡¯s a good sign. I¡¯d heard Dragonkin women, once they set their eye on someone, well, they don¡¯t take no for an answer.¡±


    ¡°No one ever set their eye on me before,¡± Umber admitted. ¡°I don¡¯t know if that¡¯s true or not.¡±


    ¡°Well enjoy it. I¡¯ve heard nothing but good about the Lana of yours.¡±


    He and Umber stepped out of the freight area, where a wagon was being loaded with goods that had just come in with the morning¡¯s shipment. Gob waved goodbye, and headed home for his midday break.


    Umber wandered back to the office. For some reason, Thornfield was gone, no doubt taking an early lunch, and he got his paperwork for the morning run calculated and filed away without any sarcasm, belittlement, or stupid errands to slow him down. He put the last forms away, stood up, and made a decision.


    ¡°There¡¯s no way I¡¯m eating field rations for lunch again,¡± he said. He thought about the lunch Lana had made him yesterday, and it gave him both an odd yearning for something he wasn¡¯t sure of, some combination of nostalgia and whatever was blooming between him and the young Dragonkin woman, and the determination to live a better quality life than he had been having since moving to this town.


    ¡°Lana thinks I¡¯m worth it,¡± he muttered to himself. ¡°Commander Byrony thinks I¡¯m worth it. It¡¯s time I think I¡¯m worth it.¡± Closing the office door behind him and posting the out to lunch sign on the doorknob, he headed for the outside.


    He walked briskly down the main street, dodging shoppers, and stepping around a wagon parked in front of Turbot¡¯s Dry Goods. The place he was heading for was a small food kiosk he had eaten at before ¨C The Lunch House, a popular daytime eatery for street food. There was no place to sit down. The customer ordered, it was served on paper, and a person either ate it while standing on the street or carried it off to eat elsewhere. It was very popular with the people who worked in town. Even though it was not quite lunch time, there was a line of people already ready to buy, and the smells coming from the tiny shop smelled delicious. He got in line. In front of him was a Bauchan man with clay smeared on his clothes, a man who he suspected worked at the workshop that made the pipes he was going to have to deal with in the afternoon. He found himself wanting to say something snide, but resisted the temptation. In front of that man was a Lake People woman, with cascading green hair. She worked at Mayor Turbot¡¯s office.


    ¡°Everybody eats here,¡± he said. That pleased him for some reason.


    ¡°Now Rosebud,¡± came a voice from behind him, ¡°you know we¡¯re going to meet Rob at that cafe soon as we¡¯re through getting our shopping done.¡± It was a voice he had heard before, but he couldn¡¯t put a face to it.


    The line moved forward as a member of the Alder Branches, who ran a local free school took a big bag of food away from the kiosk. Her blue robes fluttered as she hurried away.


    ¡°Now maybe we can get some food,¡± said the workman in front of him, grumbling. ¡°Stupid teachers always buy such a big order.¡±


    The workman almost drowned out the small voice of whoever was talking to the woman behind him.


    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    ¡°But I¡¯m so hungry! And it smells so good! Please, please?¡± the little voice pleaded.


    After stepping forward, Umber turned around and saw a small Bauchan-looking woman in a plain blue dress with a brilliantly white apron. Her eyes, though was bluer than her dress. It looked like she was talking to a bag that hung from her arm by a fine wooden handle, but when he looked more carefully, he saw a tiny woman dressed in what looked like a dress made of flower petals. That surprised him.


    ¡°Are you a Pixie?¡± he said to the little woman. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever seen a Pixie before.¡±


    Both Gan and Rosebud looked up at Umber. Rosebud flew up and turned her head as she circled around the young Dragonkin. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen a person that looks like you before. Where did you come from? You look like a lizard.¡±


    ¡°Rosebud!¡± Gan said, a bit bothered by Rosebud¡¯s rudeness. ¡°He¡¯s a Dragonkin. And he¡¯s a nice young man. He was very helpful the day I got here.¡±


    Another customer got his order and the line moved forward. Umber moved forward.


    ¡°I remember seeing you that day ¨C you seemed rather excited, and a little nervous, and I was hoping to help you get out of the freight carriage with no problems,¡± Umber said.


    ¡°Why yes!¡± Gan said. ¡°You remembered that? I was a bit nervous, and wondering if I was going to have to circle my team around, and you opened the other door. If warm feelings counted for anything, you got a bucketful that day.¡±


    Umber gave her a small smile. ¡° I was trained at the DIC academy in Sunderland. They teach us how to do that,¡± Umber said, shrugging. ¡°There¡¯s a whole group of techniques and training for memory. It comes in handy for investigators. But I think I would have remembered you, anyway. I saw you before that day when you came to the station, and Mayor Turbot made it a point to talk with Lady Elaine. I thought it was a bit rude of him, but Lady Elaine handled it very well.¡±


    ¡°Well, I won¡¯t say what I think of Mayor Turbot, but it wasn¡¯t the best first impression. But Elaine, Elaine is a special soul,¡± Gan said, nodding.


    ¡°If she¡¯s anything like her younger sister, she has to be.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve met Arriane?¡± Gan asked.


    Umber nodded. ¡°She goes back and forth to the White Island a good bit. The first time we met, I was having a rather bad day, and she gave me a sweet and tried to cheer me up. Ever since then, she stops by to say hello.¡±


    ¡°That sounds like Arriane. Yes, Elaine is very much like that.¡± Something lit up Gan¡¯s face as she had an idea. ¡°So you¡¯re getting lunch?¡±


    He nodded.


    ¡°I guess I am, too.¡± Rosebud, who had been hiding once again, lifted up and hugged the woman on the neck.


    ¡°It smells so good,¡± Rosebud said. ¡°I¡¯m so hungry.¡±


    ¡°Do you know any place near here where we can sit down and eat?¡± Gan asked Umber.


    ¡°There¡¯s a small park near here,¡± Umber said, nodding. ¡°If you¡¯d like, I can show you the way.¡±


    ¡°That would be lovely,¡± Gan said. ¡°I think I¡¯d love to sit down for a little while. All this shopping, it takes a bit out of a person. It¡¯s been awhile since I¡¯ve done this.¡±


    After they got their food, Umber led them to a small park about halfway between the kiosk and the Dragon Web station, a couple of blocks off the main street. There were a few benches under a scattering of trees, and a statue in the center of the little square. It was walled off from the hustle and bustle of the business of Goblin Market, although an open wrought iron gate in each wall invited people to enter.


    A boy was in the park, playing fetch with a dog, while an older woman kept a watchful eye on both of them. Gan and Umber moved to the opposite side of the square.


    Gan settled down, placing her lunch next to her. Rosebud circled around the bundle, but didn¡¯t land. ¡°Smells so good. So hungry.¡±


    ¡°If you have time, why don¡¯t you join us, Master¡­¡± Gan said.


    ¡°Umber. Umber Madrona,¡± the young Dragonkin man said. ¡°Are you sure?¡±


    ¡°Yes please,¡± Gan said. ¡°You¡¯re the nicest person from the DIC I¡¯ve ever meant. Are there more like you?¡±


    ¡°I hope so,¡± Umber said. ¡°Thankfully they aren¡¯t all bad.¡± He sat down near her. ¡°Have you had problems with the DIC? Outside of travel problems, most Aos Si don¡¯t have any run-ins with the DIC.¡±


    Gan opened her lunch bundle, and took out a croquette. Her face grew solemn as she broke off and handed a piece to Rosebud.


    The little Pixie took it with great appreciation, and took a bite. ¡°So wonderful!¡±


    Gan gave her a little smile, not as sincere as her usual, then sighed. ¡°It was a few years ago. The headmaster of our school, Tobias Gwaher, was also a noted researcher of no space devices. He had been working on a new project, I think with the aid of someone out of town. One night, his laboratory lit up like a fireworks display. He did not like people interrupting his work, so me and the rest of the staff were a bit hesitant to check on him, but finally, we got the keys and went in. But when we got there, he was gone. Nothing was disturbed, and even his notes were there. Because we knew he was working on no space, we went to the DIC office in Comrie, who swarmed over the place, took his notes and other things out of his laboratory and told us nothing.


    ¡°Later, they came and questioned us. One of the investigators, a man named Leshin Riven questioned me multiple times. I got the strong impression that he suspected I had killed Master Gwaher in a fit of jealous rage or something, Gwaher who had been a father to me after my parents died. That enraged me.¡±


    ¡°We are trained in techniques about how not to prejudge cases we¡¯re investigating. I am sorry you had to deal with that. To lose someone and then be treated like that.¡± He unwrapped his own lunch. ¡°I¡¯m sorry for bringing up such sad memories.¡±


    Gan nodded. ¡°I know you didn¡¯t mean anything bad, young man. And if Arriane likes you, I know you have a good heart.¡± She broke off another piece for Rosebud, then took another bite herself, and chewed thoughtfully. ¡°What really made me angriest,¡± she said after a moment, ¡°that every time I made inquiries about the investigation, Riven gave me the runaround, and eventually implied the case was closed. Finally he instructed everybody to no longer let me in the DIC office.¡±


    ¡°There is no such thing as a closed case until it¡¯s solved at the DIC,¡± Umber said. His spiked flared with aggravation at what Gan had gone through. ¡°It is true that cases that are beyond or more critical than the local DIC office¡¯s ability to handle get transferred to more experienced investigators. I¡¯m betting this is what happened to your case, but Riven was such a¡­¡±


    ¡°A stupid head!¡± Rosebud said, rather vehemently. ¡°Just like Fergus gets when he¡¯s had a fight with Lila. He never wants to admit he¡¯s wrong.¡±


    Both of the big people stared at the little woman. Neither of them had realized Rosebud was paying attention to them.


    ¡°Yes, Mistress Rosebud, that probably fits him well.¡± Umber took a sip of the soup he had bought. ¡°Anyway, he was probably too full of himself to admit he was wrong and that¡¯s why he treated you so poorly.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s good to know everyone in the DIC isn¡¯t like him,¡± Gan said. She broke off a final small piece of food and gave it to Rosebud, and popped the last bit into her mouth.


    ¡°It¡¯s been very nice to meet you, Umber Madrona. Thank you for taking time to make this a good day, even if we brought up sad memories.¡± She stood up and brushed a few crumbs off her dress. Next, she reached into her bag, and pulled out a small packet. ¡°Here, take this.¡±


    Umber looked up at her. ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°Oh, just a little something I made at home. May it sweeten up your day.¡±


    Rosebud circled around, looking at what Gan had given him. ¡°It¡¯s all right, Rosebud. We¡¯ll be going to the bakery where Leila gets her cookies. You want some of them, right?¡±


    That brought the Pixie back to Gan. ¡°Promise?¡±


    ¡°Right after we go order the flour and beans and other things. We¡¯ll go to the bakery, then go get Rob. So back to the bag.¡±


    The Pixie retook her place.


    Umber stood up as well. ¡°Well, I have to get back to my work as well. I hope your shopping goes well. And perhaps I¡¯ll get to see you again. Thank you for the company.¡±


    Saying their goodbyes, Gan headed back to the main street, and Umber went the back way to the Dragon Web station.


    On their way back, Rosebud looked up at Gan. ¡°Umber is nice. But I still think he looks like a lizard.¡±


    Gan just rolled her eyes.

 Day 15 of the Warming Month, Continued 5

    Chapter 50


    Beware of note taking people. They will show you up every time, even if they are on your side.


    Aphorisms for a Quiet Life   by Ruddtha Redstone, Chairman of Toolets Manufacturing, Sunderland


    It was early afternoon on the White Isle. Two women were walking through the office area of the White Circle¡¯s Chapter House. Almost no one was around. There were no students around seeking help, and many of the staff were out teaching at the moment and no one heeded their passage. One woman who had long flowing green hair had a look of panic on her face, and the other was full of uncertainty.


    ¡°Are you sure this is all right?¡± Arianne asked as they stopped in front of a door.


    Sammisa the Lake woman intensified her panicked look with a knotted brow frown. ¡°Was it all right for the Oldest to give me a last moment class assignment that I had never taught before? That first class...they are all going to think I¡¯m a moron. Thrown to the wolves I was. This was Haran¡¯s normal assignment. He¡¯s got to have something in his files about it. He¡¯s always taking notes and writing them up later. He¡¯s so meticulous sometimes it makes me sick. Surely he has some files I can use.¡±


    They opened the door and walked in.


    ¡°You¡¯re lucky he didn¡¯t use a lock or magic trap,¡± Arriane said.


    ¡°Nobody does that here,¡± Sammisa said. She walked over to the desk, which was empty of all paperwork. ¡°If something can get through the Oldest¡¯s wards, then our little locks and spells will be totally useless.¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t keep us out,¡± Arriane noted.


    ¡°Bah. We¡¯re staff. Oldest knows us all down to our last nightmare.¡± She turned to look around. Haran¡¯s office was a tidy place. There was a chest, a bookshelf, and a wall lined with cubbyholes filled with papers. She gravitated to the righthand side of that.


    ¡°I¡¯ll start here,¡± she said, rummaging through the papers. ¡°Ack! Trade agreements with some Brightwater merchant,¡± she said, scanning the first. That won¡¯t do me any good.¡± Taking a deep breath, she moved to another compartment. ¡°Where did Haran put that lesson plan?¡±


    They were so busy digging that they didn¡¯t notice the soft footsteps or rustle of cloth coming down the hall.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think any of these papers have anything to do with constructing magic missiles,¡± Arriane said. ¡°They look more like reports on agricultural production in Brissingham and other places in the west. Why would he be collecting data like that?¡±


    ¡°Monitoring political stability,¡± said a male voice. There was a hint of laughter in it. ¡°Why are you digging through my files?¡±


    The two women turned around to see an amused Haran leaning against the doorframe.


    ¡°Eek!¡± Sammisa hurridly stuffed the file she was looking at back in the cubbyhole.


    ¡°Haran!¡± Arriane said. She put the papers she had been looking at more carefully back in place, then turned around to face the Jinn. ¡°Where did you come from?¡±


    He shrugged. ¡°Where do you think? Willowick. I got to escape Sunderland for a few hours to talk with the Oldest and then I¡¯ll have to get back, and if I¡¯m lucky, I¡¯ll get to drink some of Ethne¡¯s excellent tea and eat some of his snacks. I¡¯ll be doing that every now and then from this time on until the operation is complete.¡± He stepped forward and rubbed the back of his neck. ¡°That explains me. But what about you two? I didn¡¯t expect to find you two lovelies ransacking my files when I returned. Is there something I can help you find?¡±


    Sammisa sucked on her bottom lip, embarrassed but no less needy. She lifted her eyes to meet Haran¡¯s still laughing ones. ¡°Your class notes. I¡¯m looking for your lesson plans, since you¡¯ve gotten out of teaching this season¡¯s classes. The Oldest surprised me this morning by giving the magic weapons class to me.¡± Sammisa blew a strand of green hair out of her face. ¡°I¡¯ve never taught it before. I¡¯m not exactly sure where to start. And I¡¯ve already made a mess of the first session. Save me!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m just here as her assistant,¡± Arriane said, shrugging. ¡°I¡¯m still learning what proper behavior for the inner circle is. It wasn¡¯t my idea. Did we do wrong?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure, Youngest.¡± This one pulled a real chuckle out of Haran. ¡°You two look like you got caught stealing books from Mannan the Bookseller. Normally, we don¡¯t go through each other¡¯s files without asking first. Sammisa, don¡¯t teach our little sister bad habits.¡±


    Sammisa crossed her arms. ¡°You are such a tease, Haran. You know perfectly well going through papers when the owner is out on assignment is acceptable. You¡¯ve done it to me before. How would I know that you¡¯d be coming back already?¡±


    He rubbed his chin in a mock gesture of pondering her words. ¡°I guess you¡¯re right. This time.¡±


    Arriane covered her mouth to hide a grin she was having trouble keeping off her face.


    Sammisa rolled her eyes, in no mood to take too much teasing. ¡°Would you please tell me where you put your teaching materials? I really need to get started planning the next class and to recover my credibility with that bunch of young know-it-alls.¡±


    ¡°You mean like you were when you were that age?¡± he asked.


    Sammisa growled. A slight magical glimmer began to rise from her body. There was something liquid about it.


    Haran held his hands up in a warding gesture. ¡°Don¡¯t hit me with that water blast of yours. Did you ask Ethne?¡±


    Sammisa stepped back on her left foot, and tilted her head, surprised. The magic glow subsided. ¡°Ethne?¡±


    ¡°Well, I knew I was going to be out for most of the term, or at least out more days than not. I talked it over with the Oldest, and she suggested I leave my lesson plans and materials with him. Nobody better for keeping up with things around here than the Oldest¡¯s assistant.¡±


    Sammisa let out a deep breath, took another, then looked up at the ceiling and pulled at her hair. ¡°Why did nobody tell me these things? I had to wing it through the first class meeting, almost in a panic. I hope the students didn¡¯t notice too much.¡±


    Haran chuckled. ¡°You do know you know everything you need to know already ¨C you can do everything you¡¯re going to ask the students to do. It¡¯s just intro magical weapon methods. You¡¯re well beyond that. I¡¯ve watched your workouts.¡±


    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean I can get it out of my head, and tell a group of students not only how to do it, but guide them in method.¡± She sighed. ¡°Come on, Youngest. Let¡¯s go see what Ethne has.¡±


    Haran watched the two women leave, and after checking to make sure his files were in order, he sat down at his desk, and pulled out the little notebook he had been carrying around to read through what he had noted while with the Dragonkin.


    This time, there was a knock on his door. He looked up to see Ruell standing there.


    ¡°Back already?¡± Ruell asked.


    ¡°Used a jump stone,¡± Haran replied. ¡°I can¡¯t stay long, but I thought you and the Oldest might want to know what I¡¯ve learned already. I¡¯ll have to go back soon, though.¡± He opened his drawer, and took out paper and his ink. ¡°Byrony thinks instead of jump stones, I ought to get a small military-style carriage. He thinks repeated exposure to naked no space isn¡¯t good for Aos Si.¡±


    ¡°He might be right. I¡¯ll see if I can arrange it, but no guarantee. Maybe the Birch might volunteer one.¡± Ruell grabbed a chair and pulled it next to Haran¡¯s desk, sitting down. ¡°So how was it in Sunderland?¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to find me a carriage. Byrony said they¡¯d have one for me by the time I get back.¡±


    Ruell¡¯s eyebrows raised at that one. ¡°Did you impress him that much?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s more like this is a very high priority operation and the purse strings have been very loosened. I got the impression that normally, the DIC runs on a fairly tight budget, but this has gotten approval from the President¡¯s office. They are taking all this very seriously, and the purse strings have been opened wide, which is useful, but I wonder about their methods.¡±


    ¡°What about them?¡± Ruell asked.


    ¡°Well, it seems kind of like controlled chaos. After spending all my adult like in the neat and orderly ways of the White Circle and rubbing shoulders with the ways of Ynys Afel, I¡¯m not used to a whole organization that acts more like a bandit town. Their attitude to authority...well it would get them into serious trouble working for anybody on the White Isle or in the King¡¯s court or army.¡±


    Ruell rested a hand on the desk. ¡°Are you trying to write a report?¡±


    ¡°Just enough of one to make sense of my notes. Even I¡¯m having trouble making sense of them.¡±


    ¡°You and your record keeping,¡± Ruell said. ¡°Anyway, never forget that Dragonkin do things differently.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Notice, as a race they have rich and successful people, with greed and accumulation a virtue among many, but they do have some sort of clan or extended family groups that they use to organize their endeavors around, but no nobility like Ynys Afel has. Anybody who has the passion, luck and connections can reach the highest levels. And because they have no military, they don¡¯t have the reflex for hierarchy the way we fall into.¡±


    ¡°That was pretty obvious the first day. The DIC does have ranks. They seem to be very independent within those ranks, and it¡¯s access to resource and who can help them advance that matter a lot. Even with all the competition between people at similar ranks, they still get a lot done. And it¡¯s not just the DIC. Look at the Dragon Web system. Even if they snipe at each other, they cooperate enough. Right now, they¡¯ve decided to break up into separate teams and investigate separate things that may or may not be connected to whatever it is going on.¡±


    Haran pulled one sheet of paper down, dipped his pen in the ink, and began writing some notes. Ruell watched him go back and forth from his notebook as he began to fill up the page. For a while, there was no sound but Haran¡¯s pen scratching across the paper and Ruell fidgeting, tapping on the edge of the desk, and shifting his legs.


    Haran finished one page, and moved it to the side. ¡°You can keep talking,¡± he said, turning the page in his notebook and beginning to write on the next sheet of paper.


    ¡°I was just wondering about your initial impressions of what¡¯s been going on,¡± Ruell said. ¡°Not about how they work together, but what¡¯s going on.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t know what, yet, really,¡± Haran said. He looked at what he had been writing, and scratched through the last few words. ¡°They still aren¡¯t sure if everything¡¯s connected - the disappearances, the attack on Redbeard¡¯s trading network, the attack on Financials, some other things. That¡¯s what they¡¯re supposed to be investigating now.¡±


    There was a gentle cough at the front of the room. ¡°I know you don¡¯t have the answers. Tell me some of your impressions.¡±


    Both men looked up. The Oldest was at the doorway, with Ethne right behind her.


    ¡°Lady,¡± Ruell said. He got up and moved a chair in front of the desk for her to sit on.


    ¡°So everybody¡¯s coming to visit me today? And I wasn¡¯t even supposed to be here!¡± Haran said. He put away his writing supplies. ¡°How did that happen? I wanted to write a report first.¡±


    ¡°Sammisa running into my office for your lesson plans gave it away,¡± Ethne said, putting down a tray. It was filled with a selection of both sweet and savory tidbits, and a fresh pot of tea. ¡°She told me of her little adventure trying to find your notes, and hammered me for not turning them over when I saw her earlier today.¡± He deftly poured several cups of tea.


    The Oldest picked up her cup of tea, swirled the dark amber liquid around, staring at it. ¡°That was my fault,¡± she said. ¡°I forgot about Ethne having the lesson plans when I gave her the assignment. She took a sip of her tea.


    ¡°Well, the start of the term always is a hectic time,¡± Haran said. He reached out and grabbed one of the snacks.


    ¡°True,¡± the Oldest said. ¡°Anyway, as I was saying, even though you don¡¯t have the true answers yet, tell me of your impressions.¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± Haran said, taking a sip of his tea, ¡°Ethne makes better tea than they serve at DIC headquarters.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, sir,¡± Ethne said, taking a little bow.


    ¡°Perhaps the attitude of the Dragonkin you were wondering about is rubbing off on you, Haran,¡± Ruell said. He reached for a savory off the tray. ¡°And after only a day!¡±


    ¡°Well, it is true. Every office in the building has some sort of tea service. It¡¯s served as a concentrate; you add hot water to get it to the strength you like. Although it¡¯s drinkable, it¡¯s nowhere as good as Ethne¡¯s brew.¡± Haran took another sip. ¡°What is going on? Nobody exactly knows. One pattern I noticed, though. Whoever organized or did the disappearances has been trying hard to blame B&F, even to the point of leaving false trails back to them.¡±


    ¡°Could be a vendetta,¡± the Oldest said, nodding.


    ¡°And I¡¯m not convinced the disappearances are really linked to no-space accidents. It¡¯s possible that the targets were chosen to get people to assume that. The light show of magic that happened with those that were witnessed doesn¡¯t happen with no space events. It¡¯s possible they were targeted for another purpose, possibly to cause bad feelings about no space research by non-Dragonkin people, or even more, to cast blame at the Transport sector.¡±


    ¡°Well, it has made researchers more cautious,¡± Ruell said, nodding. ¡°And possibly, it¡¯s been designed to undercut the DIC.¡±


    Haran raised an eyebrow, and rubbed his chin. ¡°An interesting point.¡± He grabbed his notebook, and scribbled something in it. ¡°I¡¯m going to run that one by Byrony. I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s occurred to him.¡±


    ¡°I think the DIC has a saying about fresh eyes seeing new things,¡± the Oldest said. ¡°Perhaps our eyes will indeed add a few things.¡±


    ¡°Another interesting thing or two. There are a lot of things pointing back to the region of Harani. A number of the false clues went back there. There have been some unexpected deaths from people loosely connected to the area. We yet don¡¯t have any firm connection to the smugglers and Brightwater, or even the unsanctioned jump stones the smugglers were trading in, and they¡¯re still trying to untangle the trouble in Meridae with the financial houses.¡±


    ¡°Such a tangled skein,¡± the Oldest said. ¡°I wonder if this has any connection to the Gray Lands. And of course, we know the Shadowlands have a role in this.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s another thing Byrony hasn¡¯t spoken of, but the recent murder over on a small mine there has gotten his wheels turning. I know the Jinn have a secret about the deep desert, but I never learned anything real about it, since we haven¡¯t lived in the Gray Lands for two generations, and the knowledge is reserved for those who actually live there. Couldn¡¯t tell you if there¡¯s a connection there or not.¡±


    Haran grabbed another treat off the tray, a small cake filled with spice and nuts, and snapped it in half. ¡°Oh, and that reminds me. One of Gan Thistleberry and Lady Elaine Allyns¡¯ old classmates has recently gone missing, and it may be connected.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± the Oldest said.


    Haran looked in his notebook, turned to one of the last written pages, then looked up. ¡°Her name is Violetta Greenleaf. An interesting person. She studied with both the Alder Branches and the Firesburners, and went to work for B&F right after completing her studies. She was evidently on vacation, and hard gone to the Harani region. The last time she was seen was at Runi Blahn, a small town near the edge of the Gray Land, and pretty much the closest bit of civilization to that mine Byrony is interested in.¡±


    ¡°Coincidence?¡± Ruell asked.


    ¡°We don¡¯t know yet.¡± Haran closed his notebook and slipped it into his pocket.


    ¡°Harani and Thistleberry. Odd coincidences We will certainly have some even odder stories to tell when this is all over,¡± said the Oldest. She grabbed one of the cookies off the tray, and took a big bite.

 Day 16 of the Warming Month

    Chapter 51


    The center of the Gray Lands is the Holy Mountain, where no person who is not called by the Mother of Smoke and Fire is allowed to tread. But the heart of the Holy Mountain is the Lake of White Waters, where Saena, Mother of the Peri makes her home. Fortunate is the one who gets a glimpse of her in the form of a great bird flying over the lands. Blessed is the Peri who is called to serve at her court.


    Tales of the Gray Lands   by Maire Windwood of the Alder Branches


    In a rocky enclave in the Gray Lands, at a camp site up on a rise well sheltered from any eyes that might happen to be patrolling the main road below, a piece of wood popped in a fire ring.


    ¡°How long will it take us to get to Aufzee¡¯s Freehold?¡± Violetta asked as she measured tea leaves into a metal teapot.


    Xhindi poked the fire, shoving more coals under the grill where he was cooking their breakfast ¨C bannock and a porridge of grain and berries and diced dried meat. About half the bannock were already done and resting on a plate, while the porridge was bubbling. He put down his poking stick and gave the porridge a stir.


    ¡°It counts,¡± he said.


    Violetta checked the pot of water she was heating for tea. Lifting a lid, steam came out, but the water was not yet boiling. She lidded it again.


    ¡°It counts on what?¡±


    ¡°On what Ashiri and Ruath find. Can we go there by the road, or are we going to have to take to the back country? By road it¡¯s about three days ride. The back country, well it depends on what route we take. But it¡¯s once we get to Aufzee¡¯s we¡¯ll have some real decisions to make. Do we trust going back to Runi Blahn, or do we dare try to make it to Gwinir in Harani, or even one of the towns in the Gray Mountains. All three ways are a long ride.¡±


    ¡°Aspen Heights has a really nice Dragon Web station,¡± Violetta said. ¡°I went there once on vacation.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s further from Aufzee¡¯s Freehold that Runi Blahn, and uphill,¡± Xhindi said. ¡°The Gray Mountains cover a lot of territory.¡±


    Violetta shrugged. ¡°Dragon Web travel makes everything feel close.¡±


    ¡°Maybe so,¡± he said. ¡°Most of my travels have been on gryphon back.¡±


    Ruath rode up to the campsite, dismounted, and joined the two at the campfire. He plopped down on the other side of Xhindi, crossing his legs and looking around for something to eat. ¡°Porridge¡¯s not ready yet?¡±


    ¡°Eat a bannock,¡± Xhindi said, pointing to the stack on the plate. ¡°So how was your scouting?¡± He turned over the bannocks he was cooking.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t see anything worth noting,¡± he said. ¡°Is the tea ready?¡±


    ¡°Almost,¡± Violetta responded. She pulled the lid off the water pot, which had started to boil, and poured it into the teapot.


    ¡°No travelers, no ravens? Nothing we need to avoid?¡± Xhindi said.


    Ruath snatched a bannock off a plate, and broke it in half. ¡°I didn¡¯t see anything alive, except a fox which was out hunting. It saw me first then dashed back into the brush. It felt natural, not touched by magic. Didn¡¯t notice anything else.¡±


    ¡°Nobody, eh?¡± Xhindi stirred the porridge one more time, and began to scoop it into bowls.


    ¡°It looked like it always does. Barren,¡± Ruath said, taking one of the porridge bowls. He dipped a piece of bannock into the hot dish and scooped some into his mouth. ¡°Not even mine claims until we get closer to Aufzee¡¯s. Country¡¯s too dry for even greedy miners. Even the desert rats have trouble finding food.¡±


    ¡°Thus it has always been. This stretch has always been a land of rock and dust, with very little water. This is why we carry so much. It¡¯s been left to the Gallu and the Lilu and vultures, mostly. No one else can handle the thirst.¡±


    ¡°If it¡¯s so bad, why is there even a road here?¡± Violetta asked.


    Xhindi handed a bowl of food to Violetta. ¡°That¡¯s a good question. It¡¯s usually only people like us who have a need to go who take this route, but Aufzee¡¯s Freehold has always been a rich site. It¡¯s big enough to be considered a town, has a dependable spring above the mine workings in a land where water¡¯s rare, and the people there are willing to pay for trade goods. It¡¯s almost surprising there¡¯s nobody on the road.¡±


    ¡°Not the first time we¡¯ve seen it nearly empty. Could be they just sold off a load of black opals. If that¡¯s true, it might be a while before anybody heads to Runi Blahn from there.¡± Ruath pulled out his spoon and bending forward over his food, began to eat his porridge in earnest.


    Violetta poured tea for the three of them, then began to eat. ¡°So that means we can take the road?¡± she asked in between bites.


    ¡°Maybe. We¡¯ll see what Ashira says when she gets back.¡± Xhindi pulled the last of the bannock off the grill, and added them to the pile. ¡°She¡¯s got ways to see things that Ruath misses.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t blame me if I¡¯m not a Peri,¡± Ruath said.


    ¡°I¡¯m not. You both have your own strengths.¡± Xhindi broke a bannock and dipped part of it into his tea.


    The three ate in silence. About the time Violetta got up to start washing dishes, Ashira rode up. She dismounted from her gryphon, and strode towards the three sitting down, her veil and shapeless robes fluttering as she strode. It was hard to read much from her face, since most of it except for the eyes was veiled, but there was concern there in how her eyes darted from Xhindi to Violetta and back.


    She sat down next to Xhindi, and warmed her hands next to the fire. ¡°There are Lilu up ahead,¡± she said. ¡°They wiped out a caravan near Grishi¡¯s Pass. Coming from Aufzee¡¯s, I think. It wasn¡¯t a pleasant sight. Recent, maybe in the last day or two.¡±


    ¡°I rode right by there,¡± Ruath said, frowning. ¡°I didn¡¯t see anything.¡±


    ¡°The Lilu saw you, though,¡± Ashira said. ¡°They had stashed the bodies in the rocks off the road. I could hear them chattering as you rode by, nervous that you would come between them and their prizes.¡±


    ¡°Where were you?¡± Ruath asked.


    She pointed up. ¡°Sometimes the skies give views that the earth doesn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re lucky that Lilu don¡¯t use bows,¡± Ruath said.


    ¡°And you¡¯re lucky they were too busy playing with their new toys when you rode by.¡± Ashira grabbed her bowl of porridge and a bit of bannock and walked over to edge of the camp, turning her back to the others when eating in the Peri way. She unveiled and began to eat her meal.


    ¡°Well that makes things tricky,¡± Xhindi said. ¡°We¡¯re short handed as it is, and I don¡¯t know if we have what it takes to clean out a Lilu nest.¡±


    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°They might still be too busy by the time we get there, if we hurry,¡± Ashira said between bites.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to take that chance,¡± Xhindi said. ¡°Ruath, Ashira, help me remember if there¡¯s another route that doesn¡¯t go over the pass. I guess we could take Zahara¡¯s trail from here. We¡¯re not far from it, but that¡¯s a lot longer route, and there¡¯s even less water on it. I was hoping to avoid it.¡±


    ¡°I vote for Zahara¡¯s, if you don¡¯t think we can fight. Shame Hazin couldn¡¯t stay,¡± Ruath said, warming his hands on his tea cup. ¡°Him and his clan call. We need him more than they do - he was always the best fighting the Lilu.¡±


    ¡°Clan obligations matter, Ruath, especially if you¡¯re the clan leader¡¯s nephew. He didn¡¯t grow up an orphan like you and he is bound with some serious ties. We have who we have, and we¡¯ll have to work with it,¡± Xhindi said, sighing. He got up to take his dishes to where Violetta was washing her things.


    ¡°I have a sword,¡± Violetta said, looking up at the Jinn. She wiped a fleck of dishwasher off her chin. ¡°And I know how to use it. I¡¯m not totally useless.¡±


    ¡°I never considered you useless, Violetta.¡± She reached out for his dishes and he passed them to her, then swatted down to look her in the eyes at a more equal level. ¡°But I¡¯ve worked hard to keep you alive so far. And you, woman, are far more important than clearing out a bunch of Lilu. If you weren¡¯t the Mother of Smoke and Fire wouldn¡¯t have come to you. Remember that. I know you have some skills, but you aren¡¯t trained as a fighter against these monsters the way we are. It would be better if we didn¡¯t try it.¡± He looked at the Peri. ¡°How many people did they take out?¡±


    ¡°I saw - ¡± Ashira began, then bolted up, throwing up her veil as she moved. ¡°Do you hear that?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t hear anything,¡± Ruath said, throwing a twig into the fire.


    ¡°I do,¡± Xhindi said. ¡°What is it?¡±


    The sound was soft, at first sounding like a low humming. It grew louder, and as it did, it changed, became more like the beating of wings.


    ¡°Who? What is that?¡± Violetta asked. She pointed to the south.


    The others looked up.


    ¡°Could it be?¡± asked Ruath.


    ¡°It could,¡± Xhindi said, standing up. ¡°I¡¯ve seen her twice before.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard of this, but I¡¯ve never seen it.¡± Ruath shielded his forehead and stared off at the horizon.


    ¡°There!¡± Ashiri said, pointing the same direction Violetta had pointed.


    On the horizon was the form of a great bird, massive wings glimmering with gold and blue. Following in its wake, was a whole flock of flying women, golden against the blue morning sky.


    ¡°Mother Saena and her hosts,¡± Ashiri whispered. She made a sign across her chest, then bowed her head in reverence.


    ¡°Who?¡± Violetta asked.


    ¡°The guardian of the Peri, daughter of the Mother of Smoke and Fire,¡± Xhindi said, as Ashiri did her obeisance. ¡°She lives on the Holy mountain by the Lake of White Waters, one of the most holy places in all of the Gray Lands. That¡¯s a long way from here.¡±


    ¡°My mother always told me just getting a glimpse of her in the sky is a blessing,¡± Ashira said. ¡°The few times I¡¯ve glimpsed her always did seem to be followed with good things.¡±


    ¡°We can use all the blessings we can get,¡± Xhindi said. ¡°But where is she going?¡±


    ¡°Could...could she be coming here?¡± Violetta asked, watching as the sky convoy grew closer.


    Xhindi¡¯s eyes grew wide¡­ ¡°If the Mother of Fire and Smoke came to you¡­¡±


    He didn¡¯t need to finish his thought. Suddenly the camp site burst into activity, as Xhindi barked orders to tidy up. Bedrolls were put away, camp dishes washed and stowed and what little waste they had produced over night was buried. That done, the group of four watched as the massive bird circled their camp site.


    As the bird gyred down, Ashiri and Xhindi fell to their knees. Violetta, though, couldn¡¯t help but keep her eyes on the descending figure. As she got closer, she began to glow with a radiance that shifted between the color of fire and the color of mid-day blue sky, and her wingspread shrank, reducing slowly into human size.


    By the time she touched down, all four of them were kneeling down ¨C her aura, while not demanding anything, gave off a feeling that acting with great respect felt like the best response, a vibration of being in the presence of something majestic and holy and far beyond the usual scale of being.


    ¡°Arise, children. You have nothing to fear,¡± she said.


    To Violetta, her voice was as warm and welcome as a spring breeze, comforting in its gentle tones, almost musical in its quality. A feeling of peace washed over her as she got to her feet. She looked up to see a beautific woman standing before her ¨C slender, with cascading red and black hair that reached to the ground, and eyes that glowed like twin flames. She was robed in in diaphanous blue, and from her back, reaching up like a halo framing her head was a pair of golden wings. She did not come alone. Behind her three Peri women stood, golden robed, wings displayed, spears at the ready. They were all three incredibly lovely, but their eyes were hard and determined. Anybody able to resist the charisma of the Lady would find themselves under immediate attack.


    One by one the other three of Violetta¡¯s party stood up. Ruath was the most affected. He gazed at Saena with large, amazed eyes, totally overawed. Xhindi made a sign of obeisance and bowed from the waist before straightening back up. Only Ashiri did not raise her head, as if she felt too unworthy of the presence in front of her.


    ¡°Dear daughter,¡± Saena said, ¡°you have nothing to be ashamed of.¡± She lifted the Peri¡¯s chin up with gentle, long fingers.


    At first, Ashiri clasped her eyes shut, but something in her softened under the Lady¡¯s touch, and after a moment, she opened them. They shimmered, almost to the point of tears, but also with wonder. ¡°My Lady,¡± she whispered.


    ¡°All Peri are my children,¡± Saena said. ¡°And you have followed the way all the days of your life. Do not worry what those who would judge things they don¡¯t understand, child. Your mother would be content on the road you have chosen, no matter what the others say.¡±


    ¡°Even my aunt?¡± Ashira asked, nodding.


    ¡°She deals with pain. Her heart has yet to heal after all that happened. Do not think dark thoughts of her ¨C but do not let her dark thoughts tell you are lesser than you are.¡±


    Saena moved to Xhindi. ¡°Such a noble hero, loved by our Mother. She has entrusted such an important jewel into your keeping.¡±


    Xhindi bowed his head at the praise, then straightened up, head held high, hand resting on the hilt of his sword. ¡°I will do my utmost to live up to her faith.¡±


    ¡°And you, little Ruath. Life has not been kind, but never forget, we do not forget you, even when you think all others have.¡±


    For some reason, this made Ruath blush, and he dropped his head. This in turn made the Lady smile even more, and she touched his shoulder with one long finger. ¡°An extra blessing for you on this mission. May it do you light when you are most wrapped in darkness.¡±


    He swallowed hard. ¡°Thank you, Lady.¡± His voice cracked.


    Finally, Saena turned to Violetta. ¡°Ah, Outlander. You have no idea, I think, of the weight you bear in your pack. We are sorry to give you this burden.¡±


    ¡°I understand that there are large stakes involved on my success,¡± Violetta said. ¡°More than that, it¡¯s personal. A person dear to my heart gathered the materials.¡±


    ¡°Yes, and he will stay gone, unreachable, until all is revealed. This world is too dangerous for him right now.¡±


    ¡°He will return?¡± Violetta said. Her voice betrayed a hope she had not let her heart feel in a long time.


    ¡°I cannot promise for sure. He has traveled a far, far distance, but I am sure he will return if he can. Thus he told me.¡±


    Violetta took a deep breath and nodded.


    ¡°But now that hope, and our hope for the future rests on you. And if what you have is not carried away to the right people, there will be no way to stop the seeker before he finds out what he is looking for. And once he finds it, he will give it to the people who will destroy everything. You are our hope. Complete your mission. Return to the land of your youth, and find your allies in old friendships. But do not unveil your burden until you are with them.¡±


    She rested a hand on Violetta¡¯s head. Violetta felt a magic current that coursed through her body. It felt like she was being filled by something warm and protective and soothing.


    ¡°I give you the blessing of Saena. It works best in this land, but perhaps, some time in the future, if you are in great need, call my name, and if I can, I will help.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, my Lady,¡± Violetta replied.


    Before anybody could say anything else, a Peri, one who was not part of Saena¡¯s honor guard, dropped down from the sky and knelt in front of Saena. Her garment was stained with blood, and at her waist was the ghastly head of a Lilu, rams¡¯ horns and all.


    ¡°We have done as you bid, Lady,¡± the Peri warrior said. ¡°I and my sisters scoured the road between here and Aufzee¡¯s Freehold. We found three nests of Lilu, a den with one Gallu, and an encampment of bandits.¡±


    ¡°And?¡± Saena asked.


    ¡°This morning at dawn, we took care of the bandits. The second squad hit the Gallu. The third squad took out two of the Lilu nests. The last nest I saw to personally. The road should be clear, at least for a few days.¡±


    ¡°Good, good,¡± the Lady said. ¡°Pick out a squad to keep things under control until my children here reach Aufzee¡¯s. Tell all who fought today to take honors. You have done well.¡±


    ¡°Our joy is to serve,¡± said the Peri, but it was obvious she was pleased. She stood up, and with a strong beat of her wings, she took back to the air.


    ¡°Lady,¡± Xhindi said, kneeling. ¡°What did we do to deserve this?¡±


    ¡°The Mother sent me here. She saw that your way was about to be troubled. It is my joy to serve as well. Be blessed, my children, our hope. Know you sit in my heart.¡±


    She too beat her wings, and took to the air, and after a stroke or two, she turned back into bird form, and with a final circling of the travelers¡¯ camps, flew back in the direction of the Holy Mountain.


    ¡°Nobody ever¡¯s going to believe this story,¡± Ruath said. He crumpled to the ground. ¡°I don¡¯t know if I believe it.


    ¡°Believe it or not,¡± Xhindi said. ¡°It¡¯s time to break camp.¡±


    Violetta though, stared into the sky for a long time. ¡°Halidin, are you just waiting?¡± she asked, then turned to get ready to travel.

 Day 16 of the Warming Month, Continued

    Chapter 52


    Those who can¡¯t fly will never understand the joy of wind and sky, of watching the land speed by in all its texture and shape. Feel sorry for the land bound. Never forget what a lovely treasure the Lifegiver gave you. And don¡¯t get so caught up in everyday life that you let your wings too weak to work.


    Aphorisms for a Quiet Life   by Ruddtha Redstone, Chairman of Toolets Manufacturing, Sunderland


    It was a lovely morning in Goblin Market ¨C not a cloud in the sky, and here in the town, it wasn¡¯t even that cool, even though it was still early spring.


    ¡°What a day for flying,¡± Umber Madrona said as he made his way out of the dorm room he lived in at the Dragon Web station. He headed towards the back of the complex where some people were already lining up to drop off shipments.


    Gob Hezney, the Spriggan porter who was his most common work partner was leaning against the wall, in his work apron and gloves, but still wearing the huge leather cap he could barely fit over his oversized head he favored when off duty.


    ¡°So off for the day with your lovely blue lass?¡± he said, giving the young dragonkin a big grin.


    Umber¡¯s spikes colored a little, but he nodded. ¡°We¡¯re going to meet at the park.¡±


    ¡°Better than meeting up in this dungeon,¡± the Spriggan said. ¡°You have a good time playing with the girl. Just remember what I told you about Dragonkin women. They can be, well...rather determined once they make up their minds about a fellow. Hope you have a good time.¡±


    Umber¡¯s spikes did more than color a little, and even a little pink reached his cheeks.


    ¡°That¡¯s enough out of you, Gob. Let the young one have a good day off for a change,¡± Gillin Jabot, the manager of the Freight department said. He placed his clipboard of the day¡¯s departures on his desk. ¡°At least he¡¯ll get to miss today¡¯s mess.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I hope he does,¡± Gob said, nodding. ¡°Get out of here, lad. We¡¯ll cope with whatever gets thrown at us.¡±


    Umber left, but as he left, he heard Gob shrieking at Jabot. He closed his eyes briefly, shook his head. ¡°Will they ever stop fighting with each other?¡± he asked.


    He walked on and soon, he left the sights and sounds of the Dragon Web station behind, and headed for the park where he had talked with Gan Thistleberry the day before. The young Dragonkin man felt amazingly free, maybe for the first time since he arrived in Goblin Market. That feeling was reflected in how he was dressed. Instead of wearing his usual DIC uniform, he was dressed in a casual outfit of a bright blue shirt, especially designed to allow freedom of wing movement and tan trousers. Around his waist was an expedition belt with a built-in bag of holding that held all sorts of things useful for taking on a flight ¨C rain gear, water, field rations, first aid kit, and a special little present he had picked up after his shift yesterday. He lifted his wings and gave them a good stretch. The shirt was just as advertised ¨C he felt no rubbing or constriction anywhere.


    Letting his wings relax back into place, he looked around the park. There was a Bauchan woman leading a child through the paths, and a Daoine man meditating in the direction of the morning sun, but no sign of Lana.


    ¡°I guess I got here a little early,¡± he said, and sat down on one of the benches to wait. ¡°On a day this lovely, waiting can¡¯t be a chore.¡±


    Suddenly, there was a light giggle as everything went dark. He felt warm hands covering his eyes and a soft, amused breath tickled his ears.


    ¡°Surprise!¡±


    Umber wiggled free and turned around to see a laughing Lana standing behind him, her now free hands covering her face trying to stifle the merriment she had at catching him off guard. ¡°I caught the mighty Investigator off guard!¡± Her blue ruff glowed at full attention with her pleasure, and something inside of Umber felt an unfamiliar but pleasant tingling at the sight.


    ¡°I looked for you, but I didn¡¯t see you when I got here,¡± Umber said. ¡°Where were you?¡±


    ¡°Well, I saw you!¡± she said. ¡°I hid behind that tree there. I wanted to see if I could catch you off guard.¡±


    ¡°You did indeed,¡± he replied, giving her a big smile. ¡°Are you sure you don¡¯t have any Gray blood line? That doesn¡¯t happen every day.¡±


    She looked down, and dragged her foot across the grass. ¡°Maybe¡­¡± She looked back up, the smile still plastered to her face. ¡°Maybe my grandmother was from an Investigator family. She was a Bloodstone.¡±


    ¡°Bloodstones are a good family,¡± Umber said, actually somewhat pleased at the knowledge. ¡°They¡¯re strong with the fade out of sight talent. I¡¯ll have to remember that maybe you can be as sneaky as me.¡±


    She nodded at his approval.


    Like him, she was dressed in traveling pants and a shirt made for flying, with an expedition bag around her waist as well. She also carried a dagger in a sheath on her belt. He reached into his pouch and found his own knife, and quickly added it to his belt.


    ¡°You look like you¡¯ve got some experience taking overflight trips. It¡¯s been a while since I¡¯ve done this last,¡± he said.


    ¡°You¡¯re not going to whimp out on me and need to come home early, are you?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Me? With you there? Never.¡± He spread his wings once again. ¡°Ready to fly?¡±


    She gave one more laugh, and launched into the air. His spikes glowed with happiness, and he quickly followed.


    >>>>>>>>> <<<<<<<<<


    The morning wasn¡¯t just beautiful at Goblin Market. At Pixie Hollow, Leila the Nymph sat in the warm sunlight in the front of Gan¡¯s cottage, wrapping her hands around a cup of tea, and closing her eyes, just letting the light pour over her.


    ¡°I wish I had a sunny face to my house like this,¡± she said. ¡°But I¡¯m too deep in the woods to get sunlight like this. I barely get enough for my little herb garden.¡±


    ¡°And roses. Don¡¯t forget the roses,¡± Dahlia said, flittering next to her. ¡°I love your roses. My best dresses come from them.¡± She landed on Leila¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Are any of them blooming yet?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a little early yet, Dahlia dear,¡± Leila said, taking a sip of her tea. ¡°Don¡¯t you remember last spring?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± the little Pixie woman said. ¡°What happened?¡±


    Just then, Gan stepped out of the house, with a tray of sweets and a small, folding serving table.


    ¡°Let me help you with that, Gan,¡± Leila offered. She took the tray from Gan¡¯s hands.


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    In just a moment, Gan had the table set up, the treats on the table, and a dozen Pixies hovering over the two women.


    ¡°Sugar cookies!¡± Moxie said, landing on the table next to the tray. ¡°Did you bring these, Leila?¡±


    ¡°No, not I,¡± the Nymph said, shaking her head. ¡°All I brought was a book and a question to ask Gan. I was thinking about going to Goblin Market, but the sunlight today is so wonderful, I might not leave this seat all day.¡±


    Moxie gave Leila a doubtful look, and she flittered up to look Leila in the eye. ¡°Why do they look just like your sugar cookies. You always have the best ones!¡±


    Rosebud, stretching like she had just woken up from a nap, drifted from the eave over the door to the table. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s because Mistress Gan got them from the same place Leila gets hers. I got to go there yesterday! I couldn¡¯t believe all the wonderful things they sell there!¡± She shook off her sleepiness as she got excited about her topic. ¡°So many types of cookies! Cake! Pie! And the bread! Enough bread to make a house out of.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think Master Ambris has quite that much bread,¡± Gan said, as she sat down and began to break up a cookie into small, Pixie-sized pieces. ¡°At least not enough bread to make a big person¡¯s house.¡±


    ¡°But he does run a very good bakery,¡± Leila said. She helped herself to one of the cookies, and dipped it into her tea.


    Moxie turned to Rosebud, her eyes narrowing in jealousy. ¡°How come you got to go with Mistress Gan and the rest of us had to stay home.¡±


    ¡°She fell asleep in my bag,¡± Gan said, handing a piece of cookie to Moxie. ¡°She wasn¡¯t invited.¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter!¡± Moxie said. ¡°It¡¯s just not fair!¡± She took a bite of her cookie. ¡°But this is so good!¡± She flittered over to Gan and landed on her shoulder. ¡°Thank you, thank you.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re very welcome,¡± Gan said, as she began handing out pieces of cookie to the rest of the Pixies.


    Leila was trying hard not to laugh at Moxie¡¯s indignation. ¡°Sometimes the Pixies remind me of the three Woodwives who live near me. Su, Lu and Du, all sisters, sometimes talk like that.¡± She took another sip of her tea. ¡°I¡¯m impressed with how you get along with the Pixies here. I wonder how you¡¯d get along with the sisters?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve never met any Woodwives,¡± Gan said, sipping her tea. ¡°Well, maybe I did when I was quite little, but I only have a fuzzy memory. I think I was intimidated.¡±


    Leila nodded. ¡°They can be rather pushy at times. I would imagine that would be hard for a small child. Not that they are much bigger than a child.¡±


    ¡°You could bring them with you sometime,¡± Gan said.


    ¡°Nooo!¡± Arne shouted as he grabbed a cookie crumb. ¡°The Woodwives hate me...er, Pixies!¡±


    ¡°You were rather mean to them, Arne,¡± Leila said. ¡°Sprinkling dirt and Pixie dust all over the laundry they had just washed. You¡¯re lucky Cullin came by when he did or you might have ended up in their cooking pot.¡±


    ¡°When was this?¡± Gan asked, looking hard at the little Pixie.


    ¡°Oh, it was years ago,¡± Leila said. ¡°They still talk about it though.¡±


    ¡°They let me fly by,¡± Dahlia said, taking a bite of her cookie. ¡°They even say hello and sometimes give me a flower.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s because you are nice to them,¡± Leila said, nodding.


    ¡°I was trying to make them a picture!¡± Arne said. ¡°It was a present!¡±


    ¡°I hope you don¡¯t try that on my sheets,¡± Gan said.


    ¡°He thought about it,¡± Moxie said. ¡°I gave him a shove when he talked about it.¡±


    ¡°Good girl,¡± Leila said. ¡°Anyway, you should come by and we can have a tea party with them. They¡¯d love that. They¡¯d especially love it if we could get Morvran to fly off on an errand when we did.¡±


    Gan laughed at that.


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Bu asked, still holding his piece of cookie uneaten. He pointed at the sky. ¡°I don¡¯t know that type of bird. It¡¯s not Morvran. There are two of them.¡±


    ¡°Hmmm,¡± Gan said, looking up. Two flying figures were making lazy circles in the sky.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t look like any type of bird,¡± Leila said. ¡°Look, they have legs...and arms.¡±


    One of the flying figures pointed at the mountains to the east of the valley. The other one began flying in that direction. Their passage was graceful and strong, and playful. It was obvious that one of the fliers was playing tag with the other.


    ¡°Dragonkin, I bet,¡± Gan said. ¡°I¡¯d sometimes see them flying for fun in Comrie. Wonder who it is? Are they from Goblin Market? Or Meridae on holiday?¡±


    ¡°Goblin Market is closer,¡± Leila said. ¡°Perhaps a couple from the Dragon Web station taking a day off?¡±


    Bu continued to stare long after the others went onto other subjects. He didn¡¯t stop staring until Hilby tried to steal his cookie. That started a whole other round of noise and activity, and the two Dragonkin fliers were quickly forgotten.


    >>>>>>>>> <<<<<<<<<


    At the Goblin Market DIC office, Jazlin, one of the counter workers, walked in, holding a small canvas pouch.


    ¡°Daily messages, Master Whitstone,¡± she said, with a cheery voice. Her female ruff blushed a little with an invitation to flirt, but Thornfield was in no mood to play.


    ¡°Thanks, Jazlin. Just drop it off on the desk.¡± He kept his nose buried in the book he was reading.


    ¡°If you say so, Master Whitstone.¡± The bag thudded lightly on the desk and she stepped back towards the door, but then paused.


    ¡°We¡¯re having a Dragonkin party in three days after work. Sheenna¡¯s reached her 2000<sup>th</sup> customer. I thought maybe you might like to come. Real Sunderland food and music.¡± Jazlin¡¯s ruff flashed between anxious and hopeful.


    Thornfield¡¯s spikes signalled annoyance, but he marked the page in his book and looked up at the young Dragonkin woman. He had no rationale for Jazlin¡¯s sudden attachment to him, but his curiosity lit up, and something a little dark inside of him wondered if she¡¯d be an interesting plaything. ¡°I¡¯ll think about it. Real Sunderland food? Beema style pasties?¡±


    ¡°Of course!¡± she said. ¡°Can you have a Dragonkin party without them?¡±


    ¡°Well...remind me the day of the party. I¡¯ll see.¡±


    She beamed at him. ¡°I¡¯ll be sure to,¡± then headed back out into the main room.


    Sighing, Thornfield got up, walked over to Umber¡¯s desk where the forms from the morning delivery were stacked for the younger Dragonkin to process after he got back from his day off.


    ¡°Rank has its privileges. Not that I¡¯ll ever get many more privileges than that, if they never promote me out of this job,¡± he said. ¡°Stupid DIC grays.¡±


    Sighing, he dumped the message pouch on Umber¡¯s desk. ¡°Just a little more work, my young associate.¡± He thumbed through the contents. Two updates to the DIC manual supplement. A wanted poster for someone who got into trouble with Perma Pharmaceuticals. A letter from his contact at Brightwater. That he slipped into his pocket.


    ¡°No telling what Zerish thought about Turbot¡¯s offer. I bet it¡¯s bad.¡± He shook his head. ¡°Why I ever get involved with that smuggler, I¡¯ll never know. Greed, the Dragonkin weakness.¡±


    There was one last message. A sudden jolt went through him seeing the paper. He picked it up gingerly and held the envelope in his hand. Official DIC stationary, straight from DIC headquarters. It was a rare day they got this type of messages. He ran a fingertip over the official seal. And it was addressed to Umber. From Commander Byrony¡¯s office.


    ¡°A personal message from that stupid kid from the Commander? What could those two be talking about? Especially on official paper? Got to be more than ¡®I saw your uncle at the latest get-together, and he asked me to say hang in there.¡¯ Could...could Umber have found out about my arrangements with Zerish and Turbot?¡±


    His throat tightened at the thought of that. ¡°DIC agents that get caught with their fingers in the cookie jar without permission usually end up in places worse than a little dump like Goblin Market. I won¡¯t, I won¡¯t go downhill.¡±


    That fear was quickly replaced by a bubble of resentment ¨C resentment that he was still stuck at a small DIC office, with no real chance of advancement, resentment at all the gray, old bloodline DIC regulars, with their connections and family ties who basically controlled the agency. Oh, he knew they had special talents that helped them rise in the ranks, talents he didn¡¯t have, but that didn¡¯t matter. Whatever urge he had to be an exception to the rule, to be a good investigator had died years ago when he never got another assignment but this one after his first year. And that had been a year from hell.


    And this wet, behind the ears Umber. Already, the staff at the Dragonweb station liked him better and were disappointed when Umber wasn¡¯t on duty. He had heard them complaining today. The Spriggan porter ¨C he grumbled the entire shift.


    ¡°Not my fault they were loading pots. It¡¯s not like I choose the load. He needs to take it up with Jabot. Bet he sends word he¡¯s sick this afternoon. Still mad at me for last Winter Solstice, when I crashed their party. What can he see in Umber?¡±


    Umber, related loosely to Master Investigator, and an orphan of the DIC, whose father had died in service so he got free schooling. His uncle a friend of the Commander. So idealistic, in that wet behind the ears way that all first years tended to be. He hated it every time they sent him a new first year.


    ¡°It cost my family a small fortune to get me into the DIC academy, and look where it left me?¡±


    At first it was rather amusing, as he piled the young man high with all the nastiest jobs, the most irritating work, all the filing. Thornfield¡¯s first year was hell ¨C and he wanted to share the experience. It gave him a dark joy to see the young man¡¯s spirit beginning to bend.


    But even that plan fell apart after the high and mighty Commander Byrony had borrowed him for a week for some special operation. Umber had come back full of confidence he hadn¡¯t had before. He didn¡¯t talk much about it, except to say what a great person Byrony was.


    ¡°Damn Bryony and everybody who is blood connected to Master Investigator,¡± he whispered. ¡°And damn Umber for being related to both.¡±


    He collapsed into Umber¡¯s chair, ignoring the pile of receipts from the morning shipment. He looked at the envelope once again. ¡°If I open it, all hell will break loose if they find out. But I don¡¯t have to give it to him. Maybe¡­¡±


    He picked the envelope up, walked over to the bookcase, and grabbed the DIC manual. ¡°Let him find it when he updates the manual. If he can.¡±


    Slipping the envelope into the massive book, he closed it, shelved it, and smiled.


    ¡°After that, I think I¡¯ll go get some lunch. I wonder what the special of the day is over at the Lunch House?¡± And whistling a little tune, he headed out of the door.

 Day 16 of the Warming Month, Continued 2

    Chapter 53


    Three things that can bring joy or disaster: The attention of friends, the comings and goings of neighbors, the ways of new love. Choose wisely.


    Aphorisms for a Quiet Life   by Ruddtha Redstone, Chairman of Toolets Manufacturing, Sunderland


    In the green wood of Cullin¡¯s Forest, a large black raven circled round, and landed on a maple branch. He noticed a man under the tree, looking up at the sky.


    ¡°So what are you looking at?¡± Morvran the Raven asked.


    Cullin sat at the edge of his forest, near the boundary between his realm and the King¡¯s Highway, but also close to Pixie Hollow. He ignored the raven for the moment, wrapping himself deeper in his mossy green cloak.


    ¡°I mean, you¡¯re spending a lot of time here lately. Birch Woman was wondering if you even cared about the forest any more. ¡®It¡¯s been so long since he came to watch me dance,¡¯¡± Morvran said, doing a passable imitation of the Birch Woman¡¯s voice.


    ¡°Bah,¡± Cullin said, leaping to the ground. ¡°She¡¯s just mad that after she punched Rusty that the fauns have been afraid to be her audience.¡±


    Morvran followed, landing on a branch near Cullin¡¯s head height. He picked at a leaf, then let it go. ¡°And I visited the nymphs down at Willowrock yesterday. They gave me lots of snacks and told me you haven¡¯t checked on them in a month.¡±


    ¡°Not true. I was there three weeks ago, telling them to leave the Old Oak alone. They were teasing him again.¡± Cullin started to walk along the boundary between Pixie Hollow and his forest.


    ¡°You know he loves all that attention,¡± Morvran replied. ¡°I don¡¯t know why you make such a big deal about it.¡±


    Cullin turned and looked at the bird. ¡°You know why. It¡¯s not good for him. He gets all excited when they rub up against him and his sap runs too fast. I had to heal another split in his wood after their last visit.¡±


    ¡°And Fanke was complaining that her man Salvange was off visiting ¡®that Huldra woman¡¯ again.¡±


    Cullin sighed. ¡°What the Woodwoses do with their personal life is beyond my scope. It¡¯s enough I give them sanctuary from all the other fey that pester them. Daoine Si don¡¯t like Wild Folk like them. Although I could talk to Uldra, I guess.¡±


    Morvran gave a little so what caw. ¡°Maunzi the Bush Grandmother told me she wanted to meet Mistress Gan. Something about trading herbal recipes. Said you¡¯re hiding Gan from everybody.¡±


    ¡°I am not. I can¡¯t help it if Maunzi can¡¯t leave the forest. She should send Gan an invitation. I¡¯m sure Leila would be happy to carry it to Pixie Hollow. Those two are thick as thieves any more.¡±


    ¡°Shared interests do that,¡± Morvran replied. He pecked at the branch he was sitting at. ¡°They like the same books.¡±


    ¡°Bah,¡± Cullin said. ¡°Stupid romances.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s enough of the news,¡± Morvran said, leaving his branch to land next to the Tree Shepherd. ¡°So you never told me - what were you looking at?¡±


    ¡°A pair of Dragonkin flying. You didn¡¯t see them, O Raven who seems to know everybody else¡¯s business?¡± Cullin tugged his hat down.


    ¡°Dragonkin? That¡¯s unusual,¡± the raven said. ¡°Mostly expect them to travel by no space.¡±


    ¡°Not everything is at we expect it,¡± Cullin said. ¡°But I have work to do myself.¡± And invoking his power over the forest, Cullin was gone.


    ¡°Damn, I hate how he does that. I wonder where he went this time.¡± Morvran rose into the air and started looking.


    >>>>>>>>>>>>>> <<<<<<<<<<<<<<


    Umber looked down at the ground below him. There was a vast forest to the south of where he was flying, with only a few breaks of meadow and water carved out. It filled the valley of the Glint river, up to a tall ridge of rock on one side and a tall stand of mountain on the other end.


    ¡°That¡¯s Cullin¡¯s Forest. It¡¯s what stands between Allynswood and Meridae,¡± Lana said. ¡°Don¡¯t ever leave the King¡¯s Highway if you have to travel through it. The Tree Shepherd who guards it is very protective of it, and requires permission to enter it.¡± Lana veered to the left, circling away from the vast wooded expanse.


    ¡°And I thought the area around Goblin Market was green,¡± Umber said, following her lead. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen so many trees.¡±


    ¡°It brings it home just how different from Harani this part of Ynys Afel is. We know it, but until we see it from the sky, it¡¯s not really real, you know?¡± she said. ¡°That¡¯s why I wanted you to see it.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m kind of amazed,¡± he replied.


    The ground below them began to change as they left the forest behind them. The river glinted in the sunlight of this perfect spring day, and the woodland gave way to many patches of farmland, many with workers in the fields. On hillsides, cattle grazed, or sheep. In places, there were horses in pasture. In most places, people lived clustered in villages. Only a few farmhouses were isolated, although small structures, shepherd¡¯s shacks and the like, were scattered in the hills.


    A thin line of travelers were strung out along the King¡¯s Highway, a group of walkers, here, a cart or two there, a few people on horseback scattered among them. None of these were in caravans, which said something about the safety of the area. Most were traveling north, towards Goblin Market, only a few heading south.


    ¡°Not many people on the road to Meridae,¡± Umber noted.


    ¡°Why should they? The Dragon Web makes that a waste of time. It¡¯s longer and harder to ride or walk, and you have to deal with a really irritable land fay. I bet most of the people heading south are going home, or perhaps are peddlers. I know there¡¯s one named Piter that even trades with the Tree Shepherd. Now that takes some guts.¡±


    ¡°What does he do, eat tresspassers?¡±


    ¡°Worse,¡± Lana says. ¡°He throws stinking mud at people. If you get hit, the smell can linger for weeks.¡±


    Umber guffawed at that one.


    ¡°Don¡¯t laugh. I got to smell some of it once...a woman in town was trying to find a way to get it out of her husband¡¯s work smock. It was three weeks after the event, the mud was all washed off. In fact it had been washed at least six times, in everything she could think of. And it still smelled like a rotting gryphon blended with a tub of dung that had been perfumed by a skunk. I think she ended up burning the smock. And it was over a week before she¡¯d let her husband come in the house. Really, really foul.¡±


    ¡°Then how does anybody in the forest get to deal with the few traders that venture out?¡± he asked.


    ¡°I hear there are places set up. If someone wants something, they leave a token. The trader touches the token, and then the Tree Shepherd arranges the sale or brings the person to where they can do it. Or something like that. Piter wasn¡¯t very clear.¡±


    As they flew, a large isolated spire of red stone began to rise on the horizon and they headed for it.


    ¡°Guess what the locals call that?¡± Lana asked, her smile impish.


    If he hadn¡¯t been flying, Umber would have shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Red Rock?¡±


    ¡°Exactly. You¡¯re quite smart, my handsome young Dragonkin,¡± Lana said, with a nod of her head. ¡°Most of the place names around here are not very imaginative. It¡¯s about the halfway point between Goblin Market and Cullin¡¯s Forest. If there wasn¡¯t already a village not very far from here called Halfway, that¡¯s what the locals probably would have named it. It¡¯s locally famous for its spring of good water. Some say you can even use it to tell your fortune. But there¡¯s a clan of Pixies that live near it, so the locals might water their horses and oxen while on the road, but none really like to linger there. Who knows what the Pixies will do?¡±


    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    ¡°Huh,¡± Umber said. ¡°I met a Pixie yesterday. She said I look like a lizard.¡±


    That made Lana laugh, a bright, cheery sound. ¡°A lizard, eh? Tells you what she knows, my lovely bright eyed Gray friend. At least I know she won¡¯t be in competition for your attention. How did you meet her?¡±


    ¡°She was traveling with a woman I met who moved into one of Lady Elaine¡¯s farms. They¡¯re old friends, I believe.¡±


    ¡°Ah, you must be talking about Gan Thistleberry. Everybody¡¯s been talking about her at the station. To think that she chose to live in a place with a Pixie colony! And the word is that it¡¯s working out just fine.¡±


    ¡°It takes all types,¡± Umber said.


    Lana nodded. ¡°It does indeed. Now, unless you want to take a rest and try out the spring, let¡¯s go there next.¡± She pointed to a mountain that rose up behind the area of Goblin Market. ¡°There¡¯s the place that¡¯s most like the mountains at home I¡¯ve found around here. That¡¯s the place I thought we¡¯d have lunch.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t need to stop,¡± Umber said.


    ¡°Good,¡± she replied, and circling around the spire of red stone, and headed towards Lana¡¯s goal.


    >>>>>>>>>>>>>> <<<<<<<<<<<<<<


    Cullin moved to the far side of his forest, where it began to rise up to the Whiteheart Mountains. It was a land of small rivers and hidden valleys coming out of the limestone the mountains were named after. He stood on a rise, overlooking a narrow valley that had a cascading stream running down the center of it. It was lush with vegetation ¨C willow and alder near the stream, oak and birch and beech elsewhere, with scattered pines further up the slopes. From where he stood, he could see a place where the stream broadened out behind a beaver dam. Some bullrushes had pushed up along its edges.


    ¡°It¡¯s a lovely place, is it not, my valley?¡±


    Cullin turned around. In front of him stood an ancient fey woman, perhaps the oldest he¡¯d ever seen, older even than Lady Sulis who was born long before the Sundering. Short and thin, her hair was pure silver white, hanging loosely down her back and across her shoulders, uncombed and a little wild, but her eyes were clear sapphires. She had lived long enough to grow grandmotherly in appearance, that itself took millennia for the Daoine Si, but he was not even sure if she was one of them, only she had been here in this valley before Lady Sulis had given him the guardianship of the forest, and she looked just as old then as now.


    Around her neck she wore string after string of amulets over a robe that seemed to be strings of leaves and vines over an inner robe of white wool, and in her hand she clutched a staff topped by a large crystal point with glowed with power. Bags stuffed with various things, some seeming to be weighty, some far less so dangled from a belt made of silver shaped like twisted vine.


    ¡°Did you know I was coming?¡± Cullin asked.


    ¡°Nay, even Auld Annie can¡¯t keep up with the likes of you, young Tree Shepherd.¡± She lifted a basket she had in her other hand. ¡°Twas up here collecting herbs that don¡¯t grow down below in my valley. Though,¡± she continued, ¡°I am not shocked to see you. The forest has been...restless recently. What has disturbed your soul?¡±


    ¡°Change.¡± Cullin sighed.


    Auld Annie gave him a gentle smile. ¡°All things change, son. Even in this forest of yours things change. Winter gives way to Spring, Spring to Summer, Summer to Autumn. Trees sprout from their seeds, grow towards the heavens, and then fall when the gales blow. It is the way of the world. There¡¯s naught you can do to stop it.¡±


    ¡°Like I can¡¯t stop Maunzi the Bush Grandmother from complaining every time you step out of your valley to collect herbs. I suspect she¡¯ll be sending me word any time now.¡±


    ¡°She does that still?¡± Auld Annie shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ve been combing these hills for herbs before she was a sprout. Before her dame before her was a sprout.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve told her that, and that Lady Sulis reaffirmed your right to do it, too. Doesn¡¯t seem to matter.¡±


    ¡°Bah,¡± the old Fay said. ¡°She¡¯s just jealous of my herb lore. She tries to lead the forest people to believe nobody knows more herb knowledge or can make better medicines than she does, but she knows I have more formulae and a deeper knowledge about the ways of growing things than she¡¯ll ever have. I¡¯ve caught her redhanded trying to copy my grimoire, and since that day, she¡¯s been complaining to everybody who¡¯ll listen about what a mad, untrustworthy person I am.¡±


    ¡°You should have told me about it,¡± Cullin said.


    ¡°Why bother? I outlasted her dame before her, and I¡¯ll outlast her, too. Time will bring all the peace I need. But you, son, you look in need of peace yourself.¡±


    ¡°Someone new moved into Pixie Hollow,¡± Cullin said.


    ¡°And they weren¡¯t run out by that host of Pixies living there?¡± Auld Annie tilted her head. ¡°They certainly gave the last person there a run for his money.¡±


    ¡°No. She¡¯s a wise one, and the Pixies love her.¡±


    ¡°So that¡¯s change one, and from the sound of it, a good one.¡±


    Cullin pushed his hat back a little, revealing his eyes to the old Fey. ¡°And Leila loves her, too.¡±


    ¡°Leila can read the heart of anybody, and if she approves, then you have no reason to fret, son.¡± Auld Annie shrugged.


    ¡°Then Lady Sulis came by and asked me to take her under my protection. She believes Gan is under the hand of Fate for some purpose. She didn¡¯t know what for, but that it was important.¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± Auld Annie said. ¡°You don¡¯t know how to juggle keeping an eye on Pixie Hollow and your forest both. I take it that Lady Sulis hasn¡¯t told this Gan anything about what her magic showed her?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think so,¡± Cullin said.


    ¡°Auld Annie cannot rebalance you, young Tree Shepherd, but I would remind you that it¡¯d be a rare thing for Lady Sulis to leave you as her only protector. She¡¯s always been a thorough one, even when she was a child. Set your priorities. Talk to that Leila of yours, and see what she thinks. Enlist that stupid crow of yours, maybe.¡±


    She reached up and rested a hand on his shoulder. ¡°Here, take my blessing. May it help you see light where you need to see it.¡±


    As she rested her hand on him, a strong flash of Fay magic, old and mighty and deep with power washed through him, and for the moment he floated in an ocean of peace.¡±


    The moment was broken by a shrill voice.


    ¡°I knew I sensed you, you old hag. What are you doing in my herb lands?¡± Maunzi the Bush Grandmother came bursting into the area the two of them stood. She was short, shorter than Auld Annie. Her hair was an old green, and her dress was made up of moss. She lifted up her staff threateningly, then saw who Auld Annie was talking with.


    ¡°My Lord, I apologize,¡± she said, lowering her staff and bobbing her head.


    ¡°Maunzi, did I not tell you that Auld Annie has a right to be here?¡±


    ¡°Yes, my Lord,¡± she said, sighing. ¡°But she takes all the best herbs and leaves us the trash.¡±


    ¡°You call this all the best?¡± Auld Annie said, thrusting her basket under the Bush Grandmother¡¯s nose. ¡°I barely took anything. Go look for yourself. Sorry, young Tree Shepherd. This old woman has better things to do than listen to this woman bark.¡±


    She made a gesture with her hand, and all of her, basket and staff included began to glow with a silvery light. It got too bright to look at, and then faded. When Cullin could look again, she was gone.


    ¡°Maybe I just should have put up with Morvran¡¯s chatter,¡± he said. Taking a deep breath, he used his power, and went elsewhere.


    >>>>>>>>>>>>>> <<<<<<<<<<<<<<


    ¡°Welcome to Zaran¡¯s Peak,¡± Lana said, folding her wings. ¡°Queen of the Whiteheart mountains.¡±


    Lana had led them to a flat platform of rocky ground on the dryer side of the mountain. The edge dropped off in a sheer drop that would kill anybody who didn¡¯t have the gift of flight. They were up high, but not above the tree line, but what trees there were were few and constrained by the rocky soil and the lack of moisture. Above them, the mountain continued to rise, rocky and wild. There was a little snow on the upper reaches, in gulches and shaded areas still, but it would be hard to call it white capped. Spring grasses and a few wildflowers grew where there was enough soil to support them. Otherwise, bare rock outcrops covered the landscape.


    ¡°This is where you go when you want to get away?¡± Umber asked.


    Lana nodded, finding a stone to sit on. ¡°Isn¡¯t it wonderful?¡± She reached into her carry pouch and began pulling out items. First was a cloth for their picnic lunch, a bright cloth in red and white checks. Next was a small touch stone stove, and a pot to heat water.


    Umber watched her with some amusement as she laid out a feast of meat pies, fruit, soup and sweet cakes.


    She caught his look as she prepared. ¡°Flying like this is hungry work.¡±


    There was something in her movements, the little aside glances she sent his way, the way her ruff showed her happiness that dazzled him, and he took a deep breath at the sight.


    ¡°The tea will be ready in a minute,¡± she said, checking her little pot.


    ¡°I¡¯m not in any rush.¡± He gazed at her steadily. ¡°The scenery is so lovely.¡±


    She saw how his eyes were focused on her, and her ruff glowed even brighter. Dropping her head a bit, she patted the area next to where she was sitting. ¡°You can come over here, you know.¡±


    Umber got up and sat next to her. She handed him a cup of tea. He looked at it, staring into its depth, uncertain if it was an obstacle or a life line. Not certain what to do, he took a sip. After a moment, he found his tongue. ¡°How did you find this place?¡±


    She grabbed the tray of meat pies and offered him one. He took it, looked at it for a moment, his mind distracted by having both hands full.


    ¡°Oh, my first few months here, I got horribly homesick. Not that I wanted to go back to my family so much, but like you, all the green got to me. I started flying on my days off.¡± She picked one of the meat pies and took a bite. ¡°I flew everywhere for a while, almost to the Inner Sea, almost to Meridae. I stopped on the King¡¯s Highway while crossing Cullin¡¯s forest, and met the peddler Piter, who told me never ever to land in the forest and why. Eventually I started exploring the mountains. They¡¯re so green on the Goblin Market side, but over here, on this side, it¡¯s drier, and feels more like home.¡±


    Umber finally figured out where he could put his tea mug and began to eat his lunch. ¡°I missed seeing how big the sky was back at Goblin Market. Everything feels so closed in there.¡±


    ¡°Exactly! You do understand it all. I like that about you, Umber Madrona. You understand.¡± She inched a little closer to him. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you a secret.¡± She almost breathed into his ear, sending tingles down his spine. ¡°I¡¯ve never shared this secret spot with anybody else. Only you. I was waiting for someone who would really understand.¡±


    Umber gulped, and quickly grabbed his tea, taking a swallow. He turned his head to look at her. ¡°I feel...honored. That you would share something this wonderful with someone like me.¡±


    ¡°You are special, too,¡± she said, resting a hand lightly on his shoulder. ¡°Don¡¯t let people like that awful Thornfield make you not believe in yourself. I see wonderful things in you.¡±


    Suddenly, as if it had a life of its own, his arm wrapped around her, and snugged her close to his side, and she rested her head against him, contentedly.

 Day 18 of the Warming Month

    Chapter 54


    Never undervalue the ebb and flow of personal connections. Friend one day, enemies next, ulterior motives hidden under a smiling face or a dropped innuendo. Gather them all and see what they reveal.


    DIC Manual of Operations


    With most of the investigation teams out in the field, there wasn¡¯t a lot of activity or noise in the big war room that Master Investigator set up. Off to one corner, surrounded by multiple file boxes, Rust was keeping busy; it seemed like invoices from the people in the field came in every few hours, and the accounts were always being updated. The soft clicking of her abacus was a gentle background to the other comings and goings in the room.


    Byrony stepped out of his office, and looked around the room, spotted Haran sitting down at one of the tables with a set of papers surrounding him, bent over and writing something. First, he stopped by the tea service, filled his mug, then bee-lined over to where the Jinn was working.


    ¡°Having a good time?¡± he asked.


    Haran looked up. ¡°History. Reviewing other times that Gandaran signaled that something wasn¡¯t right.¡±


    ¡°Learn anything?¡±


    ¡°Your people have a weakness to greed and power grabbing. Ours do too, but we don¡¯t have a full scale dragon to tell us in advance when things are dangerous.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a mixed blessing,¡± Byrony said, sipping his tea again. ¡°But it has bought us a long time of peace. Worth something.¡±


    ¡°You have something in mind you want me for?¡± He made a note in his journal.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go check in at the library,¡± Byrony said, watching the meticulous Jinn note where he had left off.


    Haran looked up. ¡°There¡¯s something I should learn there?¡±


    ¡°Possibly,¡± the Dragonkin said. ¡°But I really want to see what sort of trouble Tobris and Lero are doing there. I know she¡¯s wanted to enhance searching there for a long time, and Lero¡¯s got the brains to figure things out, but it¡¯s been too quiet in there lately.¡±


    ¡°Maybe they¡¯re just working well together,¡± Haran said, writing his last words. He closed the journal and stood up.


    ¡°It¡¯s possible, I guess.¡± Byrony shrugged. ¡°But Tobris is so rules bound and Lero is so willing to break all the rules while he¡¯s tinkering with new toys.¡±


    ¡°It could be he¡¯s making just the toys she wants.¡±


    They began walking out of the war room and into the labyrinthine hallways that marked this part of the DIC. Byrony stopped in front a large set of brass doors, and pushed one open.


    Inside, they walked into a huge room that had pools of light in the center, but shadow along the walls lined with chests and books and file boxes. There were doors spaced at regular spaces, with what Haran found to be cryptic labels: Trans Third Pres , Ex Second Pres, Pharm Third Pres, and so on. He guessed they were the records of the various segments of Dragonkin economy organized by administration. Whatever else was in a separate wing was out of his eyesight.


    ¡°A lot of records here,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m impressed.¡±


    Tobris, neatly dressed in her DIC uniform, was bending over a table, in a bright pool pool of light, with Lero next to her. She turned up to look at the newcomers at the sound of Haran¡¯s voice. Her ruff was noncommital and flat to her head, a sign of concentration and calm emotions. ¡°We have a saying at the DIC. You can¡¯t spit without filling out a report. Thus, the paperwork builds up.¡± She laid something Haran couldn¡¯t quite make out on the table. ¡°Welcome to the archives.¡±


    Lero, wearing some sort of goggles over his eyes, put down a long, thin tool. Pushing his goggles up, he looked at the two men, then grinned. ¡°Hello, Byrony. Come to check us out?¡±


    ¡°Something like that.¡± Byrony and Haran moved closer. ¡°I was almost afraid that Tobris would have stabbed you with a pen by now.¡±


    Lero snorted. ¡°Not when there¡¯s so much to do.¡± He looked at Tobris. ¡°Right now she keeps finding new things for me to do. I¡¯ve been constantly busy. There hasn¡¯t been any time for me to get on her nerves.¡±


    ¡°He is being exceptionally helpful. Come see what he¡¯s managed to make for me,¡± Tobris said. ¡°This is will make our job here in the archives so much better!¡± She held up a rather thickish rod, ¡°Come see, Commander.¡±


    Byrony and Haran moved up to the table. Tobris had a set of old reports set up in one stack. Next to it, she had a number of blank sheets of paper. She handed the rod to Byrony for his inspection. It was heavier than it looked, about a foot long, and contained a red and a green touchstone on opposite ends.


    ¡°Ever seen one of these before?¡± Byrony asked passing it over to Haran. The Jinn shook his head after running his fingers down its length.


    ¡°Not at all. What does it do?¡± He passed it


    ¡°It¡¯s related to something we use to make maps,¡± Lero said. ¡°Now those devices are much bigger, and attached to a stand, but I thought if I could modify the device into something handheld, the archive workers could find it very helpful.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re damn right it¡¯ll be helpful. I¡¯ll never have to worry about you ham-handed DIC investigators ruining my originals again,¡± Tobris said. ¡°Let me show you what it does.¡±


    She punched the red touchstone, and the device began to hum and glow slightly.


    ¡°It didn¡¯t need the sound and light,¡± Lero said. ¡°But I thought it would be better if people knew it was on.¡±


    ¡°With the people working here, that¡¯s always a good idea,¡± Tobris said. ¡°We don¡¯t always get the first class workers here in Archives.¡± She shot Byrony a hard look.


    He put up his hands. ¡°Don¡¯t look at me! I¡¯m not in charge of personnel.¡±


    She shrugged. ¡°Well this device might make Logistics happier. I won¡¯t need as many scribes to copy things. Let me show you how it works.¡±


    Taking one of the written on pages on her table, she rolled the rod down the length of the page. She put that one back in its stack when she was done, then took a clean sheet of the same size and laid it on the table. Carefully placing the rod at the top of the page, she clicked on the green touch stone, and began to roll the rod down the length of the page. Briefly, the page glowed green, then a black fog developed, then suddenly, it cleared, leaving behind a copy of the first page. She lifted them both up for Byrony¡¯s inspection.


    ¡°An exact copy! And done in about the time it¡¯d take for me to take out my ink bottle and pens.¡± She almost glowed with excitement.


    ¡°Is...is that how you made the texts about Gandaran I was reading this morning?¡±


    ¡°Oh, it was you who requested that?¡± Tobris said. ¡°Yes, it was. If we hadn¡¯t had this,¡± she said, holding up the rod, ¡°You would have had to come down here, or wait until my staff could have written you out clean copies.¡±


    Lero snugged his goggles back on. ¡°You should have had that long before now.¡± He picked up his tool. ¡°And this sorter. I can¡¯t believe anybody is still using a piece of junk like this. It had to be installed here fifty years ago.¡±


    ¡°Try a hundred. Or almost, anyway. Before we got that, everything had to be sorted by hand.¡±


    He ducked out of sight to continue working on the device. There was a loud pop, and suddenly, a small column of smoke began to drift to the ceiling and Lero was thrown from the machine he was working on to land on the floor with a thud.


    Tobris and Byrony ran over to help him get up, but he waved them off and slowly pushed himself up. ¡°That¡¯s it,¡± he said. ¡°There¡¯s no way I¡¯m getting this old piece of crap to work. I don¡¯t even think they make the part that just blew up.¡± He pulled off his goggles, and there were circles of light, clean skin where they had been against the smudgy brown that colored the rest of his face. ¡°This sorter is dead. What¡¯s the DIC doing, trying to run itself on antiques?¡±


    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Fists clenched, he began heading for the front door of the archive room.


    ¡°Where are you going?¡± Tobris asked, a worried look on her face and anxiety coloring her ruff.


    ¡°To give Rust a piece of my mind. What in the world is Logistics doing, expecting things to work on such ancient gear?¡±


    Byrony stepped in front of him, blocking his passage. ¡°You better let me go talk to Rust. Sit down, and make a list of what you need, and what you want. I¡¯ll go prepare her for what¡¯s coming up.¡±


    >>>>>>>>>>>>>> <<<<<<<<<<<<<<


    Leila walked out of her house deep in Cullin¡¯s Forest. She had a table set up there where the light poured out through the branches of the trees overhead, and placed her basket on it.


    Off to one side of the clearing, the three Woodwives were already busy at work. Su was sitting at a large spinning wheel. Du was working at a skein winder, and Lu was bent over a heavy pot of boiling water where she was dying the white skeins into a lovely pale blue.


    As the nymph sat down and took out some embroidery she was working on, Su the oldest of the three noticed her, and stopped her spinning for a moment. ¡°Good morning, Leila dearest. Come out to work with the rest of us?¡±


    ¡°For a bit,¡± Leila said. She looked through her basket of threads, and selected a spool that was bright yellow.


    Du finished winding her skein, tying it with bright red threads . ¡°Morvran told me Habetrot might join us at the spinning today,¡± she said.


    Lu gave the dye pot a big stir, and then used the paddle to lift out a skein of blue yarn. Laying the paddle over the pot, she squeezed the yarn delicately before laying it down to dry on a drying rack. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t listen to anything that old raven says. Habetrot leave her sister spinners to walk through the forest just to sit with us? I don¡¯t believe it.¡±


    ¡°She might,¡± Leila said, cutting a length of the yellow thread. ¡°I did invite her.¡± She gracefully and skillfully threaded her needle on the first try.


    ¡°Did you?¡± Su said, in a disapproving voice. ¡°Why? Just because she thinks her spinning is the best in the forest¡­¡±


    ¡°No, no,¡± Leila said. ¡°It¡¯s not because of the quality of her thread. You spin one ever bit as fine, and if it¡¯s wool, finer.¡±


    Su relaxed a moment, letting the whir of her wheel slow down. She gave a beaming smile to Leila, and a knowing nod to her sisters.


    Leila picked up her embroidery hoop and made her first stitch. ¡°It has nothing to do about spinning. I¡¯ve been hearing rumors about the Birchwife. You know she makes her home not far from the place where Habetrot and her spinning sisters live, over on the other side of the Old Oak¡¯s hill.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s been hiding, not wanting to talk to anybody,¡± Su said.


    ¡°Ever since she punched the faun,¡± Du said, grabbing a fresh spool of thread from her sister¡¯s completed spools.


    ¡°It¡¯s not he didn¡¯t deserve it,¡± Lu said. ¡°But she¡¯s too embarrassed that our Lord Tree Shepherd chewed her out.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s chewed all of us out at one time or the other,¡± Leila said. ¡°That¡¯s not enough of a reason. She ought to be used to how he is by now. But maybe I should go talk with her.¡±


    ¡°Maybe,¡± Su said.


    ¡°Possibly,¡± said Du.


    ¡° I believe so,¡± said Lu. ¡°After all nobody reads hearts the way you do.¡±


    Suddenly the sound of a bell ringing ran through the yard. All four heads perked up.


    ¡°Ah, the peddler calls!¡± Su said.


    ¡°I wonder who left the token,¡± Du said.


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t me,¡± Lu said. ¡°We¡¯re still not through with our thread.¡±


    ¡°I hope he has some good embroidery threads,¡± Leila said. And folding up her work into her basket, she headed inside.


    >>>>>>>>>>>>>> <<<<<<<<<<<<<<


    At DIC headquarters, Byrony had a short but useful discussion with Rust about ordering the supplies for the Archives, a discussion that went much smoother than it would have gone if he had allowed Lero to come storming in with smoke on his face and anger in his voice.


    After that negotiation, he grabbed a cup of tea and collapsed at the table where Haran was doing his work.


    ¡°That copying device,¡± Haran said after Byrony sat down. ¡°I know there are people with the Alder Branches who would love to have a device like that. They¡¯re as crazy and protective of their archives as Tobris is.¡±


    ¡°Make a note of it in your notebook,¡± Byrony said. ¡°Then ask me again after we get the Archives settled. I¡¯m no good at remembering things that have practical value outside of what we do here. In making money,¡± he said with a mock sigh, ¡°I fail as a Dragonkin. As do most of the rest of us here. But not necessarily in Logistics, which is why so few Grays work there. If there¡¯s some profit to be made, those are the people who have the right connections to get it marketed.¡±


    Haran grinned at his partner¡¯s confession. ¡°Will do.¡± He pulled out his notebook, where he made a bit of a production of scribbling a note in pencil, even boldly circling it.


    Byrony leaned back in his chair and looked at the ceiling. ¡°We should be getting some early reports from the field teams any time now, It won¡¯t likely be much ¨C just preliminary checking off the easy stuff in their to-do lists. Getting a look at locations, doing initial analysis, first impressions before the real digging begins.¡± Leaning forward once again, he grabbed his mug and took a big swallow. ¡°I¡¯d really like to know what Yosh is going to turn up, but he might be the last team to do their first check in.¡±


    ¡°I get the impression if you¡¯d have had free choice, the work Yosh is doing is the assignment you would have taken,¡± Haran said.


    Byrony nodded. ¡°So that makes me more anxious. Are Yosh¡¯s eyes fresh enough? Are there things I missed? Plus I¡¯m a little jealous, having to be here and babysit, waiting for data. But I¡¯m also very interested in what Leda¡¯s team is working on ¨C figuring out the sourcing of the black market jumpstones. Reverse engineering, looking for traces, and checking on the ground for suppliers, makers...it¡¯s a job.¡± He stared off across the room, not really looking at anything, holding his mug, lost in thought. Finally he took a sip and said, ¡°Commander is not as fun as Field Operative.¡±


    ¡°Maybe that¡¯s why the Oldest has all the high level White Circle operatives teach classes,¡± Haran said. He picked up one of the papers he had been looking at before they went to the archives, and began looking at it again. ¡°Maybe to keep us in touch with the field, so to say.¡±


    ¡°I forgot she runs her place as a combination of headquarters and academy. You teach?¡± Byrony asked.


    Haran nodded. ¡°At least two classes a year. I got excused from this term to come over here. One of my co-workers got my class and I caught her raiding my office looking for my notes.¡± He grinned at the memory. ¡°Just basic Aos Si magic that she should have been able to teach standing on her head, but she¡¯s not as organized as me.¡±


    Byrony chuckled.


    Something struck Haran and he put his paper down. ¡°What do you think ¨C could it be a disgruntled employee from B&F gone into business for himself on the jump stone business?¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be shocked if that¡¯s how whoever¡¯s sourcing the smugglers learned to make them.¡± Bryony leaned forward in his chair and rubbed the back of his neck. ¡°But the bigger birds are what interest me most ¨C who¡¯s financing it? Where are they making it? Who are their contacts in the Shadowlands? Those are the questions that matter.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve been trying to figure that one out ourselves,¡± Haran said, nodding. ¡°We think it might be someone in Bertcha¡¯s organization, but no real proof yet. And we can¡¯t really make any moves until we have solid proof. Nobody wants a war with the Shadowlanders. Can¡¯t approach the Red Tower without a hard case. Aife would just laugh at us and unleash the hounds.¡±


    Byrony nodded. ¡°That wouldn¡¯t be good for Ynys Afel or Sunderland.¡±


    The door to the main room opened up, and Byrony and Haran both swerved to see who it was. Aspen, carrying a sheaf of papers, and Balston walked in.


    ¡°We thought we¡¯d drop off some of our paperwork while we were in the neighborhood,¡± Balston said. ¡°And to get the taste of B&F managers out of our mouths.¡± He hurried over to the tea service.


    ¡°You¡¯re working on Violetta Greenleaf¡¯s disappearance?¡± Byrony said. ¡°Before going over any of the cold cases?¡±


    Aspen nodded. ¡°We still don¡¯t know if it has any real connection besides coincidence. We did learn some interesting things about Mistress Greenleaf. She is a respected member of B&F¡¯s jump stone team. She¡¯s evidently pretty talented with working with touch stones. There are people there who are definitely worried about her disappearance. I¡¯m not sure if it¡¯s all because of her, or that she knew some of the jump stone trade secrets.¡± He handed the papers he had brought to Byrony.


    ¡°Not surprising. Probably some of both going on, knowing what a cutthroat place B&F can be.¡±


    ¡°Another interesting detail. Greenleaf¡¯s associate that disappeared at the attack several years ago at Xendo¡¯s Freehold. Dragonkin by the name of Halidan Graystone.¡± Balston came back to the table with his tea, and took a big sip.


    ¡°Interesting.¡±


    ¡°More than that. Seems Graystone and Greenleaf were something of a couple. There was a lot of talk. You know how unusual Dragonkin and Daoine Si pairings off,¡± Asper said, getting up to get his own tea.


    Byrony rubbed the tip of his nose. ¡°Is that why he left?¡±


    ¡°Some talk about it, but nobody really knows.¡± Asper shrugged. ¡°He wasn¡¯t asked to leave, nor was Greenleaf. Or so they say.¡±


    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t be the first person sent away for the good of the company. ¡°But notice they kept Greenleaf on staff, not him. Was she the better worker? And did he leave on good terms, I wonder.¡±


    Asper shrugged. ¡°Who knows what really happened? Couldn¡¯t pick up on any solid gossip.¡±


    ¡°And why would he go to the Gray Lands? What¡¯s his background?¡± Byrony asked.


    ¡°On his mother¡¯s side, he¡¯s from an old Exploration industry family. Most of them are in or near Harani. His father¡¯s side is a real minor Trade line. Odd background for someone working on jumpstones.¡± Asper returned with his tea.


    ¡°People don¡¯t always work in their parents¡¯ field, especially if they are younger siblings. My youngest brother ran away when the family tried to get him to go to the academy. He¡¯s happy making Blazendraught instead.¡±


    ¡°Takes all types,¡± Balston said. ¡°Still, a dismissed employee. Then the attack at the freehold, and then people start popping up missing. Could he be part of it?¡±


    ¡°Well, you and Yosh have something else to dig up,¡± Byrony said, steepling his fingers. ¡°Pass the information you have and find about Graystone to Yosh. It might help.¡±


    ¡°So we¡¯ve finished with Greenleaf¡¯s place of work and her schools. Figure it¡¯s time to touch base with Lady Elaine and that other school friend of hers.¡±


    ¡°Sounds like you¡¯re ready to hit Goblin Market.¡± Byrony nodded. ¡°Remember what we told you about Thistleberry¡¯s experience with the DIC. Check in with the first year man there. I¡¯ve written him about it. You can ignore most of the advice that Witstone, the local DIC head gives you. He¡¯s a dead-ender, and neck deep in borderline legal profiteering ¡±


    ¡°Will do,¡± Ballston said.


    ¡°Right after lunch,¡± Asper said. ¡°Our last chance for a decent meal before hitting the back country. And we¡¯ve got a lot of back country to cover.¡±


    Byrony rolled his eyes.

 Day 18 of the Warming Month, Continued

    Chapter 55


    Three things that make life worth going on: good drink, good food, and good friends.


    Aphorisms for a Quiet Life   by Ruddtha Redstone, Chairman of Toolets Manufacturing, Sunderland


    A familiar carriage drove up the roadway to Pixie Hollow trailing a cloud of dust. The noise and the dust sent some of the Pixies into the air, flying to hiding places.


    ¡°There are dragons coming up the road,¡± Bu yelled, running to the side of the building where Rob Woodway was working on Gan¡¯s vegetable patch. The little Pixie clung to the gardener¡¯s shoulder, the first safe place he could find.


    Rob stopped his work with a hoe in mid-stroke. ¡°Dragons?¡± he asked, leaning on the tool to get a better look at what might be coming up the road. ¡°I don¡¯t see anything scary.¡±


    ¡°Like the one you hitch to Mistress Gan¡¯s cart. Four of¡¯em. Pulling that big box! Don¡¯t let them eat me!¡±


    Rob turned his head to try to get a better look at the tiny man. ¡°Those are horses, Bu,¡± Rob said. ¡°They don¡¯t eat Pixies. They¡¯re like Betts. They¡¯d rather eat oats.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± the tiny man said. ¡°But they¡¯re big and noisy! Look how much dust the box is making! Are you sure they aren¡¯t monsters?¡±


    ¡°Pretty sure. Let¡¯s go see who it is.¡±


    As Rob moved to the front, a few of the other Pixies, their curiosity bigger than their fear, followed behind the gardener and Bu, but at a safe distance.


    Gillie laughed at Bu while she followed.


    ¡°I saw you panic!¡± she said, landing on Rob¡¯s cap. ¡°Just like a big baby!¡±


    ¡°Well I saw you fly to the top of the roof!¡± Hilby said, pointing.


    Gilly crossed her arms, and turned her face away from him in a huff. ¡°You only saw me because you were right there with me!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s enough of that,¡± Rob said, looking down the road. ¡°That looks like Lady Elaine¡¯s coach. Who¡¯s the madman driving it?¡±


    ¡°Someone who likes dragons?¡± Bu suggested.


    ¡°Horses, Bu. Those are horses.¡± Rob said. He looked up, trying to see the Pixie on his head. ¡°You go tell Mistress Gan who¡¯s coming.¡±


    ¡°Why not me?¡± Bu asked.


    ¡°You can go to, if it makes you happy. I want to talk to the driver.¡±


    Bu flew off.


    It took a few moments for the dust to settle after the carriage pulled up to a full start.


    ¡°I should have known,¡± Rob mumbled to himself once he made out the driver. Stepping up, he looked at the driver¡¯s seat. ¡°Hey, Brit, don¡¯t you know how to drive this thing without kicking up a dust cloud when you get near someone¡¯s house?¡± the gardener sometimes coachman asked, coughing slightly in the dusty air.


    Brit, a lanky brown haired Bauchan, pulled his kerchief off of his face. Dust had marked the upper part of his face, leaving him two-toned. He leaned over from the driver¡¯s perch, looking down.


    ¡°And a good morning to you, Rob Woodway. I see you have a bit of the dirt on you, too,¡± Brit said, noting the dirt on Rob¡¯s boots and knees.


    ¡°At least it¡¯s honest work-the-land dirt, and not stupid dirt. Didn¡¯t anybody ever tell you about the dust damper? That rod at your left hand, with the touchstone on it. Press it twice before going up someone¡¯s driveway. All the dust the horses kick up will settle down before your wheels touch it, and the wheels won¡¯t kick up any more.¡±


    ¡°Huh,¡± Brit said. ¡°They told me to use it if I get stuck in mud.¡±


    Rob rolled his eyes. ¡°That¡¯s if you press the touchstone once. Pay attention man. And give the horses some slack. You¡¯re not rushing to a fire.¡±


    He walked over to the side of the carriage, and opened the door. ¡°Are you all right, Lady? Brit, well he¡¯s more used to hay wagons than coaches.¡±


    Elaine nodded, while holding a handkerchief up to her nose. ¡°Is it safe to get out yet?¡± she asked.


    ¡°I think so,¡± Rob said.


    She reached out her hand and let Rob help her out of the carriage. ¡°Brit doesn¡¯t have much experience driving the carriage,¡± she said. ¡°I knew that when I came, but sometimes, we have to make do with what we have. Unless you want to go back to Allynswood¡­¡± she said. Her voice was a bit wistful. ¡°But no. You need to be here.¡±


    ¡°What happened to Bothan? He was always pretty good at driving.¡±


    ¡°At his mother¡¯s house today, and I didn¡¯t have the heart to fetch him to do such a simple errand. His mother¡¯s doing poorly.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not my fault I don¡¯t know what I¡¯m doing,¡± Brit said, defensively. He glared at Rob. ¡°Nobody ever let me get around the carriage very often.¡±


    Elaine looked up. ¡°And nobody¡¯s really blaming you, Brit. You did well for what experience you¡¯ve had. This is the way you learn!¡±


    Gan stepped out of the house, wiping her hands on her flour-streaked apron and Moxie sitting on her shoulder. As she stepped out, her cat Pye streaked out, and jumped on the bench near the door, eyeing the carriage carefully.


    ¡°You think it¡¯s scary, too?¡± Moxie asked the cat, flitting off Gan¡¯s shoulder and floating above the animal.


    The cat meowed in response.


    Ignoring the two of them, Gan focused on Elaine. ¡°Now this is a surprise,¡± she said. ¡°Coming out here in such a fancy vehicle.¡±


    ¡°Ah, my riding horse bruised her foot, and needs to take it easy for a bit. Gweir has the trap out, and there wasn¡¯t really any other way for me to come here without walking.¡± She shrugged. ¡°So it was the fancy one or not at all.¡±


    Gan nodded. ¡°To be honest, I didn¡¯t expect you to come calling until Gweir went back. I hope everything is all right.¡±


    ¡°Everything is,¡± Elaine said with a smile for a moment, but then faded. ¡°Maybe. Or isn¡¯t. I don¡¯t even know right now. I needed someone to talk with. Do you have time?¡±


    Gan tilted her head, looking at her friend carefully. There was definitely an air of trouble hovering over the Lady of Allynswood. ¡°Of course I do. Come in, come in. I was just putting my bread on to bake and getting ready to make lunch.¡± She slipped an arm around her friend¡¯s arm. ¡°I¡¯ll make you a cup of tea, and we can talk it through, just like we used to do when we were younger.¡±


    She walked her friend inside.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know the bigs had troubles,¡± Rosebud said as the two women vanished over the threshold.


    ¡°That¡¯s silly,¡± Moxie said. ¡°Don¡¯t you remember the old hermit? He had lots of troubles. Drank too much, never took a bath, saw ghosts everywhere.¡±


    ¡°I thought he was just weird,¡± Rosebud said.


    ¡°Even weird folk have troubles,¡± Dahlia said.


    Rosebud shrugged and flew into the house.


    Inside, Gan set Elaine down and wiped the flour-sprinkled table clean before putting on the tea kettle. ¡°You really did catch me right after I got the loaves in the oven,¡± she said.


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    Elaine looked at the cozy cottage, dominated by its kitchen area, with food canisters and pots and jars arranged in neat order.


    ¡°It¡¯s so different here than at Allynswood,¡± Elaine said. ¡°Somehow, wherever you live, you make it feel like home, even in a space as small as this.¡±


    Gan opened a drawer and took out a clean cloth to cover the table with. ¡°It¡¯s not so small, not really. I have room for my books and my makings, enough room to read and write and bake. I don¡¯t need much more. My place in Comrie wasn¡¯t much larger, and there I didn¡¯t have a barn or a root cellar. Nor a gardener and handyman. I feel rich.¡±


    ¡°And you have us, too,¡± Hilby said, landing on the fireplace mantle.


    ¡°Yes, I do. You Pixies make sure I never feel lonely,¡± Gan said, nodding. She spread the cloth over the table, and put a small dish of spring flowers on the center of the table.


    Elaine smiled at her friend. ¡°You¡¯re the only person I know who¡¯s not a Pixie who seems to know just how to deal with them.¡±


    Gan took out her teapot and began to measure out tea. ¡°They remind me of my little ones at the school.¡± A shadow crossed her face for a moment. ¡°I hope Melusine is coping with all that, the silly questions and runny noses and skinned knees.¡± She took a deep breath.


    ¡°I never skin my knees,¡± Rosebud said, flying by to take her favorite place on the timbers above the main window.


    ¡°No,¡± Gan said. ¡°You just find the oddest places to take a nap. Like my travel bag.¡±


    ¡°Oh does she?¡± Elaine asked.


    Moxie landed next to Elaine. ¡°Yes she does. One day I found her curled up in an owl¡¯s nest. No telling what would have happened if me and Arne hadn¡¯t pulled her out first.¡±


    Elaine shook her head. ¡°Not the best place for a small person to sleep.¡±


    ¡°But it was so comfy,¡± Rosebud said.


    ¡°Might have been,¡± Arne said from his perch on the roof timbers. ¡°That is, until you became owl food.¡±


    ¡°Well, sleeping in my travel bag wasn¡¯t as dangerous,¡± Gan said, taking her big spoon off of its rest and giving the soup pot a stir. ¡°She got to go to go to Goblin Market with me.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m so jealous,¡± Moxie said. ¡°She got to go to the bakery and everything!¡±


    ¡°Met a lizard man there. He was pretty nice,¡± Rosebud said.


    Elaine¡¯s eyebrows went up. ¡°A lizard man?¡±


    ¡°He wasn¡¯t a lizard,¡± Gan said. ¡°He was the nice first year Dragonkin man who works at the DIC office.¡±


    ¡°Looks like a lizard,¡± Rosebud insisted.


    ¡°Oh, you must mean Umber. Arriane has told me about him. She¡¯s talked with him several times. He sounds like a nice person.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± Gan said. She reached into one of her cabinets and took out two carrots and a half head of cabbage, and began to wash them in a basin.


    ¡°I think she sympathizes with him being so far from home. She knows something of what that feels like,¡± Elaine said. ¡°Is there anything I can help you with? I might be Lady of Allynswood, but Edelkyn does let me into the kitchen once in a while.¡±


    ¡°No, no,¡± Gan said. ¡°I do this every day. I probably could do it in my sleep.¡±


    ¡°Gan makes the best soup,¡± Moxie declared.


    There was a chorus of agreement from the other Pixies in the room.


    ¡°Well then,¡± Elaine said, chuckling. ¡°Far be it from me to interfere with your masterwork, Gan. Just remember I offered.¡±


    Gan finished her washing, and dried her hands. ¡°If you want to do something, you can take out a couple of tea cups from that cabinet,¡± she said, pointing to the dish cabinet. ¡°The water¡¯s just about ready.¡±


    Taking the kettle off the fire, she quickly filled the tea pot, covered it with a cosy, and sat it on the table before turning back to her food work.


    Elaine opened the cabinet. ¡°You still have these cups?¡± she said. ¡°I remember when you bought them in Comrie.¡± She brought two brightly painted cups and their saucers to the table. She traced the floral pattern, intertwined vines of red and blue flowers on a cream background. ¡°How did you ever manage to hold onto them?¡±


    Gan stopped her chopping of carrots to turn and look. ¡°Ah, those cups. I put them into storage while I was at the White Island. I didn¡¯t know how well they¡¯d take the coming and going back and forth. And then, when I came back, I just was careful of them. They reminded me of a special time.¡±


    ¡°Ah, that was a special day,¡± Elaine said, nodding. ¡°I wonder if we knew then what we know now, how our lives would have turned out differently.¡±


    Gan put her chopped carrots into a bowl. ¡°I think I would have squawked more when Grendel applied to work at the school.¡± She began working on shredding the cabbage.


    That made Elaine laugh. ¡°Oh, Master Gwaher!¡± she said, doing a fair imitation of Gan¡¯s voice, ¡°When Grendel was a student here, he used to sneak into your tower at nights when you were out at conferences! And you should know what he did in the broom closets!¡±


    Both women began laughing in earnest. ¡°I don¡¯t know if that would have changed anything, to be honest. He finished his education with impeccable marks, and his clan wanted him in badly.¡±


    She gave the cabbage a final chop, added it to the bowl, and poured the bowl into the soup pot. ¡°And now that¡¯s done.¡± She wiped off her cutting board and washed it and put it away, then sat down. ¡°The only thing left to do is take out the bread, and I¡¯ll be able to give you my full attention.¡± She poured them both a cup of tea. ¡°So what brings you out here this morning?¡±


    Elaine looked down into her cup and sighed.¡°I was so happy when Gweir came home,¡± she said. Her voice drifted off and she stared out of the window as she gathered her thoughts. ¡°I love my husband, but sometimes I wonder about the wisdom of marrying a man who wants a military career...If I had known what it would be like when I was young, would I have?¡±


    Gan reached over and touched her friend¡¯s hand. ¡°Did something happen?¡±


    Elaine shook her head. ¡°Nothing really. He went out hunting today, which usually means he¡¯ll be out most of the day. I know Tam was hoping to go riding with him today, but he was gone before Tam got up.¡± She shook her head. ¡°That boy is growing up so fast. Gweir is home so little the last couple of years. He¡¯s going to miss all that time they could have had together.¡±


    Gan gave her friend¡¯s hand a squeeze. ¡°A boy¡¯s only young once. That¡¯s a sadness. Did Tam take it well?¡±


    ¡°Not really,¡± Elaine said.


    Moxie fluttered down next to the Daoine lady and patted her arm. ¡°You need to give him a piece of your mind for making him sad. If Arne did that, I¡¯d push him off the roof.¡±


    ¡°Alas, Gweir can¡¯t fly, so pushing him off the roof wouldn¡¯t be a nice thing to do.¡± Elaine gave the little Pixie a small smile. ¡°But thank you.¡±


    The room had been filling up with the smell of baking bread. Fergus, one of the Pixies that stayed outside most of the time except at meal times, flew in. ¡°Is it lunch time yet? It smells so good in here.¡±


    ¡°Not yet,¡± Gan said. ¡°Soup is still cooking, and the bread¡¯s not quite done yet either. Probably another hour.¡±


    He gave a disappointed sigh. ¡°I hate being late. But an hour early is too early to wait. I¡¯ll go hang out at the apple tree.¡± He flew out of the window.


    Gan got up, and took out some racks, then rummaging in a drawer, found her pot holders. ¡°Don¡¯t be surprised if there are a whole flock of Pixies who come in once I pull the bread out. Happens most days.¡±


    ¡°Pixies like bread?¡± Elaine asked.


    ¡°I love bread,¡± Moxie said. ¡°It¡¯s my favorite.¡±


    Gan went to the oven door. ¡°I thought it was sugar cookies.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s my favorite, too,¡± Moxie said, nodding.


    ¡°So which one is your real favorite?¡± Elaine asked.


    Moxie crossed her arms, and looked if she was thinking hard. ¡°Bread is my favorite, and sugar cookies are my favorite. I can¡¯t choose! Both!¡±


    Chuckling, Gan opened the oven door, and pulled out two large round loaves of bread and put them on the racks. ¡°Maybe that¡¯ll hold us a couple of days. Maybe.¡±


    Moxie flew over the loaves, inspecting them. They were beautifully shaped, slashed at an angle, and a perfect golden brown. ¡°So lovely. So delicious!¡±


    As Gan predicted, the room was soon filled by Pixies attracted to the scent of fresh bread. To get them to calm down and give her some peace, she sliced some of the last loaf, and passed out bread to everybody who came in. One by one they drifted outside having their bread hunger appeased. Soon it was only Gan and Elaine, Moxie and Dahlia still in the room.


    Gan sat back down at the table. ¡°Now you get my full attention, Ellie. Is there anything you can say to Gweir that might get him to pay Tam some more attention?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Elaine said, pouring herself another cup of tea. ¡°I remember how proud he was of Tam when he was born, and today, it was like making time for him was too much to do.¡±


    ¡°You need to talk to him, Ellie,¡± Gan said. She went to the counter, and took a few cookies out of a jar, put them on a plate, and brought them to the table. Moxie perked up at the sight. ¡°Hear, have a cookie. You know cookies make you think better when you have decisions to make.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re probably right about talking to him,¡± Elaine said, taking one, breaking it in half and dipping one half into her tea. ¡°But it feels harder and harder to reach him any more. Every time Gweir comes back from one of his military assignments, he comes back a little more changed,¡± Elaine said.


    ¡°Spending time apart can do that to a couple.¡± Gan took a cookie, broke it in half, and broke one half into small pieces, handing bits to Moxie and Dahlia. ¡°Shhh, don¡¯t tell the others,¡± she said to the Pixies.


    ¡°It¡¯s not just that we¡¯re spending time apart. Something about the things he¡¯s seen, the things he¡¯s done. Or something in the air. He won¡¯t talk about it. He¡¯s even worse about this last assignment. He said it¡¯s all secret.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard that type of change happens,¡± Gan said. ¡°It maybe starts with wanting to shield loved ones, but sometimes the work itself becomes a heavy burden.¡±


    Elaine sighed again. ¡°He says he does it for me and Tam...but if he changes himself so far from the man I married, what if there is no us left?¡±


    Gan took her friend¡¯s hand. ¡°I¡¯m not the best person to ask. My life has been change, change, change, one class of children to another. The closest I had to a stable person in my life was Master Gwaher, and he never changed in all the time I knew him.¡±


    Elaine nodded. ¡°I understand. Still, I saw this happen to my parents, too. They didn¡¯t have the excuse Gweir has. Mother got more and more involved with Alder Branch activities. My father escaped into his histories, left more and more of the work of Allynswood to his steward Arris and to me. Then Mother announced she had been offered a permanent position on the White Island. Sometimes, they both show up at the same times for holidays, but there¡¯s not much left between them beyond a history of once having been a close couple. Marriages breaking down doesn¡¯t have to be caused by trauma. It just has to be the end of Us, dissolving into to Me and Thee.¡±


    ¡°Do you think you¡¯re reaching that point?¡± Gan asked.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know!¡± Elaine exclaimed. ¡°But I¡¯m scared of it. Scared that the King¡¯s Guard is turning into Gweir¡¯s true wife.¡± She covered her face with her hands. ¡°And I don¡¯t know how to cope with that.¡±


    Gan reached out and gave her friend a hug. ¡°Be sure to make a life that is yours,¡± she said. ¡°If you always have your life, you¡¯ll be able to handle everything else.¡±


    Elaine nodded. ¡°I try. I have Allynswood and all the families who are depending on me. Most of the time, it¡¯s enough.¡±


    ¡°And when it¡¯s not, you can come here. I¡¯ll always feed you tea and cookies to help get you back on your feet.¡±


    ¡°Sugar cookies cure everything,¡± Moxie declared.


    ¡°Maybe they do,¡± Elaine said, and took another off the plate.

 Day 18 of the Warming Month, Continued 2

    Chapter 56


    Peddler, peddler, pack on your back,


    Do you have something I know that I lack?


    I want a whistle, I want a ring,


    I want a doll that can cry and sing,


    I want some candies tied in a sack,


    Peddler, peddler, pack on your back.


    Traditional children¡¯s song, collected by Meaves Goldstone of the Alder Branches, published in   Songs of the Sunlit Lands


    There was a small crowd gathering on the edge of the King¡¯s Highway where it cut through Cullin¡¯s Forest, about a mile from where it started next to the farm at Pixie Hollow where Gan and her Pixies lived. The people were gathered by a big boulder of pink and white granite, almost twice the height of Cullin. It was a massive piece of stone, with many little ledges and hollows worn into it over the years. The locals called Kepi¡¯s Milestone. Nobody remembered why it was called after Kepi, or even who Kepi was, except everybody was sure Kepi was a powerful magic user who lived before the Sundering War. Nobody remembered whether Kepi was male or female, or even what race the person was, but local legend was sure about Kepi¡¯s skill in magic. The boulder, after all this time, was proof positive.


    It had a magical property, this boulder did. If a person left a token of some sort, a message, a drawing, a leaf, even another stone, with the hope that a certain person would find it, when that certain person picked the token up off the boulder, a bell would ring throughout the forest, letting the person know his token had been found and someone would be waiting at the Milestone.


    Of course, that was useless for private messages, just between two people. It was too random, expecting the person you wanted to contact would come by the boulder. Besides the general call to everybody in earshot encouraged curiosity that might not be wanted. But there was one thing it was excellent for. When one of the few peddlers who dared Cullin¡¯s forest made his rounds, if he picked up a token from someone wanting something that he sold, or who wanted to sell him something, everybody knew he was there, and multiple customers usually would flood to the trading site. This way, nobody would get mudded by the Tree Shepherd for being in the forest without permission, and people got their goods without having to go to Goblin Market or Meridae. Considering that some of the people who wanted to trade were bound to the forest and couldn¡¯t travel, it was a happy solution.


    Cullin, sitting in a large maple tree that grew near the boulder, watched as the little crowd grew. So far, there were two dryads, carrying baskets with things they had gathered, one of the Moss Men who had a heavy bag, a faun, Fanke the Woodwose woman, hairy from head to foot, with ribbons braided into her head¡¯s hair that matched her sleeveless tunic, and arms bedecked with row after row of seed bead and bone bracelets, a classic Woodwose wild woman look. As he watched, the Birch woman, carrying a pair of dancing shoes, got into line. She glanced at the faun, and almost headed back into the forest, but took a deep sigh, and decided to stay in place, swaying a little as if she were ready to dance to a tune only she could hear.


    ¡°Look at them gather,¡± Morvran said, as he landed on a branch near Cullin. ¡°Pouring out of the forest like ants after you poke their nest.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re still mad at Piter?¡± Cullin asked.


    The raven cawed, the poked at a leaf. ¡°He did try to pull my tail feathers.¡±


    ¡°After you scattered a whole tray of his stuff,¡± Cullin reminded him. ¡°Stuff that Leila and Auld Annie and Uldra the Huldra were looking at.¡±


    Morvran cawed again. ¡°I was just trying to save them from themselves. Why would Uldra need bows for her fox tail? Or Auld Annie need a comb? She never combs her hair anyway. Or Leila need a silver bell?¡±


    ¡°Maybe to put around your neck, Raven. So she can hear you when you come snooping.¡±


    ¡°Hey,¡± Morvran said. ¡°I don¡¯t snoop.¡± He fluffed up his neck feathers, as if insulted at the thought. ¡°I investigate.¡±


    ¡°Same difference.¡± Cullin slipped down from the tree.


    As he dropped down, Leila and the three woodwives, all carrying baskets, came out of the forest near to where he was standing.


    ¡°Greetings, Lord,¡± Su said, curtseying. Her sisters joined in.


    ¡°A fine day for trading,¡± said Du.


    ¡°As long as it doesn¡¯t rain,¡± said Lu.


    ¡°Oh hello, Cullin,¡± Leila said. ¡°I didn¡¯t expect to find you here. Is Piter ready yet?¡±


    ¡°Almost,¡± he said. ¡°Look for yourself.¡±


    The group of women turned to the boulder where the short, squat little man had opened his pack and somehow, perhaps magically turned it into a series of tables and display cases.


    The peddlar was built like a Dwarf, but had the ears of a Bauchan and white, curly hair, close cropped and half hidden by a skullcap. He wore a dingy white tunic over brown leather breeches and a worn green long waistcoat with large pockets above and below the waist, but not on his back. In fact the waistcoat had extra padding on his back, as protection when he carried his pack.


    ¡°That whole pack must be a box of holding,¡± Leila said, looking at the display Piter was finalizing. ¡°So many goods! Nobody could carry all that otherwise.¡±


    The peddler had managed to set up four tables and racks spreading out in a u shape from the open expanse of his wooded travel pack. There were ribbons and threads and lace and cloth in dress-length cuts. There was a hat rack bearing ten types of head wear, both for men and women. A display of trinkets and charms, some magical ¨C necklaces, rings, bracelets and brooches. A selection of baskets. Perfumes and unguents, lotions and potions, boxes of herbs. Distilled spirits. The herbs for flavoring ales. Fine teas, and cheap teas. Boots and shoes that would self-size to fit any foot. Incense and rare potent oils. Paper, journals, ink and sealing wax. Candies and cookies. A box of toys. A rack of cloaks. Buckets and knives and pliers and saws. An amazing selection, considering it all fit into the one wooden travel pack.


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡°Magic, indeed,¡± Cullin said.


    Piter adjusted one last item on his display, and turned around. ¡°Let¡¯s do some business!¡±


    One by one, the denizens of the forest that had something to trade stepped up to the counter, and waited while Piter weighed, tested, measured, and counted the forest things and crafts people brought up. Rusty the Faun traded a basket of nuts for a piece of red ribbon to tie into his rather unkempt but long beard. As he turned to go, he leared at the women and began to braid it before he got back into the trees. The Birch Woman traded some finely made and embroidered dancing slippers for some tea. The Moss man traded his bag of bog iron for tools.


    The trades went smoothly until Maunzi brought up a large basket of herbs and potions to trade. Uldra the Huldra, getting impatient over the time it was taken, moved up to the counter, and asked,¡°Do you have any of Rachman¡¯s Unguent?¡±


    Fanke the Woodwose for some reason got enraged. ¡°Get back in line, you hussy,¡± she said, pulling on the Huldra¡¯s sleeve. Her many bracelets rattled as she moved. ¡°Wait your turn before you start buying things you hope can draw other women¡¯s men into your circle.¡±


    ¡°Why you -¡± Uldra said, turning to face the Woodwose. ¡°At least I don¡¯t bore my man to death, like some women I know,¡± she replied, crossing her arms.


    ¡°Stop it, you two,¡± Maunzi said. ¡°Take your fight elsewhere if you need to, but I was here first.¡± She began to glow a little, a warning sign to those who knew her. ¡°Let the peddler work.¡±


    ¡°Ladies, I have plenty of everything,¡± Piter said, barely stopping in his measuring of herbs on his scale. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it.¡±


    Fanke and Uldra ignored them all. ¡°At least I know where my man is at night,¡± Fanke said, balling her fist. Her long hair began rising around her, almost dancing. ¡°At least I have a man at my hearth at night.¡±


    Uldra¡¯s fox tail began to twitch back and forth, and her fingernails began to grow, lengthening as they started to form claws.


    ¡°Oh dear,¡± Leila said.


    Su shook her head. ¡°So tacky, those two.¡±


    Du nodded. ¡°Here, of all places.¡±


    Lu sighed.


    Cullin adjusted his hat and walked over to the line. ¡°Enough!¡± He grabbed both of the women by the arms. Suddenly they froze, and their aggression magic faded as he held onto them ¨C Fanke¡¯s hair settled down and Uldra¡¯s claws retracted.


    ¡°You both know that the trade area is a no-fight zone,¡± he said. His tone was both stern, but somehow soothing.


    ¡°But she broke in line, Lord Tree Shepherd,¡± Fanke said, whining.


    ¡°Was it your role to oversee the line?¡± he asked.


    Fanke dropped her head. ¡°No, Lord. But she cheats all the time.¡±


    ¡°And what did I tell you to do if you discover her doing that?¡±


    ¡°To talk to you or Leila,¡± she said, in a tiny voice.


    ¡°Go give your trade goods to Leila and tell her what you want, and she¡¯ll get it for you. Then go home and wait.¡±


    Fanke took a deep breath, then nodded. ¡°Yes, Lord.¡±


    He released her, and she headed to where Leila was standing in line. Leila patted it on her arm, and was evidently saying something that the Woodwose found comforting, so he turned his attention to the woman he was still holding onto.


    ¡°Now what shall I do with you, Uldra?¡±


    She looked up at him and released her most alluring glamour, one that made a Moss Man standing near by sigh with regret, but Cullin was immune to that type of Fey magic. ¡°Let me go?¡± she cooed.


    ¡°Hardly. You had already had three other warnings. You were told there would be consequences.¡±


    Uldra dropped her head down. ¡°Yes, Lord. What happens now?¡±


    Cullin¡¯s tone went gentle and he dropped his hand off her arm. ¡°Do you like living in my forest, Uldra?¡±


    She looked back up at him, confused. ¡°Yes, Lord. I was so grateful you let me stay here after they chased me out of Goblin Market. This is the first place in a long time that felt like home.¡±


    ¡°I let you stay here because Leila told me you had a good heart even though you had a tendency to cause trouble, and not all the news we had heard was your fault. People had also used you badly.¡±


    Uldra nodded.


    ¡°We let you stay, and for awhile, I had high hopes of you fitting in here. But since you¡¯ve arrived, you have had run-ins with Maunzie, got the Fauns to get into fights over which one of them got to talk to you, caused the Moss Men to stop their work in the wood, and most lately, had Salvange, Fanke¡¯s husband following you around like a puppy. Wherever you go it seems you use your glamour in ways that disturb the peace of the forest.¡± He pulled his hat down a bit. ¡°What am I going to do with you?¡±


    Auld Annie walked up to the Tree Shepherd. ¡°Give her to me, young one. I can teach her the way to control her glamour. That¡¯s part of her problem. When she¡¯s nervous or frightened, it shoots up far beyond what a normal Fay would have.¡±


    Uldra¡¯s eyes lit up at the idea. ¡°Yes, Lord. Please?¡±


    ¡°Hah,¡± said Maunzi, walking up to Uldra and staring into her face, then turning to Auld Annie. ¡°You¡¯re just looking for more ways to gather forest herbs.¡± She turned to Cullin. ¡°And knowing Annie, she¡¯ll cause more trouble once she learns more about the ways of glamour. I wouldn¡¯t trust her if she could turn it on full strength at will.¡±


    Someone in the group said, ¡°Send her to Pixie Hollow! Let the Pixies teach her about the ways of glamour.¡± Cullin looked around to see who said that, but couldn¡¯t figure out who it was.


    ¡°That wouldn¡¯t be fair to Mistress Gan. She and the Pixies get along fine, and she doesn¡¯t need someone like this,¡± Leila said.


    Uldra bent over, feeling defeated. ¡°Why did today happen? I just wanted to buy some unguent.¡±


    A tall, thin, and rather ugly Woodwose stepped up. He had patchy, balding hair, a large nose, and huge ears and a scraggly, thin beard. His clothing was ragged and patched, and didn¡¯t fit well. His trousers and sleeves were too short for the length of his legs, and his footwear was handmade sandals.


    ¡°Lord Tree Shepherd,¡± he said. He scruffed the ground with his toe. His voice was hesitant and soft.


    ¡°Yes, Urisk?¡±


    ¡°Lord Tree Shepherd, if Mistress Uldra needs someone to keep her, I¡¯ll do it. She¡¯s always been nice to me. And I know what it¡¯s like to be unwanted and homeless.¡±


    Uldra looked at the ugly Woodwose with amazed eyes. ¡°You? You think I¡¯ve been nice to you?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯ve heard the talk, about what they say you¡¯ve said when I wasn¡¯t around, Mistress Uldra. But you¡¯ve never said it to my face. And I know what it¡¯s like when everyone turns their backs on you.¡±


    Uldra put her hands over her face, not trusting her emotion. ¡°I...I¡­¡±


    Leila went up to Cullin, and whispered something in his ear. He nodded. ¡°This is what I think we¡¯ll do, if it is all right with Uldra and Urisk. I will place a boundary around Urisk¡¯s territory. Urisk will be able to cross it, but Uldra will not. Nor will anybody who wishes harm to Uldra. This boundary will last one moon cycle. Auld Annie, if you¡¯d like, you may come and start working with Uldra to master her glamour reflex.¡±


    Maunzie began to say something, but Cullin held up his hand to quiet her. ¡°The harmony of the forest matters more than a squabble about herb gathering. Uldra has a weakness that we can help. After a moon cycle, we will evaluate.¡± He turned to Uldra. ¡°Can you live with this?¡±


    Uldra looked at Urisk, who was looking uncomfortable and awkward, and at Auld Annie, who gave her a small smile and a nod of encouragement. She turned back to Cullin, and nodded. ¡°I think so, Lord.¡±


    ¡°Good. Give Leila what you were going to trade for your unguent.¡±


    Uldra handed over a basket. Urisk handed Leila some coins. ¡°I was coming for tea.¡±


    Leila nodded.


    Cullin took both Uldra¡¯s and Urisk¡¯s hands, and then invoking his magic, all three were gone.


    Piter, during all this time ignored the drama in front of him, had been processing Maunzie¡¯s trade. As Cullin worked out what to do with Uldra, he laid three lengths of cloth, a big box of tea, some scented oils in brown bottles, and a box of candles on the counter.


    ¡°Thank you for your business, Mistress Maunzie. Always good doing business with you,¡± he said. ¡°Next in line!¡±


    A Moss Man moved up to the counter, even as Maunzie packed her basket. He almost withered under her gaze, but the Bush Grandmother really had no words for him, and he did his trade in peace after a shaky start.


    Instead, Maunzie stopped next to Leila. ¡°I hope you like being the Tree Shepherd¡¯s handy tool, girl.¡±


    ¡°Tool?¡± Leila asked.  She kept her face neutral.


    ¡°We all know how you feel about him, and how he sees you. If you ask me, you deserve better. Anyway,¡± she said, reaching into her basket and taking out a letter, ¡°Here I am, adding to your work. I¡¯ve heard so much about Gan Thistleberry. I¡¯d like to invite you and her to tea. Do you think you could give her this invitation?¡±


    Leila took a deep breath, and stifled what she wanted to say. Somehow, she managed to dredge up a smile. ¡°I¡¯d be happy to.¡± She took the letter and put it away in her own basket.


    Maunzie left.


    ¡°A tea party, eh?¡± Auld Annie smiled. It was a rather wicked looking smile. ¡°Wonder what she¡¯d do if I crashed that party?¡±


    Up ahead, Piter yelled, ¡°Next in line!¡±

 Day 18 of the Warming Month, Continued 3

    Chapter 57


    Trust is a fragile thread. It is very hard sometimes to spin, but it weaves up into excellent cloth, something that is really worth the wearing, shining splendidly in the light. But badly used, the thread can snap or shatter, and turned the once glorious fabric into rags. Take care of your trust.


    Aphorisms for a Quiet Life   by Ruddtha Redstone, Chairman of Toolets Manufacturing, Sunderland


    Umber Madrona stepped out of the morning freight carriage with his stack of papers in hand. ¡°Busy morning. Going to take me a while to get this all registered.¡±


    ¡°Well, you may have more to do, but I¡¯m glad that lot of crap is finished,¡± Gob Hezney said, wiping his oversized Spriggan forehead with a large kerchief. ¡°It¡¯s bad enough loading wool. It¡¯s heavy and stinks, but wool and manure in the same shipment?¡± He shook his head in disbelief ¡°Who needs all that fertilizer? Sheep hair and sheep muck ¨C I¡¯ll be having nightmares about sheep tonight, I tell you! Where does Turbot find all these customers?¡±


    Umber nodded sympathetically. ¡°It was rather...well shall we say, fragrant in there before we finished. I hope the crew in Meridae can handle it.¡± He looked at his papers, and thumbed to the right form. ¡°Odd thing about the manure. It¡¯s not going to a farm. Looks like someone in Sunderland figured out something to make out of it. It¡¯s going to Primila Manufacturing. Don¡¯t know who they are, but that¡¯s who¡¯s paying for it.¡±


    ¡°Eh, who knows? Maybe they¡¯re raising mushrooms on it. I¡¯ve heard of that. Still, strange world we live in.¡± Gob stashed his kerchief in a pocket of his overalls, and headed towards the exit. ¡°Well, I¡¯m going to take a bath when I get home for lunch. I¡¯ll be damned if I¡¯m going to smell like rotted sheep droppings all afternoon.¡±


    Behind them the transport crew were locking up the carriage, getting it ready to head out. The locks slammed into position, and the carriage vanished as they walked away.


    Gob turned back to look at Umber, and gave him a wink. ¡°And if I were you, I¡¯d wash up a little bit before you meet up with your lady friend for lunch. You didn¡¯t handle the bags, but odors linger when you¡¯re around them long enough. I¡¯m sure some of that stink rubbed off.¡±


    That caught Umber off-guard. ¡°Uh, maybe you¡¯re right,¡± he said. He waved to Jabot, the delivery manager as he headed out, who grinned at the two men.


    ¡°Gob, what did you roll in?¡± Jabot asked at the Spriggan walked near enough.


    ¡°Don¡¯t give me that, you...you¡­¡± Gob said. He started to clinch his fist, but then relaxed it¡°You know perfectly well what I¡¯ve been in. You set up the work schedule. Teasing a tired man is a dark thing.¡±


    ¡°Well, this afternoon, it¡¯ll be tiles and storage pots and flour barrels.¡±


    ¡°Sounds delightful,¡± Gob said. ¡°At least it won¡¯t stink.¡±


    Umber just shook his head. He¡¯d never understand Jabot¡¯s need to tease. Waving to his porter friend one last time, he made his way back to the office. It was empty for the moment.


    ¡°Ah, at least I¡¯ll be able to get started in peace,¡± he said, pulling out his ledgers.


    Content at the turn of events, he began doing his paperwork. Thumbing the first receipt, he murmered, ¡°Copper pots and spices,¡± writing down the values. ¡°Something will be cooking at the candy makers.¡±


    One by one he went through them. ¡°Three bolts of red flannel.¡± His pen scratched across the register. ¡°Verdigris. Oil of Shamus. Candles of Rivrin. What is the herbalist up to?¡±


    He continued on that way, tallying the imports until the last item was entered, when the door opened up and Thornfield Witstone walked in. He was slump shouldered, frowning, and his spikes radiated unease.


    ¡°Something come up?¡± Umber asked as he put away the morning¡¯s cash receipts.


    ¡°Stupid women,¡± Thornfield murmured under his breath. ¡°Always wanting something for nothing.¡± He made his way to his own desk, not really looking at Umber. Sitting down he gave a deep sigh, looked at what looked like a Dragon Web message in his hand one more time, as if rereading it could make it go away, and then looked up at his apprentice.


    ¡°Bad news?¡± Umber asked.


    ¡°Something like that. Look, I have to be two places at the same time this afternoon. I¡¯ve had a scheduled meeting with Mayor Turbot for this afternoon on the calender for the last two weeks, and then that little chit of a dragon egg Sheena tossed me this right as I was walking in. And she¡¯d had it on her desk for all morning!¡±


    He got up and tossed it on Umber¡¯s desk. Umber picked it up. It was written on DIC Headquarters stationary.


    ¡°DIC VIP Coach coming at the hour after midday. Please be there to greet and facilitate all aid for the persons arriving,¡± Umber read outloud. ¡°Why? Who¡¯s coming?¡±


    ¡°You know as much as I do. I need you to meet whoever it is, pat them on the head, and keep them happy until I get back. So go eat lunch, then put on your uniform and do the DIC proud.¡±


    Thornfield leaned against the doorframe. ¡°This is an important for me. Very. Sorry to leave you in the lurch.¡± Somehow there was nothing about how he looked at Umber that said anything about being sorry. Instead, he had the aura of high level nervousness. ¡°Got to run, or I¡¯m going to be late. You can tell me all about it when I get back.¡±


    He hurried out of the door.


    ¡°Escaping?¡± Umber asked. ¡°But why? Does he know something I don¡¯t?¡± Not sure of what was going on, he put up his ledgers. While he was doing this there was a knock on the door. When he answered it, he found Lana standing there, her eyes filled with curiosity.


    ¡°Funny things are happening,¡± she said. ¡°Thornfield was having a long private chat with Sheena and one of Mayor Turbot¡¯s men. The man left, then Sheena and Thornfield came out of the room they were in and they were having some sort of argument. I¡¯m not exactly sure what it was about, but Sheena sure seemed to be expecting something from him. Then he checked the back to see if you were done yet. His spikes were flaring red as he marched back to the DIC office. I tried to ask Sheena what was up, but she just laughed me off. Then I saw Thornfield run out of the front of the building like a Gallu was after him.¡± She gave Umber a concerned look. ¡°Is everything all right?¡±


    ¡°I have no idea,¡± Umber said, shrugging. ¡°He burst in and said he had an appointment with the mayor at the same time this is happening.¡± He showed the message to Lana. ¡°VIPs are coming. He said he got it right before coming into the office. He wants me to meet the VIP carriage.¡±


    Lana took the note from him and looked at the back of it, where the letter was stamped and addressed. ¡°Huh. This came in this morning. I put it in the mail pouch for Thornfield this morning, and Jazlin dropped it off just after the morning freight shipment came in. He¡¯s known about it that long. Why would he tell you that?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s a strange man,¡± Umber said. ¡°I think he¡¯s scared of someone from DIC headquarters. Maybe he¡¯s scared they¡¯ll transfer him and spoil all his deals with Turbot and the other folk he helps make a little extra money.¡±


    ¡°All the DIC offices do some of that,¡± Lana said. ¡°It¡¯s normal. It¡¯s one of the perks of being station master. You think he might be involved with something more?¡±


    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    ¡°If he was a gray, I¡¯d understand him more, maybe...but when other folks come into the DIC, they have other motivations than investigating.¡±


    ¡°Well let¡¯s have lunch. I brought some goodies.¡± Lana said. ¡°Beema pasties.


    Springberry tarts.¡±


    ¡°Sounds lovely,¡± he said. Reaching in his desk drawer, he pulled out his own meal, and together they went to the lunch room.


    >>>>>>>>>>>>>> <<<<<<<<<<<<<<


    At Pixie Hollow, Elaine Allyns had left Gan to concentrate on her cooking lunch. That was her excuse, but she was really interested in what Rob Greenway had managed to accomplish in the day since her sister Arriane had convinced her to send the young man over to be her gardener, handyman and companion. She was not disappointed as she walked through the grounds where Rob had been working hard since his first day. First, they looked at the flower beds that surrounded the front of the little house. The flower beds had been tamed and were glowing with early spring perennials with some annuals leafing out.


    ¡°You¡¯re a lot like your father, Rob,¡± Elaine remarked. ¡°You have a talent for helping things thrive.¡±


    He beamed at the compliment. ¡°It¡¯s where most of my magic is,¡± he said. ¡°Not the strongest talent, I¡¯ve been told, but I love to help things grow. You¡¯ll have to come back in a month or two and see if you still think that.¡±


    She chuckled a little. ¡°I¡¯m sure I will be.¡±


    They walked to the right of the little house and just a bit past it. ¡°This is the main vegetable patch,¡± Rob said with some pride. A few seedlings were coming up in neat rows. Bean frames stood in place, waiting for their vines to grow.


    ¡°As neat and professional as I expected from you,¡± she said.


    ¡°I hope it¡¯s big enough,¡± Rob said. ¡°I¡¯ve started redoing the root cellar, too.¡± He pointed to a mound not far from the garden proper. ¡°It was in pretty bad shape.¡± They moved past the vegetable plot. ¡°The herb garden will go over there,¡± Rob said, pointing to a separate bed that was separated from the veggie garden by a neat row of bricks and a border. Currently it boasted a couple of very small rosebushes, but unlike the vegetable bed, it wasn¡¯t in neat rows, but meandered a bit, with various pockets to separate out plants that needed to be kept separate from each other. An inviting bench sat in its center, with paving stones leading back to the rest of the grounds and a well was near its border. It was backed by a row of berry bushes, and beyond that, fruit trees.


    ¡°It¡¯s a little early to put down all the herbs, but I have some seeds planted. Is it all right for me to take cuttings or seedlings from the Allynswood gardens?¡± Rob asked.


    ¡°Of course,¡± Elaine said, nodding. ¡°As long as you talk to Gan about it first.¡±


    ¡°Always do,¡± the young gardener said. ¡°We have it all planned out.¡±


    ¡°You seem to work well with her,¡± Elaine said, giving him a positive look. He knew that look well, and had fought to receive it more than a time or two when he was growing up and helping his father. ¡°I¡¯m glad. I suspect it would be fairly lonely out here without you for company.¡±


    He scratched the back of his head. ¡°Well, Mistress Gan is never really alone, what with the Pixies and everything,¡± Rob said.


    Rosebud flew over from one of the apple trees, landing on his cap, and looked down at him, a feat that was just starting to feel natural to him. ¡°Mistress Gan is the best,¡± she said.


    Elaine, slighly surprised by the little woman, laughed a little at the way she was talking to Rob. ¡°That¡¯s why she¡¯s been my friend a long, long time.¡±


    ¡°Moxie keeps an eye on her all the time,¡± Rosebud said, looking up at Elaine. ¡°She¡¯s never alone, except when she goes to sleep. She put up a barrier that keeps me out.¡±


    ¡°Well, we bigs do like to have a little privacy once in a while,¡± Elaine said. She turned her eyes back to Rob. ¡°You seem to have adjusted to the Pixies fairly well.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re not so bad once you get to know them,¡± Rob admitted. ¡°And Leila and Cullin show up every few days. It¡¯s less quiet over here than you think.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s good to know. I¡¯ve been worried about her being out here, and her getting homesick for her old life. It can be hard when life changes for you as much as her life has, and you don¡¯t have enough company and things to do to make up for it.¡±


    ¡°I can believe that. My da had problems when he had to give up working at Allynswood full time. I thought my ma was going to kick him out of the house before he settled down.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m glad he¡¯s doing better.¡± Elaine gave Rob a nod and a big smile. ¡°I like how he comes around once in awhile. The gardens weren¡¯t the same without him chasing everybody around to do it just his way.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s Da¡¯s way, that¡¯s for sure.¡±


    The two reached the end of the gardens proper, and reached the orchard. ¡°Mistress Gan was wondering if we could plant some peach trees,¡± Rob said. ¡°I hear her talking about her peach pie a lot. It¡¯d be good if we could make her happy on that.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t see why not, if there¡¯s room for them.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll talk to Cobain then, when I go to Allynswood tomorrow,¡± Rob said. ¡°I bet he has some young trees ready to transplant.¡±


    ¡°He always has stayed on top of things that way.¡± Elaine looked at Rob with a thoughtful look, as if she had come to a decision. ¡°I know I said you were to be here on a month¡¯s probation, but I think from what I¡¯ve seen, I¡¯m ready to move you into full gardener status. You¡¯ve done well, Rob Woodway. I¡¯m very pleased to see how well you¡¯re working out here.¡±


    His face glowed with the unexpected award. ¡°Me? Really?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Soon as I get back, I¡¯ll get the paymaster to get right on it. And you when you get off, can go and tell your Lily the good news.¡±


    He blushed at that. ¡°I...I will. Thank you so very much, ma¡¯am. Thank you.¡±


    Dahlia flew by, and landed on Rob¡¯s shoulder. ¡°There you two are! Mistress Gan told me to tell you it was lunch time. We¡¯re all hungry, and she won¡¯t dish up until you get there. Please! I¡¯m so hungry!¡±


    Elaine laughed. ¡°Well, let¡¯s not have the whole Pixie clan mad at us, right, Rob?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right about that,¡± Rob said.


    And together, they headed back to the house.


    >>>>>>>>>>>>>> <<<<<<<<<<<<<<


    At the Goblin Market Dragon Web station, Lana walked Umber back to his office. ¡°So what do you do when a VIP carriage comes in?¡± she asked as they walked in.


    Umber moved to the storage cabinet and took out his uniform jacket and slipped it on. ¡°Mostly, I guess, it¡¯s just meet with whoever¡¯s on it, and help them do whatever they came to do...direct them, answer questions, send them to the inn, things like that. Liaison and flunky. I don¡¯t know why Thornfield is so nervous about doing it. It¡¯s usually easy work.¡±


    ¡°He acts like a man with a guilty conscience,¡± Lana said, leaning on the edge of Umber¡¯s desk, ¡°or afraid that the VIP is coming for him.¡±


    ¡°He does, doesn¡¯t he?¡± Umber smoothed the front of his jacket. ¡°Does this still look all right? I haven¡¯t worn it since I came back from the time with Byrony.¡±


    Lana moved in closer, and picked off a piece of lint off his shoulder and stepped back as he buttoned his jacket. ¡°You look fine,¡± she said, ¡°and I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll do fine.¡± She flashed him a brilliant smile that showed her full approval. ¡°You have the right spirit for being a DIC agent.¡± She rested a hand on his chest. ¡°You¡¯ll never end up being stuck as the head DIC officer in a little station like this. I bet, with time, you¡¯ll end up working at Headquarters if you want it. I just know it.¡±


    He rested his hand over hers. ¡°Thank you for believing in me. You don¡¯t know what that means to me.¡±


    Her fluff glowed with happy satisfaction. ¡°Well, when you¡¯re done with all this, you¡¯ll have to tell me everything you can. But I know you¡¯ll do fine.¡± She freed her hand and rested it along the side of his face. ¡°But now, I have to go back to work...and you probably need to go to the VIP lounge to wait.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± he managed to say. His throat had suddenly went dry and his heart pounded a bit at her touch.


    For a moment neither of them moved, but Lana reluctantly dropped her hand and moved to the door. ¡°Come see me after your shift ends. I¡¯ll be waiting!¡±


    He stood there for a moment, catching his breath, then got a drink of water from the office carafe before heading out himself. When he got to the VIP lounge, this time, unlike when Byrony came to visit, he was the only person waiting. For a moment, he wondered if the instructions were faked to excuse Thornfield for the afternoon, but then the alarm that always let go when a carriage was coming in sounded. Voices in the back called out as they secured the carriage in place and there was the sound of metal clanking. One of the local travel stewards, a pretty little brown dragonkin woman in a smartly turned out Dragon Web uniform emblazoned with the B&F logo, went to the front of the carriage doors, followed by one of the Spriggan porters who worked with the traveler carriages. One of the carriage attendants hurried to the front and undid the final latch, then the travel steward opened the door.


    ¡°Welcome to Goblin Market, gentlemen. It¡¯s a lovely spring afternoon here, sunny and pleasant, although I suspect it¡¯s a little cooler than in Sunderland. We hope you enjoy your time here. Please let us know if there is anything we can do to help you while you¡¯re here.¡± She motioned the Spriggan to enter.


    Umber stepped up closer as well, and watched as two Dragonkin men strode out, both in the uniform of the DIC headquarters group. One of them he recognized from his time as Byrony¡¯s attache.


    ¡°Aspen? Aspen Bloodstone?¡± Umber said.


    Aspen looked up and nudged his fellow traveler, then waved to the young Dragonkin. ¡°Ah, Umber, you¡¯re just the person we were hoping would meet us. Umber Madrona, meet Balston Mullin. We¡¯re on a special investigation that brought us to Goblin Market for a little while.¡±


    ¡°Byrony told us he wrote you to explain what¡¯s going on,¡± Balston said. ¡°We want to pick your brain about a couple of local women before we go and talk to them.¡±


    ¡°Byrony wrote me?¡± Umber said, totally surprised. ¡°When?¡±


    ¡°You never got the message?¡± Asper said. ¡°He sent it on the 16<sup>th</sup>. Should have gotten here the same day.¡±


    ¡°I was off that day. Why didn¡¯t Thornfield leave it on my desk?¡± Umber¡¯s spikes grew dark.


    The two investigators exchanged glances. ¡°Is your Senior around?¡±


    Umber shook his head. ¡°He claimed he had an appointment with the mayor. For some reason, he was really nervous about meeting your carriage.¡±


    ¡°If he¡¯s going to act like that, I can understand,¡± Asper said. ¡°But that means your office is free for us to use. Let¡¯s go there and we¡¯ll fill you in.¡±


    Taking their bags from the Spriggan, the two investigators followed the younger man as they headed back to Umber¡¯s office.

 Day 18 of the Warming Month, Continued 4

    Chapter 58


    Three things to be wary of: A bargain too good to be true ¨C the offerer is expecting to get wealthy on what you give him while giving you nothing of great value in exchange. A smooth tongue that says it has the answers to your most vexing problems. See item number one. The business partner who says ¡®If you just break this little rule¡­¡¯ See item number one, and also find a good legal expert.


    Aphorisms for a Quiet Life by Ruddtha Redstone, Chairman of Toolets Manufacturing, Sunderland


    It was the largest house in Goblin Market, with a large carved wood entryway that imitated the entrance to the Allynswood manor, but on a smaller scale, with delicately carved vining plants reaching up to the center point. In front of it was an elegantly laid out garden with groomed shrubs and small stands of spring flowers.


    It didn¡¯t exactly match the rest of the building, which was a ramshackle building that had evidently grown in a rather organic fashion, new rooms and wings being added over the years. The effect in some ways reminded Thornfield of a small girl playing dress up in her mother¡¯s finery ¨C one could never mistake the real thing from the pretend.


    ¡°Still, it¡¯s where I get my best gold,¡± he muttered.


    Ignoring the front entrance, he walked a graveled path to the side of the building, walking past storage buildings and sheds where people were working on the supplies that went to the general store for sale ¨C crates and barrels of goods coming in from out of town, and one of the reasons Turbot and he had such a good working relationship.


    Most of the workers ignored him after a first glance, like he was a known person with a right to be there, the same way he ignored them. One person, though, was leaning against the wall of the building. He was dressed like the other male workers in rough work clothes, wearing a tunic of grey linen with the sleeves halfway rolled up. His shock of dirty blond hair was covered by a brown wool hat with a large brim. Tugging at the brim, he nodded to Thornfield.


    ¡°Master Turbot is waiting for you, Master Witstone. He¡¯s in the back office.¡±


    ¡°Thanks, Hobber. He alone?¡± Thornfield said, tossing the man a gold piece.


    Hobber shook his head. ¡°Whinzer is there. And a new man, never seen before. He¡¯s wearing some weird robe...even covered his face. Turbot seemed mighty excited to meet with him.¡± Hobber scratched the back of his neck. ¡°I got a kind of bad feeling about this. I think this is one of Whinzer¡¯s wild ideas, something he cooked up on his last trip to Brightwater, but nobody listens to me. You take care.¡±


    He slipped off and walked to the warehouses at the back of the property.


    Thornfield, not bothered in the least by Hobber¡¯s opinion of Whinzer, hurried around to the back of the building. There, protected by a wide awning, was a red door with a heavy brass knocker. He knocked.


    The door opened wide, and the jovial face of Mayor Turbot greeted him. ¡°Come in, come in, friend! This looks to be a great day!¡±


    The two of them walked out of the foyer and into a larger space, set with tables and chairs. Two men were seated, one dressed in gray robes with a cowl pulled down, hiding his features, and a man in bright red clothing, wearing a black hat with a jaunty large blue feather.


    ¡°Greetings, Whinzer. A good meeting in Brightwater?¡± Thornfield asked the man in red. Turbot handed him a glass of wine, which he accepted, and took a big sip, savoring the taste.


    ¡°Quite good,¡± Whinzer said, nodding. ¡°I think we¡¯ve solved our problem with the miserly, miserable Redbeard, always throttling the amount of goods we can trade, and taking such a big cut of the profits. Our new friend Tibart here has our solution around that problem. And once we work out the fine points, the money will flow!¡±


    ¡°How well this will work depends a lot on you,¡± Turbot said. ¡°Please listen to Master Tibart, and decide if you think it¡¯s a good a deal as we do.¡±


    >>>>>>>>>>>>>> <<<<<<<<<<<<<<


    Umber walked into the office with Asper and Balston right behind him.


    ¡°I can make some tea if you¡¯d like,¡± he said as the three of them entered.


    ¡°Please,¡± Balston said. ¡°You know the old saying, the DIC runs on tea.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what they tell me.¡± Umber went over to the tea service and pressed the touchstone that started the process. A carafe filled with water and immediately began heating. ¡°We don¡¯t have quite the set up they have at DIC headquarters, but it¡¯ll do.¡±


    Asper looked around the room. Thornfield¡¯s desk had a stack of papers in his inbox, and a large white book, and little else, and a bookcase behind it. Umber¡¯s desk had the last of his morning paperwork and some filing left on it. There were two other chairs for guests to sit in. The effect was a bit cramped.


    ¡°Mighty small DIC office,¡± he said. He leaned up against one of the file cabinets that took up a lot of the wall by Umber¡¯s desk. ¡°Barely enough room to interrogate anybody.¡±


    Umber shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s a small Dragon Web station,¡± he said, shoving the last of the shipment papers on his desk into one of the drawers. ¡°Outside of the people who work here, not many Dragonkin here. It¡¯s a quiet place. Not many calls for DIC services.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t even have an interview room?¡± Balston asked, looking around himself. He sat down in one of the two spare chairs.


    The tea was done, and Umber poured cups for the two men. ¡°Thornfield says we have an arrangement to take over the break room if we need to,¡± Umber said. ¡°Don¡¯t think we¡¯ve used it since I came here this year. About the only thing we do is check in and outgoing freight.¡±


    ¡°That is an important aspect of the DIC,¡± Asper said, nodding. ¡°Fees from shipping keeps the DIC going.¡±


    ¡°Maybe they should warn people at the Academy about how that works for first years,¡± Umber grumbled, pouring his own cup of tea.


    ¡°What, and chase off all the students?¡± Balston asked.


    Asper laughed at that. ¡°We¡¯ve all had to pay our time. Lots of small stations out there. Somebody has to man them.¡±


    ¡°Anyway, so why did you two come here to talk to me?¡±


    ¡°Well, we actually want to talk with two of the local Aos Si, two women.¡± Asper looked at his notes once again to be sure he got their names right. ¡°Elaine Allyns and Gan Thistleberry. Byrony thought you¡¯d be better to handle it than Thornfield.¡±


    ¡°Those two women? Whatever for?¡± Umber said, surprised. ¡°Of all the people around here the DIC to want to question! There are some people I wonder about doing questionable things locally, but not those two. And why ask me about them?¡±


    ¡°One of their schoolmates went missing. She works for B&F, so we got dragged in to the investigation, in case they know anything that can help us figure out where to look, or maybe even why she might have gone missing,¡± Asper explained.


    ¡°You do know that Elaine Allyns is the local Daoine Si noble in this area, and owns most of the land here?¡± Umber asked.


    ¡°We understand that,¡± Balston said, nodding. Something caught his eye on Thornfield¡¯s desk. He got up and wandered over to it, and picked up the large white volume that was sitting there. ¡°I haven¡¯t seen this edition of the DIC manual since I got out of the academy.¡± He looked up at Umber. ¡°This is almost an antique.¡±


    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    Umber closed his eyes, shook his head, and took a sip of his tea. ¡°I can assure you we keep it up to date. Every week or so, Thornfield dumps a packet of papers for me to add in.¡± He pointed to the one stack in his in box. ¡°Haven¡¯t gotten around to doing this week¡¯s. It¡¯s been a little busy.¡±


    Balston opened the book. ¡°This brings back some old memories,¡± he said, thumbing through the various sections. ¡°`Never take your investigee¡¯s intelligence for granted,¡¯¡± he read. ¡°`Nor their stupidity.¡¯¡± He chuckled a little. ¡°They just don¡¯t write them like that any more.¡±


    ¡°As I was saying,¡± Asper said, giving his workmate a dark look, ¡°We¡¯re not accusing Lady Elaine or Mistress Gan of anything. We merely want to ask them what they know about the missing Violetta Greenleaf. Maybe they¡¯ve heard from her, about her plans, her friends.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s not in trouble, is she?¡± Umber asked. ¡°I mean, she¡¯s not suspected of running off with secret plans or anything, is she? That might make a difference to how Lady Elaine or Mistress Gan might react.¡±


    ¡°As far as we know, she went on vacation, and never showed back up.¡± Asper picked up his tea cup. ¡°There¡¯s some worry that her disappearance might be linked to some other cases, but we don¡¯t know.¡±


    Umber thought about this for a minute. ¡°Like Master Gwaher of Comrie?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Gwaher? You know about his case?¡± Balston looked up from the manual he was thumbing through, rather surprised.


    Umber shrugged. ¡°One day, Mistress Gan and I had a talk over lunch. She told me a little about it, and how the DIC people at Comrie gave her a rough time.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d heard about that,¡± Asper said. ¡°Byrony said we¡¯d have to be careful how we approached her. But you¡¯ve met her?¡±


    ¡°Yes, although I haven¡¯t spent a lot of time with her. First met her when she moved here to live on one of Lady Elaine¡¯s farmsteads. We bumped into each other when she came to town and had lunch. She¡¯s a very sensible, kind woman. I got the impression she¡¯d been through more than she wanted to let on about. She also lives with a colony of Pixies, which I suspect shows a lot about her temperament.¡±


    ¡°Byrony said you had a lot of potential as an investigator,¡± Asper said, nodding. ¡°The fact you already have established a relationship with her may help us a lot.¡±


    ¡°Well, at least I know what she thinks of rude and pushy investigators who won¡¯t listen to her,¡± Umber said.


    ¡°Noted,¡± Asper said, looking at his co-worker.


    ¡°What?¡± Balston said, suddenly dropping the DIC manual on the floor in reaction. It fell down and splayed open. ¡°See what you made me do?¡± he said, bending over to pick it up. Several slips of paper slid out, including one in an envelope.


    ¡°Well, well, look what I found,¡± Balston said, putting the DIC manual back on the desk. ¡°It was just tucked into the manual.¡±


    He walked over and handed the envelope to Umber. ¡°Seems your senior was holding out on you. Doesn¡¯t look like he opened it though. Looks like he was just being a jerk.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s Thornfield ever since I got here,¡± Umber said, taking the letter from the investigator. He ran a finger over the address. ¡°Never thought he¡¯d take to stealing someone else¡¯s mail, though.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯ll probably deny stealing it...he¡¯d say he just put it away for safekeeping since you were on your day off, and then he conveniently forgot about it,¡± Balston said, . He frowned as he spoke, crossing his arms.


    ¡°Sounds like you¡¯ve had some experience,¡± Asper said.


    ¡°Indeed. Long-timers at smaller Dragon Web stations tend to be all alike. In it for the black market trade grift and terrified of some real DIC work, and who all make their first year juniors miserable.¡± Balston shook his head. ¡°My first year senior pulled stunts like this. With letters from my father! And when he complained, that¡¯s exactly what he was told.¡±


    ¡°Is he still terrorizing first years?¡± Umber asked.


    Balston shook his head. ¡°He went out to Harani on vacation. I heard he went on an expedition with others to visit some of the mines and maybe do a little prospecting a few years ago. His gryphon turned on him and mauled him to death. Takes a lot to get one of those mounts to do that, especially the ones that are selected for hire. I heard he was a bloody pulp by the time they got the animal off him. Not the way I want to go.¡±


    Asper shuddered. ¡°Me, either.¡±


    All three of them fell silent for a moment, lost in their thoughts.


    ¡°So, are you going to read what Commander Byrony said?¡± Balston asked, breaking the silence.


    Umber shook off the dark image that Balston¡¯s story brought to mind. In his case, the face of the dragonkin he pictured suspiciously looked like Thornfield, and he didn¡¯t like the fact his mind could do that, even as rotten a mentor his senior was.


    ¡°Uh, yeah.¡± He unsealed the letter and smoothed it flat on his desk and began to read the clean precise handwriting. ¡°I guess I should.¡± After scanning it, he began to read it outloud to the two Dragonkin:


    I have not forgotten what a useful aide you were to have during our recent special operation, and was pleased to inform your uncle of what an excellent young candidate for the DIC you are turning into. He sends his best regards, and was quite pleased I took up his suggestion to have you aid me during the operation. I suspect he¡¯ll write you all about it.


    Let me say again that was a pleasure to work with you, and I am hoping after your first year, we will get the pleasure again. If there was some way to pull you out now, I would do it, but the DIC wants all of us to go through the first year madness, so just know you have my backing.


    As for me, as soon as I returned, Master Investigator put me into another, larger special investigation as investigator manager. It¡¯s a very large and complex situation. And that is one of the reasons I am writing to you. I might not be able to come swoop you out to be my aide at this time, but you can still help.


    One aspect of this investigation are the disappearance of several people. I will be sending two of my operatives  to question the Lady Elaine Allyns and Mistress Gan Thistleblossom about one of the missing persons, who was a schoolmate of theirs.  I don¡¯t know if you¡¯ve had much interaction with either woman, but we really need their cooperation. They are in no way suspects, but they¡¯ve had a long-standing relationship with the missing woman, and we can use their insight.  Unfortunately for Mistress Thistleblossom, she was also known to someone who went missing in Comrie, and had a quite bad experience with the DIC agent there. I have briefed my two agents about the situation and how  I think they ought  to handle Mistress Thistleblossom.  And let me just say, I don¡¯t trust that your senior is the man to handle this situation.  If possible, please help them arrange to interview the two women, and keep Thornfield out of this.


    ¡°It kind of amazes me how the Commander can remember so many of us and our strengths and weaknesses,¡± Asper said, when Umber finished.


    ¡°Bah,¡± Balston said. He perched himself on the edge of Thornfield¡¯s desk and picked up his tea mug. ¡°They probably keep a list of hard to live with DIC agents at these small stations. With files. All the most promising young people do their first year at places like that.¡±


    ¡°Then why did I get sent to the Harani Town station?¡± Asper asked. ¡°My senior was an excellent person. We still stay in touch.¡±


    Balston shrugged. ¡°Maybe you were a late bloomer. Or there were so many people in that cohort there weren¡¯t enough troublesome seniors to go around. Or just the luck of the draw.¡± He turned to Umber. ¡°More impressive was what the Commander said about you. Byrony has always been one to stick by his people. And you are now one of his people.¡±


    ¡°This is true,¡± Asper said. ¡°And you were fortunate that he didn¡¯t open the message, as well. No telling how he would have reacted to hearing the Commander tell you keep him away. He probably would have had the local constable to drag her here to interrogate her, just out of spite. And that would have been the end of us trying to learn anything useful about Mistress Violetta Greenleaf, wherever she is.¡±


    ¡°So you will help us with Allyns and Thistleberry?¡± Balston asked.


    ¡°Of course I¡¯ll do what I can. Mistress Gan is too nice to need Thornfield¡¯s touch,¡± Umber said, nodding his head. ¡°But I¡¯m just a First Year. I only have so much influence.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t underestimate yourself,¡± Asper said, clapping Umber on the arm. ¡°You already have Byrony¡¯s eye, and you¡¯ve made a connection with Thistleberry that¡¯s way beyond doing the start of an investigation contact.¡±


    ¡°Remember what the third Master Investigator put into the DIC manual -`When it comes to information gathering, one good relationship can reveal more than a thousand threats during questioning.¡¯¡± Balston said. ¡°And you have already made some progress there.¡±


    Umber rubbed the bottom of his chin. ¡°I don¡¯t have any real connection to Lady Elaine, although I have with her sister. But Lady Arriane is on the White Isle right now, so I don¡¯t think I have an in there right now.¡±


    Asper nodded. ¡°That is all right. She¡¯s a high noble lady. There are procedures to get an audience with her. I¡¯ve already sent a message to her steward to set up an audience time.¡±


    Umber nodded, looking slightly relieved. ¡°She¡¯s very kind and willing to help people, but she has a lot of things to take care of.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s to be expected,¡± Asper said.


    ¡°But if she knows it¡¯s about an old friend of hers, it would be her style to want to help.¡± Umber sighed. ¡°That would have been just as true with Mistress Gan, maybe even more so, if those fools in Comrie hadn¡¯t decided that she was the most likely suspect for her headmaster¡¯s disappearance too early in the investigation.¡±


    ¡°Gut hunches turn out to be indigestion more often than reality,¡± Balston said, once more quoting from the DIC manual. ¡°They need to carve that into some investigators¡¯ foreheads.¡±


    ¡°She doesn¡¯t come to town very often.¡± Umber picked up his teacup. ¡°I could send her a message, maybe, or go visit her?¡±


    ¡°One of us needs to be there, too,¡± Asper said. ¡°How would she deal with that?¡±


    ¡°I could take you to her place tomorrow, maybe? She¡¯d like that a whole lot better than coming here to the station. How are you around Pixies? No Ixip, please. Thistleberry is quite fond of her Pixie companions.¡±


    Asper sighed. ¡°Pixie dust makes me sneeze. I¡¯ll take some medicine first.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps we should talk with Lady Elaine first?¡± Balston suggested.


    ¡°She is her close friend,¡± Umber said, nodding. ¡°She¡¯d understand the good way to approach her.¡±


    ¡°That sounds like a plan.¡± Asper said nodding. He stood up. ¡°We¡¯re taking rooms over at Goblin Inn. If you can, come see us after work.¡±


    ¡°Now, what do I tell Thornfield?¡± Umber asked as the two men headed for the door.


    ¡°Ah,¡± Balston said. He handed Umber a large envelope. ¡°We¡¯re coming to audit last year¡¯s books. I¡¯m sure he leave all that to you.¡±


    Umber looked down at the papers he was given. ¡°I bet. And I bet he¡¯ll find plenty of reasons to lay low, while you¡¯re at it.¡±


    ¡°No doubt. But the audit is real. We¡¯ve got a co-worker coming up from Meridae to do the auditing while we¡¯re dealing with questioning. Byrony has his eye on Thornhill, I believe.¡± Asper opened the door. ¡°We¡¯ll see you this evening.¡±


    Umber sank down into his chair, contemplating the turn of events. Just then the alarm sounded, announcing the afternoon¡¯s freight shipment.


    ¡°No rest, I guess.¡± Placing the envelope carefully on his desk, he headed back to the freight area.

 Day 18 of the Warming Month, Continued 5

    Chapter 59


    Day 18 of the Warming Month, Continued 5


    They say the DIC runs on tea. There is a reason for that. Strong drink may make an investigator feel like a champion, but leads to questionable decisions, emotional swings and babbling tongues. It is perfectly fine to ply the person you are investigating with these things, but if you want a clear head to realize what¡¯s going on behind the pleasant or sad words, tea keeps you sharp.


    DIC Manual


    Thornfield Witstone looked at Mayor Turbot and then back at the cloth-wreathed Tibart, who took a seat in one of the chairs surrounding a low table where the wine carafe and a tray of savories sat. Whinzer refilled his glass and took a seat to the right of him. Both Turbot and Whinzer looked back at him expectantly, but something about the newcomer made the back of his neck tingle.


    He took another sip of the wine Turbot had pressed in his hand as he came in. He recognized the taste. It was a vintage that came from just over the the Shadowlands, in an area well-known for its superior variety of Twilight grapes. It also was on the list of goods that only came through Redbeard¡¯s bottleneck of unsanctioned trading. This kept the vintage at high costs, and he had only drunk it a few times.


    His spikes must have reflected his pleasure at the beverage. ¡°So you like that, do you?¡± Whinzer said. ¡°Come on man, sit down. Let¡¯s talk business.¡±


    Thornfield looked at Turbot, who indicated one of the chairs. Turbot took the other and looked up at him, his chubby cheeks marked with an uncertain smile looking up at the Dragonkin man. ¡°Did we choose a bad time?¡±


    Thornfield shrugged. ¡°A DIC VIP carriage was coming in as I left the station. I left that numbskull Umber to take care of things.¡±


    ¡°Any idea what it was for?¡± Tibart said. His voice was deep and raspy.


    ¡°Don¡¯t know.¡± Thornfield took his chair. ¡°They pop through from time to time. Getting close to yearly inspections time.¡± He put his glass down on the table. ¡°It shouldn¡¯t have much impact on what we came to talk about. In fact, it¡¯s damn good timing. They¡¯ll be leaving me alone for the rest of the year.¡±


    ¡°Fortunate indeed,¡± the veiled man said.


    He looked up at Thornfield, and for a moment, Thornfield got a glimpse of his face, the gray pallid skin and icy blue eyes of a Trow, a people who were to the Shadowlands what the Daoine were to the Sunlit Lands. He didn¡¯t think much of his race. There were a lot of them involved in the unsanctioned trade business, and in the towns near Brightwater they had large numbers, many who had never seen the land beyond the Boundary Wall. They were major go-betweens between merchants and the Dragonweb stations and Redbeard¡¯s people. Yet something about this particular man made him feel uncomfortable.


    ¡°That¡¯s true. They¡¯ll leave me alone long enough that we can get the new system set up,¡± Thornfield said. ¡°We¡¯ll figure out how to deal with next year¡¯s audit in plenty of time.¡± He reached for one of the savories on the table. ¡°Tell me again, what the deal we¡¯re looking at consists of.¡±


    The Trow shifted. ¡°As you know, the consortium I represent bypasses the Brightwater gang and Redbeard¡¯s cut on incoming merchandise. It works out to something like a fifteen or twenty percent discount to Redbeard¡¯s prices. Whether you pass them onto your customer base, or pocket the difference is no matter to us.¡±


    Turbot¡¯s eyes brightened at the mention of the discounts.


    ¡°How are you getting this stuff across the barrier?¡± Thornfield asked.


    ¡°Let¡¯s just call that a trade secret,¡± Tibart said. ¡°But if you¡¯re worried about our ability to deliver as promised, we are willing to let you do a trial period. Just give us a quarter of your orders this month, and half next month, and see how we perform.¡±


    ¡°And what¡¯s our part of the deal,¡± Turbot asked.


    Tibart picked up his wine glass and looked deep into the red liquid. ¡°It¡¯s not that much. We will send you shipments of things you request. Once a month, we will also send a special shipment marked by our logo. Do not open these. They will be picked up by one of our people who knows what to do next.¡±


    He took a sip of his wine. ¡°I cannot stress the importance of not sticking your nose into what you are being asked to ignore. Beyond that, we want you to be our eyes here. We will ask for information. Right now we are interested in the movements of certain people.¡± He put his glass down, reached into his sleeve, and took out a rolled up piece of paper, which he handed to Thornfield. ¡°This is more your line of work than Mayor Turbot¡¯s.¡±


    Thornfield unrolled the paper. It was covered with a list of names done in fine, elegant handwriting. His eyebrows raised as he read it. ¡°You want information about the comings and goings of Arriane Allyns?¡±


    ¡°We do. She is busy at school with the White Circle, and as you might guess, the White Circle doesn¡¯t quite approve of what we are doing. Her movements might help us stay ahead of any actions they may try to do to¡­interfere...with our operations here.¡±


    ¡°The apothecary? Why?¡± Thornfield asked.


    ¡°Potential customer,¡± Tibart said. ¡°We are interested in who he is getting his supplies from.¡±


    ¡°Lana Redstone?¡± Thornhill rubbed the back of his neck. ¡°She¡¯s just one of the clerks at the Dragonweb counter.¡±


    ¡°Her father ¨C Anthin Redstone is far more than just the type of man who is worth ignoring. A power broker who has come into our sights lately. Anything we can learn about him will benefit our alliance.¡±


    ¡°And who is this Gan Thistleberry? I don¡¯t even know her name.¡±


    Tibart smiled. ¡°I¡¯m not sure why she¡¯s on the list, but she knows so many people ¨C friends with Lady Elaine, for one. She just moved here recently, from Comrie. I hear she¡¯s also friends with Lady Arriane.¡± He leaned back in his chair.


    ¡°So men, you hear our terms. What say you?¡±


    Turbot nodded. ¡°Sounds acceptable to me.¡±


    Thornfield drained his glass. ¡°Count me in.¡±


    >>>>>>>>>>>>>> <<<<<<<<<<<<<<


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Later that afternoon, beneath a large sign that welcomed visitors to the Goblin¡¯s Rest Inn, a young man who carried himself with the look of a military man, but who was dressed in the clothes of a local farmer, walked into the common room.


    It was too early for the crowd who would fill the tap room up after their day¡¯s labors, and the room was not very crowded. Tilly, the bar maid, was wiping the counter down as the man walked in.


    ¡°Why, aren¡¯t you a sight for sore eyes, Taran Woodway?¡± Tilly said, stopping what she was doing. ¡°Been a long time since you last walked through those doors.¡±


    He walked over to the bar. ¡°Been busy with the King¡¯s business down by the Boundary Lands, but they gave me a leave. Got here as quick as I could,¡± he said, leaning against the wooden counter. ¡°Sounds like you missed me.¡±


    ¡°Maybe. Some. See your brother sometimes, when he gets off from the smithy, and once in a great while, your little brother will stop by, but Lady Elaine¡¯s been keeping him busy with that friend of hers who moved in.¡± She filled a tankard of ale and handed it to him. ¡°This one¡¯s on the house for our brave soldier. How¡¯s your mother doing?¡±


    ¡°Thanks, Tilly. I needed that.¡± He picked up the tankard and took a sip. ¡°How¡¯s Ma? She¡¯s been keeping busy. I think that little brother of mine is the first one of us who¡¯s going to get married, and she¡¯s doing all sorts of things to get ready.¡± He sighed. ¡°I¡¯ve missed a lot being away, it seems.¡±


    ¡°Well, Rob¡¯s Lily is a lovely girl. I talk to her sometimes at the cafe. I think you¡¯ll like having her for a sister ¨C if you ever get to come home and stay for awhile.¡±


    ¡°Maybe that day will happen,¡± Taran said, although his tone wasn¡¯t particularly hopeful. ¡°Lots of work to do with the King¡¯s Guard first, though.¡± He turned his back to the bar to look around the room, and saw a familiar face. ¡°Excuse me, Tilly.¡± Taking his tankard he walked across the room.


    While Taran chatted to Tilly, Gweir Blackthorne sat in a corner of the common room, not paying any attention to what was going on at the bar, his hand curled around a tankard of ale, his eyes staring into the big fireplace against the far wall, a dark, serious glower to his face, a warning in a way to leave him alone. As he was the spouse of Lady Elaine Allyns, and thus the nobleman of this area, and well-known, he needed no other warnings to be left in peace for his brooding. Even Tilly had made a point to stay away as much as possible.


    The glower did not stop Taran, who headed directly to Gweir¡¯s table. ¡°Captain?¡± he said, standing next to the older man.


    Gweir shook his head, as if coming out of a daze. ¡°Woodway?¡± His dark look softened a bit as he looked up at the young soldier. ¡°You managed to get away from your father today?¡±


    ¡°Wasn¡¯t hard,¡± Taran said, sitting down at the table next to Gweir. ¡°I think he ran out of stories to tell.¡±


    Gweir shook his head. ¡°Your father? Run out of stories? Impossible.¡±


    Taran took a draw on his ale. ¡°You know us too well, Captain. Truth is, I escaped. Maybe I¡¯ve been away from home too long. It kind of feels like the walls are closing in on me.¡±


    ¡°I understand that one,¡± Gweir said, picking up his own tankard. ¡°We¡¯ve been on leave five days, and I¡¯ve been home four of them. Somehow, today, the quietness, the normalcy of it all...it almost feels like...like¡­¡±


    ¡°Like it¡¯s someone else¡¯s life?¡± Taran said.


    Gweir looked up at his companion and smiled, a bitter sad smile. ¡°Happening to you, too?¡±


    ¡°My Ma means well. She¡¯s been fixing all my favorite foods, and telling me all about what¡¯s been happening to my brothers. She¡¯s really excited for Rob getting married later this year.¡± He leaned forward and rested his left elbow on the table, while drawing stick figures in a bit of spilled beer with his right hand. ¡°My sisters keep inviting their girlfriends over, hoping one of them catch my fancy. I¡¯ve known them all since we were in swaddling, and they¡¯re all more like sisters to me than anybody I¡¯d want to pair off with. Yesterday I tried to help my Da around the farm to have something to do, but he shooed me away. Rob¡¯s already done the spring plowing and it¡¯s too early for the weeding. So today, I came to town. Walked it instead of rode, to kill more time.¡± He signaled to Tilly, who was with another customer, and she nodded at him. ¡°I thought maybe I might be able to talk to Pash at the smithy, but he was too busy working on a rush order, and most of my old gang of friends are busy with their adult lives and don¡¯t have time to hang out with people on leave.¡±


    He leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. ¡°Is it bad that this doesn¡¯t feel like home any more? I keep thinking about being back in camp where I know what to do when without feeling guilty. I miss it.¡±


    Tilly walked over with two tankards on a tray. ¡°You two want anything else?¡±


    ¡°Ah, Tilly my sweet, you know just how to win a man¡¯s heart,¡± Taran said. ¡°Any stew ready yet? I missed my lunch.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll check. If not stew, I¡¯ll bring something. If just to hear you say all those sweet things I know you don¡¯t mean. A man like you needs more than beer in his belly.¡± She turned to Gweir. ¡°And you, Milord?¡±


    ¡°Stew sounds good,¡± he said nodding.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be right back,¡± the barmaid said.


    They watched Tilly walk back to the front of the bar and then over towards the kitchens.


    Gweir finished the last of the ale in his old tankard. ¡°I was supposed to go out with my boy today, but I woke up in such a foul mood, all I wanted to do was escape. I thought Edelkyn was going to skin me alive when I announced I was going hunting.¡±


    ¡°Nana Edelkyn can be scary when she thinks you¡¯re in the wrong,¡± Taran said. ¡°I still remember the time she caught me dragging baby Rob up on the stable roof when he was only three.¡± He rubbed his backside. ¡°I still remember that switching.¡±


    Gweir chuckled, a genuine laugh this time. ¡°I think she would have done the same thing to me this morning if she could have gotten away with it. I know Elaine was disappointed, but she could see the mood on me.¡±


    Taran drained the last sip out of his tankard, pushed it to the center of the table, and pulled the fresh one towards him. ¡°How¡¯d the hunt go?¡±


    ¡°Too easy. Got my deer before I had gotten a chance to outride my restlessness. Rizzi went out with me. He¡¯s turned into a pretty good squire. You remember Rizzi?¡±


    ¡°Rizzi...let me think,¡± Taran said. ¡°Hmm...Last time I saw him, he wasn¡¯t any taller than this table. Shock of bright red hair and freckles everywhere. Really big ears.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s a bit taller now,¡± Gweir said. ¡°Still has the bright red hair and freckles. Really talented tracking animals. Elaine uses him as her gamekeeper, although most of his work is keeping rabbits and deer out of the gardens.¡±


    Tilly walked back into the common room, carrying a tray. She headed towards their table.


    ¡°Anyway, I sent Rizzi home with the deer, and just rode for a while. It¡¯s interesting how woodlands change. You don¡¯t notice if you¡¯re walking through them all the time, but be gone for a while¡­¡±


    ¡°Did you get lost, Captain? In your own woodland?¡± Taran picked up his fresh tankard.


    ¡°Almost.¡± He gave his underling a rather sheepish grin that said just how lost he was. ¡°Then I found the road, and before long, I was here.¡± He took a sip of his ale. ¡°There are worse places to end up.¡±


    Tilly reached them with her tray. ¡°Well, it¡¯s not tonight¡¯s stew. It¡¯s this afternoon¡¯s soup. Potato and onion, and bread fresh out of the oven. I hope this will do.¡±


    ¡°Reshin¡¯s potato soup? How did I get so lucky?¡± Taran said, as Tilly put a bowl in front of him.


    ¡°Your mother¡¯s prayers, probably,¡± Tilly replied as she put a basket of bread down, and a bowl in front of Gweir. ¡°Soup will do you more good than what¡¯s in your tankard.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s odd talk from a barkeep,¡± Taran replied.


    ¡°Only do it when I care about the person,¡± Tilly said. With a little wave, she headed back to her station at the bar.


    Taran dipped his spoon into the soup. It was creamy, with flecks of pepper and little rafts of melted butter floating on the surface. ¡°Umm. Good. Now this is one thing I do miss. Military cooks just can¡¯t match this.¡±


    ¡°True,¡± Gweir said. ¡°Like Edelkyn¡¯s scones.¡± He dipped his spoon into his own bowl.


    The two men ate mostly in silence for awhile. Taran lifted up his bowl to get the last of his soup, took a drink from his tankard, then wiped his mouth. ¡°It¡¯s been good sharing a meal with you, Captain. But I¡¯d like to see if my brother is less busy now. I really wanted to talk to him. He doesn¡¯t come to Da¡¯s very often any more.¡± He stood up.


    Gweir put his spoon down and stood up as well. ¡°Maybe...maybe it¡¯s time I should go home, too.¡±


    ¡°Might be a good time to make new plans with your boy. Maybe you can get Rizzi to show him how to hunt rabbits or something.¡±


    Gweir nodded. ¡°Maybe. He¡¯d like that, I think.¡±


    They headed for the counter where they paid Tilly.


    ¡°I see the soup has worked its magic,¡± she said, pocketing the tip Gweir gave her.


    ¡°Or something like that, best of all barkeeps¡± Taran said.


    She laughed as the two of them headed for the front. As they made it to the foyer that separated the sleeping side of the inn from the bar, two Dragonkin men walked in. Taran stopped a moment, and looked at the two of them who were walking up to the counter.


    ¡°Hey Captain, didn¡¯t we see the taller guy on our mission?¡±


    Gweir nodded. ¡°That¡¯s Asper Bloodstone. He works close with Commander Byrony. I wonder what is bringing them to Goblin Market? It¡¯s not the soup, as good as it is.¡±


    Asper noted Gweir looking at them. He nodded, but made no move to call him over.


    ¡°I¡¯ll guess we¡¯ll find out later, or not,¡± he said, and the two men headed out of the door.

 Day 19 of the Warming Month

    Chapter 60


    What will the messenger bring today,


    One two three


    What will the messenger bring today


    to give to you and me?


    One for happiness


    Two for pain


    Three for sunshine


    Four for rain


    Five for a kitten


    Six for a bird


    Seven for a sorrow


    Sharp as any word


    Count it out, count it out


    One, two, three -


    What will the messenger


    Bring to me?


    Traditional children¡¯s song, collected by Meaves Goldstone of the Alder Branches, published in   Songs of the Sunlit Lands


    It was the day before Crossing day in the city of Greenholt on the White Isle, the day that marks the time of year where the sunlight hours become longer than the night hours as the world moves towards summer. Many places in An Lar barely marked its passing, but on the White Isle it was a day of celebration, and the city was busy decking itself out in early spring flowers and emblems of the sun all over the town. On the next day, there would be a big public gathering near the shrine of the Lifegiver with food and music and storytelling.


    Arriane had left the White Circle chapter house for the day, as the academy was closed for the holiday, and the Oldest had retreated to her oceanside cottage and the rest of the Circle who were tied to teaching, had scattered for the day.


    She hung a solar disk onto the front door, then stood back, looking at the effect. Both sides of the door were adorned with pots of spring greenery, and pansies added their color in the windows.


    ¡°Lovely,¡± said a voice behind her.


    Arriane turned and saw her mother standing there, carrying a basket full of food she had bought at the market.


    ¡°You made it back! Was it bad?¡± she asked, taking the basket from her mother¡¯s hand.


    ¡°Well it is the day before a holiday,¡± Gwenyth Allyns said, rubbing her hands as she relinquished her burden. ¡°People were everywhere, and they were almost out of Jabon¡¯s fruit and spice mix, but I did manage to get some. Can¡¯t make Crossing Day cookies without them!¡±


    They walked inside of the house. The front room was a sitting room, with a fireplace in one corner, elaborate couches and comfortable chairs adorned with throws and cushions, a bookcase loaded with volumes in elegant bindings, and a curio case filled with bits and pieces from Gwenyth¡¯s life. It was a bit overwrought for the simpleness of the house, but it did reflect Gwenyth¡¯s status as a Daoine noblewoman, child of one of the older estates.. Two doors led out into other parts of the house, one towards the kitchen, and one towards a hallway with other rooms. The air had a delicious smell to it, and Gwenyth¡¯s eyes looked at her daughter appreciatively.


    ¡°Someone¡¯s been busy in the kitchen, I believe,¡± she said.


    ¡°I put the stew on to simmer,¡± Arriane said. ¡°There¡¯s so much to do that I thought I could get started there.¡±


    ¡°I always said you were a smart child.¡± She led the way into the kitchen where a large pot was simmering on the cookstove.


    ¡°Well, tomorrow is the big Alder Branch meetup for the holiday. I couldn¡¯t have my mother looking all bleary eyed for it. Which is what you¡¯d look like if you stayed up all night fixing stew for that army.¡± Arriane sorted through the items her mother had brought home in her basket ¨C cabbage, mushroom, carrots, onion, and put most of them away in the cooling box. ¡°I thought I¡¯d make some savory handpies as well. I told Sammisa I would bring some with me tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°Oh, are some of them coming to the Shrine tomorrow?¡± Gwenyth said, gathering up her fruit and spice mix to one side.


    ¡°Of course! The Oldest will be there. They¡¯ll be there as a part of her honor guard.¡± Arriane took the vegetables she left out and put them in a bowl she filled with water and began to wash them.


    Gwenyth grabbed an apron from where it hung on a hook. ¡°Well, I never paid that much attention to what the White Circle does on Crossing Day. They keep me so busy with the Food Committee, that I barely have time to notice anything else.¡±


    ¡°I noticed that.¡± Arriane moved through the kitchen and took a grater out of a cabinet, and some bowls. Returning to where she had been working, she took out a cutting board and began to chop a carrot into easier to handle chunks and began to shred them over one of the bowls. ¡°The last time you got to really enjoy Crossing Day was the first year we got here.¡±


    ¡°Enjoyment is a matter of viewpoint,¡± Gwenyth said. She pulled out a canister marked flour. ¡°Feeding hungry people is something I like to do, more than milling around a crowded square and listening to people give speeches.¡±


    Arriane shook her head. ¡°There¡¯s more to do at the festival than listen to speeches. There¡¯s music and dancing and -¡±


    ¡°That was fun when I was younger,¡± Gwenyth said, adding the sugar canister to her work space. ¡°But this is what I find fun now. As you grow older, you¡¯ll find some things you enjoyed when you were younger, aren¡¯t quite as fun.¡± She brought out some eggs and butter.


    ¡°I¡¯m glad I was able to be here to help this time,¡± Arriane said, finishing up with grating carrots. She took the onion she left out and began to peel it.


    Gwenyth, in the middle of measuring sugar into a large bowl, hovered her hand over the canister, put the measure down, then went to Arriane, and wrapped her arms around her. ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re here, too. Who knows what next year will bring? You¡¯re turning into a grownup so fast¡­¡±


    Arriane turned and hugged her mother. ¡°No matter what, I¡¯ll still be your daughter.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s true,¡± Gwenyth said. ¡°But your own life is starting to take over. And it looks like it¡¯s set to take you far away from me. I just want you to know I will miss you when it does.¡±


    There was a knock on the door.


    Gwenyth went to answer it. When she came back, she sighed deeply as she reentered the kitchen.


    ¡°Is something wrong?¡± Arriane asked.


    ¡°Remember how I said your life is set to take you away from me?¡± Gwenyth asked.


    Arriane continued to chop onions. ¡°What does that have to do with a knock on the door?¡±


    ¡°Sammisa dropped by with a note from the Oldest. Even on Crossing Day time, they wrap themselves more and more around you.¡± She daubed her eyes with the hem of her apron. ¡°My, that¡¯s a strong onion you have there.¡± She handed her daughter the note. ¡°I¡¯ll be back in a minute.¡±


    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Gwenyth fled the room.


    >>>>>>>>>>>>>> <<<<<<<<<<<<<<


    Cullin stood along the edge of his boundary, the section that faced Mistress Gan¡¯s farmstead, not far from the King¡¯s Highway. He stood there, frowning, his arms crossed, and nudged a small, loose stone with the toe of his boot. It tumbled onto Gan¡¯s side of the boundary.


    ¡°Why did this happen?¡± he asked. ¡°How?¡± In front of him, instead of the neat stone and railing fence that lined the rest of the boundary, there was a large gap, where the railing had been forced down.


    Leila the Nymph stepped out of the shadow of the woods. ¡°I could tell something was troubling you. What happened?¡±


    ¡°I felt something at the boundary here...a wrongness. When I got here, Salvange was chasing after his boar, who had pushed through the fence here. He stopped him before he had gotten very far. It¡¯s a good thing that Gan Thistleberry isn¡¯t using this field for anything.¡±


    They watched as the Woodwose, man-shaped but taller than any Daoine, covered from head to toe with reddish-brown hair, was busily harnessing a huge black boar nearly as tall as a man. All around the animal was a path of ripped up vegetation and holes gouged out of the earth, but the boar was calmly letting the Woodwose fasten his bonds.


    ¡°Well at least he stopped White Tusk before any real damage happened,¡± Leila said. ¡°I¡¯d have hated to see what might have happened if he had reached Gan¡¯s house.¡±


    ¡°Things like this are not supposed to happen.¡± He bent down, and brushed the stone of the fencing. ¡°Did White Tusk do this himself, or did someone call him over? It doesn¡¯t smell much of boar, but there¡¯s something there I don¡¯t recognize.¡±


    A goat in the field on Gan¡¯s side of the fence bleated.


    ¡°Goats!¡± Salvange said, as he fastened the last buckle on the boar¡¯s harness. He spit, tugged on his animal skin kilt, the only garment he was wearing, tugged his shepherd¡¯s bag back into place at his hip, picked up his spear, a rough stone-tipped affair and gave the harness lead a tug. ¡°Goats. Troublemakers all.¡±


    Rob Woodway came running up, pitchfork in hand. ¡°What the--¡±


    ¡°You missed the show, Rob,¡± Leila said,leaning against an unbroken part of the fencing. ¡°Salvange has it all in hand now.¡±


    ¡°Come on, you stupid pig,¡± Salvange said, tugging on the boar¡¯s lead. ¡°You¡¯ve gotten me into enough trouble for a day.¡± Looking rather forlorn, he gave the boar a gentle swat with the butt of his spear. ¡°It had to be the goats, I tell you,¡± he said. ¡°There¡¯s no way White Tusk would have busted that down if something wasn¡¯t taunting him.¡±


    Another goat looked up from where she was grazing and bleated at Salvange.


    ¡°Don¡¯t give me that sass, you, you¡­¡± Salvange said, taking a step toward the goat.


    ¡°A Woodwose!¡± Rob said, rather amazed by the wild man. ¡°I didn¡¯t know there were any Woodwoses around here. My Grandda used to tell me stories, but he said they all went to the Western Hills.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s a lot you don¡¯t know, young man,¡± the Woodwose said. ¡°Like how to keep track of those goats of yours. Especially that billy.¡± He stared at the gardener with intense, quite red eyes.


    ¡°Uh...I put them out to pasture earlier this morning, after milking the girls,¡± Rob said. ¡°Watched them walk into the field over there, not far from the barn.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what you think. Billy¡¯s been coming down here for at least the last week,¡± the Woodwose said. ¡°Found a way through your fencing. And the nannies followed.¡±


    ¡°So what?¡± Rob said. ¡°We¡¯re not using this field for anything more than hay, anyway. Still part of Mistress Gan¡¯s farm.¡± He gave the Woodwose a sharp look of his own.


    ¡°Rob has a point, Salvange,¡± Leila said. ¡°Mistress Gan¡¯s goats were minding their own business. Rob has no responsibility to creatures of Cullin¡¯s Forest. That boar of yours is all yours to deal with.¡±


    ¡°A boar did this?¡± Rob said, rather shocked, looking at the damage to the field. ¡°Was that what I heard?¡±


    ¡°The boar did it,¡± Cullin said. ¡°But how White Tusk got across the boundary, that¡¯s a different question. Even if the goats were taunting him, the boar shouldn¡¯t have been able to cross into Gan¡¯s field.¡± He tugged on his hat brim. ¡°Salvange, take your animal home. I¡¯ll get the Moss Men to come work on the fence. Don¡¯t let White Tusk back out until you hear from me.¡±


    Rob began to round up the goats. ¡°OK, girls, let¡¯s get back to where Betts and the cows are playing. Lots of good things to eat.¡± He started moving them towards the other pasture.


    Giving the Tree Shepherd a curt nod, the Woodwose gave the boar¡¯s lead, and they both hopped back over the wall.


    ¡°The question I have,¡± Leila said, as Rob moved off and Salvange disappeared into the forest, ¡°if the boar didn¡¯t do this himself, what caused the rail fence to give way?¡±


    ¡°Better yet,¡± Cullin said, ¡°who did it and why?¡±


    ¡°Maybe someone was trying to cause problems between the Forest and you and Gan or Lady Elaine?¡± Leila said.


    ¡°Or harm her. But why?¡± Cullin said.


    Leila shrugged. ¡°That I don¡¯t have an answer to.¡±


    ¡°The Lady Sulis asked me to protect Mistress Thistleberry. Maybe she didn¡¯t know why, but fate has a way to unwind itself,¡± he said. He stepped off the boundary wall. ¡°Maybe there¡¯s more need than I realized.¡±


    ¡°Now what?¡± the nymph asked.


    ¡°I think I should go and talk with Thistleberry,¡± the Tree Shepherd said.


    ¡°Good idea. Let¡¯s go,¡± Leila said. ¡°Anyway, I want to give her the book I just finished.¡±


    Cullin sighed, pulled his hat down a little more, and began walking.


    >>>>>>>>>>>>>> <<<<<<<<<<<<<<


    At the Goblin Market Dragon Station, it was a quiet moment at the customer counter. Wanna was taking care of the freight line, while Lana was handling both message delivery and ticket sales. Not that there was much business for tickets. People at Goblin Market didn¡¯t travel that much.


    ¡°Look at all the messages that Master Myron got in today! More than the Mayor got, by a long shot,¡± Sheena, whose main job was sorting, and occasionally delivering messages in town, said, bringing in a fresh batch in a box to set on the counter next to Lana. ¡°This is what came in on this morning¡¯s passenger carriage. Ten pieces. Why would anybody write to that strange old man?¡±


    ¡°The herbal business is rather widespread,¡± Wanna said. ¡°Even areas like Goblin Market have things that aren¡¯t common in other parts of the world.¡±


    ¡°I guess,¡± Sheena said. ¡°But he¡¯s still an odd person. I wonder if people met him if they¡¯d still want to do business with him. Three messages for the DIC office.¡± Sheena laid them on the counter next to her. ¡°That Umber,¡± she said, with a voice that sounded disapproving. ¡°I believe his uncle writes him every two days. More than his mother does.¡±


    ¡°He has close ties to his family,¡± Lana said. She began putting older messages into a separate box to make room for the new ones, avoiding looking at the other woman.


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s right. You talk to him a lot,¡± Sheena replied. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean anything by it. It¡¯s just that I¡¯m not used to family like that.¡± She pulled out a bundle of messages that had been tied together. ¡°These go to Allynswood.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll get Rizer on it. He can drive over there right away,¡± Wanna said. ¡°We have some freight heading there today as well.¡±


    Sheena nodded. ¡°Did you talk to either of those two DIC guys that came in a couple of days ago?¡± she asked. ¡°The taller one ¨C he¡¯s pretty dreamy.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t think you liked Gray types,¡± Lana said.


    ¡°Not most of them,¡± Sheena said, with a mildly wicked look. ¡°But I¡¯d make an exception for him.¡±


    Lana rolled her eyes.


    Just then, a woman came up to Wanna¡¯s window, with multiple bundles.


    ¡°Good morning, Mistress Cabris,¡± Wanna said as the Bauchan woman dropped the box of bundled packages on the counter. ¡°How goes the candy business?¡±


    ¡°Sweetly!¡± Sella Cabris said. She gave Wanna a big smile and gave a toss of her reddish hair. ¡°Ever since Lady Gwenyth Allyns moved to Greenholt with Lady Arriane, I get so many orders from the White Isle for some of my special candies. These need to go express, and get delivered today. Last minute orders for Crossing Day.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll see to it,¡± Wanna said.


    Sheena watched the two women for a moment, and then grabbed an empty message box from under the counter. ¡°Well, I better get back. Won¡¯t be long before the morning freight run, and that always has more messages than the morning express.¡±


    Wanna waved at her as she left. Lana visibly relaxed once she disappeared into the back.


    There weren¡¯t very many people in the building at the moment. There were a couple talking to a trip advisor, and three people sitting in the waiting area. They had come in on the morning express from Waterford by Glint, and Lana suspected they had belongings coming in on the freight shipment or else were waiting for someone to come pick them up. There wouldn¡¯t be another passenger carriage arriving for a couple of hours. These were scenes she had seen many times before, so she used the time to start sorting through her paperwork.


    She had almost gotten to the bottom of the stack when one of the local men made his way to the counter, almost hesitantly, as if he were afraid she was going to scold him.


    ¡°Master Hobber,¡± Lana said, trying to give him a reassuring smile. She had dealt with him before, and although she found him overly oily and condescending, she knew what he was involved in, and indeed, he knew her for part of a network he sometimes chose to use. Idly, she wondered if Umber had a file on him in the DIC office.


    ¡°I have a message to send,¡± he said quietly, shoving a sealed envelope towards her. It was not a standard Dragon Web message form, but then, she didn¡¯t expect one of those from him. It was marked with bright red seals, and she knew from past experience that they had been reinforced with some sort of magic. She could faintly see the enhanced glow from it. It made senders feel better when they used it, but it was a type of magic that was very easily broken with tools that were not that rare.


    She did not mention that to him as she passed on a standard message sleeve for him to fill out.


    ¡°It¡¯s one of those messages,¡± he said. ¡°You know what to do.¡±


    She gave him a curt nod, took the sealed message, placed it in the message sleeve and closed it up. ¡°To the usual?¡±


    He nodded.


    ¡°I¡¯ll make sure it gets out today,¡± she said, putting it below the counter.


    He nodded once more, turned, and hurried out of the station.


    ¡°That Hobber is a strange man,¡± Mistress Cabris said, as she finished up her business with Wanna. ¡°I don¡¯t know what Master Turbot sees in him.¡±


    ¡°It takes all types,¡± Wanna replied, handing Cabris her receipt. ¡°Anything else I can help you with?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be back in a minute,¡± Lana told Wanna.


    ¡°No rush,¡± she replied. ¡°You can see how busy we are.¡±


    Grabbing Hobber¡¯s letter, Lana grabbed her bag and walked to an empty room in the back. She took a small device out of it ¨C something larger than a typical jump stone, with a small shelf that could hold envelopes. Lana put the message on that. ¡°Hobber indeed is a strange man, but sometimes he comes up with good information.¡±


    She gingerly put the device on the desk that dominated the entire room. ¡°I hope Master Ruell finds this interesting.¡± Sliding the button, she stepped back and the message and device were no longer there. ¡°Wonder what my DIC grandfather would have thought about me sending off messages to the White Circle?¡±


    Picking up her bag, she headed back to the counter.

 Day 19 of the Warming Month, Continued

    Chapter 61


    Doing investigations means knowing when to bring people into your circle as allies, when to see them as possible targets, and the wisdom to tell the difference.


    DIC Manual


    The faint rattling of teacups was the only sound in the hallway leading to Elaine¡¯s personal parlor at the Allynswood manor house, except for the soft footsteps of two women and the occasional rattle of china on a tray. Tiba Redblossom, a young bauchan woman dressed in a somber blue maid¡¯s dress and white apron followed Edelkyn, Elaine¡¯s housekeeper, companion and former nanny, as they headed towards the parlor, Tiba¡¯s curly hair and large pointed ears sticking out from beneath the ruffles of a starched white cap that couldn¡¯t really control the chaos of her head. Sucking on her bottom lip, she knit her brows together trying hard not to rattle the tray as she followed Edelkyn, a formidable woman when her ire was up, and it currently was quite high.


    ¡°This is not right,¡± Edelkyn said in a voice barely above a whisper, frowning, as she carried a tray of small sweet cakes, and her disapproval of the situation in hand made Tiba rattle the tray just a little more.


    ¡°What do those dragonkin mean coming here?¡± Edelkyn continued under her breath, a voice all the people who worked in the mansion knew was a danger signal. ¡°What? What has our lady to do with people from the DIC?¡± She hurrumped, and Tiba rattled the tray again. ¡°And the audacity of them coming here while Master Gweir and Tam are out riding! What was Jessup doing, letting them in, while Master Gweir was out?¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t know, Ma¡¯am¡± Tiba said in a soft, tiny, almost quivering voice. Her tray rattled again.


    Edelkyn turned back enough to give her compatriot a small smile. Tiba could feel herself relaxing at the look of approval.


    ¡°Don¡¯t mind this old woman, child. It¡¯s not your job to know, Tiba. You¡¯re doing fine. Don¡¯t mind me. I just don¡¯t like it when things like this happen. It¡¯s not right. It¡¯s not seemly.¡±


    ¡°Surely Mistress hasn¡¯t done anything the DIC would be looking into,¡± Tiba said.


    ¡°Surely not, indeed,¡± Edelkyn said nodding vehemently. ¡°It¡¯s not like our lady has anything to do with whatever underhanded business that Turbot and his people are up to. The very idea!¡±


    They reached the parlor door, and Edelkyn knocked lightly. Jessup, an older man in the leather breeches and black jacket that was the livery of those who were part of the household staff, and who had been serving the Allyns for three generations, opened it, and let the two women in.


    Edelkyn huffed at him as she stepped through.


    He ignored her obvious irritation. ¡°Took you long enough,¡± he muttered in a voice only the two women could hear.


    ¡°It was my fault,¡± Tiba said, dropping her head, hiding behind Edelkyn. ¡°I couldn¡¯t find the good tea chest.¡±


    ¡°Hush, girl, that¡¯s enough. You did fine,¡± Edelkyn said in a soft voice. ¡°Someone,¡± she said, sending a dagger glance at Jessup, ¡°refilled the tea chest and put it back in the wrong place.¡± She stepped past Jessup. More loudly, she said, ¡°Bring out the tea cart, if you want to be helpful.¡±


    Elaine¡¯s receiving parlor was a comfortable, elegant room decorated with fine paneling and detailed vine sculpted stonework. Three large windows looked into her garden, filled with early spring flowers. Out in the garden, a group of birds dashed back and forth from tree to birdfeeder and birdbath. The furniture was just elegant enough, fine turned wooden chairs with comfortable upholstery, cushions and throws, to signal status, but not too much formality.


    Inside the sunny room, Elaine sat neatly in a roundbacked upholstered chair, her flowing blue silk gown falling into neat folds around her. She smiled beamingly at her company. To her left, two Dragonkin men sat on a sofa. One was slightly taller than the other, both dressed in the best red and gold DIC uniforms, crisp and collared and metal buttoned. The shorter one was obviously a little uncomfortable in these surroundings. The taller seemed more at ease and had obviously made some comment just before the two women had entered, but all conversation ceased as Edelkyn stepped forward. The silence was perhaps created by by Edelkyn¡¯s glare.


    Noticing where the Dragonkin men were looking, Elaine turned to face the incoming women.


    ¡°Edelkyn! There you are! I hope you brought some of those wonderful little tartlets you make so well,¡± Elaine said, smiling at her old nanny and companion, well aware of what she needed to do to calm the older woman down. ¡°Come sit next to me, and help me remember what these interesting fellows are here to tell me.¡±


    Edelkyn¡¯s look softened. ¡°Of course I did, child. They were fresh baked this morning. I hope our...company,¡± she said, looking up at the two Dragonkin, ¡°likes them as well as you do.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure they will,¡± Elaine said. ¡°Nobody makes sweet cakes as well as you do!¡±


    Jessup took that as his clue to roll the tea cart and position it neatly between the chairs and the sofa. Edelkyn positioned her tray of sweets on it, and took the tea service out of Tiba¡¯s hands. ¡°You can go now, child, but stay alert and near the bell,¡± she told the young woman. ¡°We might call for you if we need anything.¡±


    Tibia nodded gratefully, and exited the room.


    Picking up the teapot, Edelkyn shot a look at Jessup. ¡°You too, Jessup. I know you have some other duties to perform today. For one, we¡¯re getting pantry deliveries, and that¡¯s your job. I¡¯ll take care of our Lady Elaine here.¡±


    He pulled himself up to his full height, ran a hand through his graying hair. ¡°Mistress Edelkyn¡­¡±


    ¡°Edelkyn has a point,¡± Elaine said, smothering whatever protest that Jessup was about to launch. ¡°Someone has to oversee the household staff, especially on deliveries day. Neither of our guests have anything nefarious in their plans for me, and Edelkyn is more than enough chaperone for propriety.¡± Her voice held just a note of amusement. ¡°And she never gossips with the staff when I ask her not to.¡±


    Jessup, wilting a little, knew when he had been beat. ¡°As you will, ma¡¯am.¡± Turning he left.


    Giving Elaine her personal approval signal, Edelkyn poured tea and handed it first to Elaine, and then to the guests.


    ¡°I hope you like the tea,¡± Elaine said. ¡°It¡¯s a special blend. I¡¯m told the Oldest serves only this one at her meetings, but we save it for special company.¡±


    Both Dragonkin men took sips and made appropriate looks for tasting such a rare brew. ¡°Very nice,¡± the shorter one said.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    Edelkyn settled down in her chair after pouring her own tea. Elaine patted her hand, then popped one of the tartlets into her mouth, smiling. ¡°Edelkyn, meet Asper Bloodstone and Balston Mullin, stopping by Goblin Market as they are making some rounds for the DIC, annual audits and such. Asper tells me he worked recently with Gweir.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d tell you more,¡± Asper said, ¡°but I think what we did is still pretty restricted.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I know how that goes,¡± Elaine said, nodding. My husband¡¯s been in the King¡¯s Guard since before we were married. Still, it¡¯s a shame that Gweir and Tam had to miss you, but they are out today. I think Gweir¡¯s teaching Tam about hunting. With Gweir¡¯s work, they get to spend so little time together, I can¡¯t begrudge them.¡± She gave a wistful sigh, and looked out of the window, as if she could see them riding in the distance. ¡°There are times in life a boy needs his father. And Tam is definitely at that age.¡±


    ¡°Family time is important,¡± Balston said, a bit awkwardly. ¡°My father and I never got to spend much time together either. He traveled for the DIC a lot, and I spent a lot of time stuck at the creche school while my mother traveled with him. I had great teachers, but it¡¯s not quite the same.¡±


    ¡°True,¡± Elaine said.


    Asper Bloodstone, gave his partner a questioning look about the direction the talk was going in. To change the subject he raised his cup again and sipped it appreciatively. Lowering it, he smiled at Elaine and Edelkyn. ¡°They say the DIC runs on tea, but ours is never this good,¡± he said. ¡°I wish I could take this back with me to Sunderland. But even if I could afford to drink it at home, they¡¯d never buy it for Headquarters.¡± He sighed, regretfully, with just enough emphasis to start to charm the older woman.


    ¡°Yes, it takes good tea to start with, but good water is the secret,¡± Edelkyn said. ¡°We¡¯re blessed with excellent water here. Perhaps you could get one of those touchstone filters -¡±


    ¡°Oh, you¡¯ve started Edelkyn on one of her favorite subjects,¡± Elaine said, giggling a little. ¡°She can talk about the proper way to handle tea for hours.¡± Elaine passed the tray of sweets to him. Do have one of the tartlets, Master Bloodstone. They are made with fruit from our own gardens.¡±


    ¡°You would get along fine in Willowick, Mistress Edelkyn,¡± Asper said. ¡°Tea and its makings are very important there.¡± He took one of the offered sweets and tasted it. ¡°And get rich selling tea sweets, if this is the type of thing you bake. It¡¯s delicious.¡±


    Edelkyn beamed in his direction.


    He took another bite. ¡°Apricot?¡±


    ¡°We have excellent luck with them most years,¡± Elaine said, nodding. ¡°But I am afraid you can¡¯t whisk Edelkyn off to Sunderland. We need her here. Everything would fall apart without her!¡±


    ¡°Tell that to Tam when he runs off and I have to drag him back,¡± Edelkyn said.


    ¡°I do! Over and over again. He¡¯ll learn. Just like I did.¡± Elaine patted the older woman¡¯s hand again.


    Asper took a deep breath, let it out slowly, then put his cup down on the table, something did not pass Elaine¡¯s notice, and she sat up straighter, waiting for what the Dragonkin man had to say.


    ¡°I have to admit, Lady Elaine, that wanting to say hello to Gweir was not the only reason we stopped by today,¡± he said after a moment.


    Elaine raised her cup to her lips, elegantly taking a sip. ¡°Indeed? DIC business?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid so, yes,¡± Balston said, taking over at Asper¡¯s pausing to find the right words. Digging into his satchel and pulling out some papers he passed the top one over to Lady Elaine. ¡°We are looking for information about Violetta Greenleaf.¡±


    ¡°Violetta Greenleaf?¡± Elaine reacted to the name with true surprise. ¡°My friend Violetta Greenleaf?¡± She looked down at the paper Balston handed him. It was a missing person flyer, with a reasonable drawing of her old school friend splashed across it.


    Asper nodded. ¡°The Violetta Greenleaf who went to the school at Comrie with you, studied with both the Alder Branches and the Fireburners, and later went to work for Briarwood and Flysch.


    Elaine¡¯s face fell, and her eyebrows bunched up, somewhere between worry and anger. ¡°Yes, yes, I know her,¡± she said. ¡°She¡¯s missing? Is she in trouble?¡±


    Edelkyn reached over and rested a hand lightly on Elaine¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Violetta, that sweet thing? Oh dear. Whatever has happened?¡± Elaine laced her fingers into the older woman¡¯s hand for a moment, then let go.


    ¡°She¡¯s not in trouble with us, let me reassure you,¡± Balston said. ¡°She¡¯s not wanted for anything.¡±


    ¡°Missing?¡± Elaine asked. She reached out to pick her tea cup back up.


    ¡°She went missing earlier this year, over a month ago. She was vacationing in the Harani area, near the Gray Lands. But she never returned.¡±


    ¡°Oh my!¡± Elaine said, almost dropping her cup. ¡°Violetta was never one to just wander off without telling anybody anything. She was almost obsessively conscientious. Is..is she...is she...¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t know,¡± Asper said. ¡°We have a team out there investigating, but we haven¡¯t seen any sign of foul play so far.¡±


    ¡°Oh Violetta,¡± Elaine said, leaning into Edelkyn¡¯s shoulder, who in turn, soothed the younger woman with gentle strokes.


    ¡°Violetta is a smart and clever woman,¡± Edelkyn said. ¡°Remember when your mother had that tantrum about you studying with the Greenfellows? It was Violetta who talked sense to her, and got you to do what you wanted without ripping up the family. Whatever she¡¯s doing, she will be using her smarts.¡±


    Taking a deep breath, Elaine nodded, then straightened up, and turned back to look at Asper. ¡°I assume you want to know if I know anything that might help you find her.¡±


    ¡°Every bit of information can help,¡± Balston said, nodding.


    She wrote me she was going to make a trip to Runi Blahn, and maybe the Gray Lands nearby,¡± Elaine said. ¡°She had a friend who died or disappear there a few years earlier. She wanted to visit the scene. I take it they had been very close. She was quite upset when whatever happened to him did. There was a whole expedition that was attacked, and I heard they assumed her friend was with them. I knew she was planning to go, but I haven¡¯t heard from her since before Winter Solstice.¡±


    ¡°Does she stay in touch?¡± Balston asked.


    ¡°Somewhat,¡± Elaine said. We didn¡¯t see each other very often, except at school reunions. She has come to visit every now and then, but she¡¯s not fond of country living. But we sent each other messages every month, and exchanged greetings at holidays, birthdays, that sort of things.¡± She rubbed her chin. ¡°She may have kept in better touch with Gan Thistleberry. All three of us were a group at school together. After our studies at the White Isle, Gan went back to teach at Master Gwaher¡¯s school, but she¡¯s living here now on one of my farmsteads. You could ask her if she¡¯s heard from Violetta.¡±


    Asper sighed. ¡°About that. I heard she¡¯s not particularly fond of the DIC.¡±


    ¡°No she¡¯s not. The office in Comrie was rather mean to her when Master Gwaher disappeared.¡± Elaine met Asper¡¯s eyes. ¡°So let me guess. You want some help getting her to talk to you?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not like we think Mistress Greenleaf did anything wrong,¡± Asper said. ¡°We just want to find out what happened to her, and help her get home if she needs to. There are people back at her office that are quite worried.¡±


    Elaine nodded. ¡°They don¡¯t think she¡¯s run off with any trade secrets or anything like that, do they? She¡¯s just missing and they are concerned?¡± She took a cookie from the tray and broke it in half.


    Balston nodded. ¡°Not that they¡¯ve told us, and they would have told us if they wanted her brought in for that. That¡¯s definitely a job for the DIC.¡±


    ¡°It seems like an unusual thing, to have high ranking officers from the DIC coming here to ask background questions, when you could have had the new first year, Umber Madrona come over here. He¡¯s a gentle soul, and my sister thinks fondly of him. I¡¯m sure he could have reported everything back to you easier than you coming out.¡±


    ¡°Uh, yeah,¡± Asper said. ¡°I can¡¯t go into all the details right now, but we need to discover if her disappearance is connected to some other disappearances. A whole group of people who were doing research into no-space have vanished over the last few years.¡±


    ¡°Like Master Gwaher?¡± Elaine said, dipping her cookie into her tea.


    ¡°Exactly. And Mistress Greenleaf was doing work in that area. It may be something bigger than just a vacation mishap.¡±


    ¡°Something bigger? A connection to a whole group of missing persons? Are you investigating the whole group?¡± Elaine¡¯s eyes narrowed, looking at first Balston and then Asper.


    ¡°It might even be bigger than that. We don¡¯t know yet. We thought we¡¯d start with Mistress Greenleaf. If she¡¯s not connected, that is fine ¨C we will find out what happened to her, rescue her if she needs it, help her get home. And if her disappearance is connected...¡±


    ¡°It might lead to other things. Like finding out what really happened to Master Gwaher.¡± Elaine leaned forward in her seat.


    ¡°We have a team investigating. Master Gwaher¡¯s case is being looked at again by some of our best investigators. The way the Comrie team handled it is shameworthy.¡±


    ¡°Gan would like to hear that.¡± Elaine put her teacup down. ¡°I tell you what, gentlemen. Come back this afternoon, and I¡¯ll help you talk with Gan. Be ready to talk about what you¡¯re doing, as much as you can, and if it could help rescue Violetta and find out the truth about Master Gwaher, I¡¯m sure she¡¯ll be more than ready to help you.¡±

 Day 19 of the Warming Month, Continued 2

    Chapter 62


    Zendi¡¯s Rosin ¨C a mineral discovered by Blackshard Zendi of Zorban¡¯s Exploration Consortium shortly after the arrival of the Dragonkin in Sunderland. It occurs in abundance in Sunderland and in the high country of Harani, most sources controlled by Dragonkin Exploration conglomerates. A small quantity comes through the Gray Lands, and there are rumors of it in other mountainous areas. It is a crumbly ore, similar in color to pine tree rosin (thus its name), that when properly refined can create magical fields that can be directed however the refining sets. The first application was to carry vehicles and containers through no space, which led directly to the development of the Dragon Web network. The next major application was in the development of more recent touchstone technology: the permanent imprinting of one task when activated, where no magic operator was needed to trigger the magical effect, only someone to turn it off and on. It is also a key component of devices like jumpstones.


    Key Materials for Modern Life, by Marin Silverthorne, Fireburner¡¯s Press


    Four tired and road stained riders rode through a canyon in the barren reaches of the Gray Lands. Unlike most places they had rode through lately, the land was more than bare red and gray stone and scrub. A small stream fed by a spring somewhere in the hills meandered down the middle of the area, surrounded by willow and other growth, sometimes even a pine tree.


    ¡°It seems so strange to see open water again,¡± Violetta said, watching a butterfly flit among the growth. A fish broke water and spit at it, but missed.


    Ashira, riding slightly ahead of them, guffawed at the comment.


    ¡°I know you¡¯ve been riding through some rough country, woman, but don¡¯t think all of the lands here are totally barren and dry. After all, people like me, we don¡¯t live off of the air,¡± Xhandi said.


    ¡°Believe me, I understand that. I¡¯ve seen you eat,¡± Violetta said, looking up and smiling.


    Ruath laughed.


    Xhandis shot him a look, but chose not to react. ¡°This stream is the Wastin. It¡¯s a tributary to the River Xandith that heads up near Aufzee¡¯s Freehold.¡±


    ¡°The Xandith turns into a pretty big river by the time it reaches the coast,¡± Ashira said, nodding. ¡°Hard to believe if you¡¯ve only seen it up here. But from the coast, boats head a good bit inland. And there are people all the way down it, lots of farms and a few towns.¡±


    ¡°Not that far inland,¡± Ruath said. ¡°It gets rocky and hard to use really quick.¡±


    ¡°Far enough,¡± Ashira said. ¡°Ask the people of Emyri about why they have a market town. Merchant caravans appreciate not having to take their goods all the way to Resharni with their taxes.¡±


    ¡°Nobody likes paying those,¡± Xhindi said. ¡°But Emyri worked out a smart deal with the Resharni captains. I¡¯d rather deal with them than those pirates on the coast, myself.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know how the outlanders pay it,¡± Ruath said. Then he scratched his head and turned to Ashiri. ¡°Isn¡¯t that where you grew up? At Emyri?¡±


    She nodded.


    ¡°Not many Peri where there are so many outlanders,¡± he said.


    ¡°There are always some wherever the Mother of Smoke and Fire watches,¡± she replied, but chose not to elaborate.


    They fell silent for a stretch. The only sounds were their animals and the jingling of their gear, and the sound of the stream.


    ¡°I expected more people on the road this close to the Freehold,¡± Xhindi said. ¡°Is something up?¡±


    ¡°Maybe it¡¯s a gift of the Mother of the Peri,¡± Violetta said.


    ¡°Or something else.¡± Ashira suddenly looked up, and started to ready her bow. ¡°Too far,¡± she muttered, but she didn¡¯t relax her bow hand.


    ¡°What is is?¡± Xhindi asked.


    ¡°Look up there,¡± she said, pointing to the sky.


    The group looked, and spotted a single bird, gyrating high above over the road and places nearby.


    ¡°Another spy raven?¡± Violetta asked.


    ¡°I believe so,¡± Ashira said. ¡°Someone is monitoring the road. This is not the first one I¡¯ve spotted. I saw one two days ago, but one of the Mother¡¯s Peris brought it down. This one¡­¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s possible, so close to the Freehold that it¡¯s one of the Aufzee clan¡¯s birds. They don¡¯t like surprises,¡± Xhindi said.


    ¡°Or things they think that can cut into their profits,¡± Ruath said. He spit.


    ¡°Keep your hood up, Violetta. Dressed like that, you look like one of us. Just in case,¡± Xhindi said.


    ¡°Do you think they know what I¡¯m carrying?¡± she asked.


    He shrugged. ¡°You¡¯ve been gone a long time. Was there anybody back where you lived or work who might have reported you missing?¡±


    ¡°My work might have,¡± she said, biting her lip. ¡°Lazin, my supervisor was not happy to give me the time off. And I¡¯ve been gone so long...¡±


    ¡°Whoever is searching probably doesn¡¯t know anything for sure. But they might want to find you to see what you know,¡± Ashira said. Her eyes never stopped scanning the sky. ¡°And maybe, even it might just be your own people trying to take you home.¡±


    ¡°Hard to believe that would have happened yet.¡± Violetta shook her head. Dragonkin don¡¯t like to go where they can¡¯t use no space and their magic toys work poorly or not at all. But they may have called in the DIC, who sometimes are a bit braver that way.¡±


    As they watched, a brilliant streak of golden light cut across the heavens, and surrounded the spying bird. Suddenly it fell out of the sky.


    ¡°It seems we¡¯re still under the Mother¡¯s auspices,¡± Xhindi said.


    ¡°Well, the sooner we get to the Freehold, the sooner we can get somewhere else,¡± Ruath said. He nudged his mount on, and the others followed.


    >>>>>>>>>>>>>> <<<<<<<<<<<<<<


    At Pixie Hollow, Cullin examined the rest of the boundary wall between where the railing was broken and the King¡¯s Highway. There were no other breaks in the boundary wall or railing.


    ¡°It¡¯s odd,¡± Leila said. ¡°Far enough from the road to make the break look like something besides casual malice. Could someone be trying to cause problems between you and Mistress Gan or Lady Elaine?¡±


    Cullin shrugged. ¡°The ways of people who do this type of thing are a mystery to me. Was it casual, or do they have a reason? I wouldn¡¯t understand either. And since they didn¡¯t cross into my forest, I have no authority over them.¡± He tugged on his hat. ¡°We need to check with Mistress Gan. Let¡¯s hope they didn¡¯t leave any other surprises.¡±If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    ¡°You need to talk to people more,¡± a voice cawed, and Morvran the raven landed on the railing near them. He tilted his head to get a better look at Cullin. ¡°You¡¯d find out that people do all sorts of stupid things for all sorts of reasons.¡±


    ¡°You mean like ravens do?¡± Leila asked.


    ¡°Unfair,¡± Morvran replied. ¡°We¡¯re just curious or scared, most of the time. That¡¯s all the reasons we usually use.¡±


    ¡°Where¡¯d you come from?¡± Cullin asked.


    ¡°Maunzi the Bush Grandmother sent me. She¡¯s looking for you, Leila.¡±


    Leila sighed. ¡°I bet she wants to nag me to invite Mistress Gan to one of her tea parties. She¡¯s been after me for days now. I just know if we do it, Auld Annie will drop by and then there will be a fight.¡±


    ¡°Make an interesting party,¡± Morvran said.


    ¡°Too interesting,¡± Leila said. ¡°And you won¡¯t have to clean up after they get into one of their magic tussles. And if Uldra shows up¡­¡±


    ¡°I thought she was down by the river staying with Urisk,¡± Morvran said. ¡°Maybe you should invite the Birch Woman. She can calm things down sometimes.¡±


    Leila thought on that for a moment. ¡°Maybe¡­.Su and Du like her a lot. Lu I¡¯m not so sure about. If we can keep anybody from playing music, that might work. We wouldn¡¯t want a tea party to turn into a dance.¡±


    Morvran cawed. ¡°Thinking about Maunzi dancing¡­¡± He ruffled his wings at the thought. He turned. ¡°Hey, I think Cullin¡¯s getting away.¡±


    Leila looked up and saw that Cullin was indeed leaving them, walking along the fence that separated the Pixie Hollow farmland from the King¡¯s highway. She hurried up to catch up with him while Morvran took to the air.


    Eventually they turned up the path from the road to Gan¡¯s house. It didn¡¯t take long before the first pixie met them.


    ¡°Here comes the first pest,¡± Morvran said. He landed on the ground and began scratching.


    ¡°Hush, Morvran. This is their home and has been since anybody can remember. It¡¯s not called Pixie Hollow for no reason,¡± Leila said.


    The bird cawed. ¡°They¡¯re still pests.¡±


    ¡°Enough of you, bird,¡± Cullin said. He stopped walking and waited for the little man to reach them.


    ¡°I think it¡¯s Seamus,¡± Leila said.


    ¡°You know them that well?¡± Cullin asked.


    She nodded. ¡°Some of them, especially the women, come and visit me regularly, and tell me all their love problems. Seamus has caused more than one visit.¡± Leila sighed. ¡°Besides, I¡¯ve been coming over here every few days. It¡¯s so nice to have a friend I can talk about books with.¡±


    Cullin guffawed. ¡°Books. If you want to call them that¡­ you two and your tastes in reading.¡±


    ¡°They make me happy. They make Gan happy. Don¡¯t mock things like that,¡± Leila said, giving the Tree Shepherd a hard look. ¡°What makes you happy?¡±


    ¡°Not worrying about all of you. Watching the trees grow. Seeing the sprites dance.¡±


    ¡°Watching the trees grow takes too long for most of us,¡± Morvran said. He flew up and landed on Cullin¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Anything else?¡±


    Cullin was about to answer when Seamus reached them.


    ¡°Can I have one of your feathers?¡± he asked the raven.


    Morvran eyed the little pixie. ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°But it would look so good in my cap!¡±


    ¡°Forget it, Seamus. Where¡¯s Mistress Gan?¡±


    ¡°In the front, doing magic with water and fire and rope.¡± The little pixie flew by, and brushed the side of Morvran¡¯s wing. The raven pecked at him, but Seamus dodged him.


    ¡°Laundry day?¡± Leila asked.


    ¡°Everything gets boiled, rinsed, and hung up to dry. I¡¯m afraid she¡¯s going to dunk me in the water.¡±


    ¡°It probably wouldn¡¯t hurt you,¡± Morvran said. ¡°When¡¯s the last time you changed your pants?¡±


    ¡°Go bicker elsewhere,¡± Cullin said, and knocked the bird off his shoulder. He continued towards the house.


    ¡°There¡¯s a time, Morvran,¡± Leila said, and followed him.


    ¡°You sure I can¡¯t have one?¡± the Pixie asked. ¡°One little feather?¡±


    Morvran cawed, and took to the air.


    As Seamus had said, Gan was doing laundry, her big cauldron set up on the fire. As they drew near, she was hanging up a sheet to dry on a long clothes line strung between two trees.


    ¡°We¡¯ve got company,¡± Moxie said, sitting on the clothes line.


    ¡°Leila and the Tree Shepherd,¡± Dahlia said, flittering near Gan¡¯s shoulder.


    ¡°Eh?¡± Gan said, turning around. ¡°I¡¯m beginning to think I cannot do the wash without someone showing up.¡± She wiped her hands dry on a corner of her apron, but a big smile crossed her face as she saw Cullin walking up. ¡°Ah, Tree Shepherd! Did you see whatever it was that tore through the lower field this morning? I was wondering if that was going to bring you out to see me today.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± he said. ¡°Maybe we should have a talk.¡±


    >>>>>>>>>>>>>> <<<<<<<<<<<<<<


    In the Gray Lands, Violetta and her party came to a crossroads not long after the stream they had been following veered to the south. The roadbed opened up into a wide area, and a pylon carved from some gray stone marked the center of it, with writing facing each direction. To the north the road continued, curving around a large rockface. Another road continued to the west, and to the south was a third road. The road to the south seemed the least traveled of the three, more rutted and with weeds trying to grow through the trail. They stopped for a moment and Xhindi dismounted near the pylon.


    ¡°What is this place?¡± Violetta said, joining him on the ground. Her gryphon called softly as she stepped toward the Jinn, and she patted the beast¡¯s neck to calm it. Looking up at the pylon, she noticed that the faces were carved with placenames.


    ¡°The great crossroads, the locals call it.¡± Xhindi pointed south. ¡°That road heads south and follows the river. Eventually it ends up at Resharni on the coast. The way west heads to Artha, for those who don¡¯t want to go through the Lilu and bandits that hide out on the route to Runi Blahn. It¡¯s a long road, and in some ways, trickier, but it has good water and farming villages along the route. Too many people for many desert monsters, but the bandits like it well enough. And Artha¡¯s no bigger than Runi Blahn, but you can get to the rest of the world from there just as easily. The road north takes us to the Freehold, and beyond that, the road into the mountains where the Daoine like to visit ¨C far enough from the Holy Mountain that all their magics work and even the Dragon Web functions.


    ¡°Our choice once we¡¯re done with Aufzee¡¯s Freehold, is to head south to the coast, or head west to Artha, go back to Runi Blahn, or go north.¡± Xhindi said. ¡°That¡¯s about it.¡±


    ¡°Three roads?¡± Violetta asked. She looked at the roads. They were as empty as the road they had been traveling. ¡°With all the traffic we¡¯ve been seeing, it¡¯s hard to believe there¡¯s a need for even one.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s early in the year for things to be coming from the South,¡± Ashira said. ¡°The sea routes are just calming down enough for goods to arrive, and the first caravan masters are probably just starting to drift into Emyri. And Aufzee¡¯s Freehold is just a minor point on their route.¡±


    ¡°Black opals, star gems and Zendi¡¯s Rosin do get some attention. Otherwise, nobody¡¯d come to this dusthole,¡± Ruath said, shifting in his saddle. ¡°Their goods from down south sell well enough, but its the gems that bring any traders. They pop in and leave, as quickly as possible. I¡¯d like to get in there and gone, myself ¨C whichever route we take.¡±


    Violetta was surprised by Ruath¡¯s list of goods. ¡°Zendi¡¯s Rosin? They mine it here? The stuff they use to make touch stones? The minerals that make the Dragon Web carriages work?¡± Violetta said. ¡°I¡¯ve always heard the Dragonkin Exploration faction had locked up all the places where they could mine it. That¡¯s what they told me at B & F. I never had any reason to doubt them.¡±


    ¡°They wish they had it all, greedy things. Veins of it run all over the Grey Lands,¡± Xhindi said, remounting. ¡°And when they burn through all the ore in Sunderland and Harani, well, they¡¯ll have to deal with us.¡±


    ¡°That time has not yet come, Xhandi of the Southern Firesouls.¡± a woman¡¯s voice called out.


    Stepping out from the shadows around a recess in the rock that walled the right side of the road, a woman dressed in the gauzy veils of the Called rode forward, followed by two men in black and white armor. From the way they carried their weapons and rode, it was obvious they were the woman¡¯s honor guard. She lifted a hand and they stopped as she rode forward.


    ¡°Shrine Mother,¡± Xhindi said, bowing his head as she joined them. ¡°Seeing you here is a surprise. It is seldom you leave the shrine grounds.¡±


    ¡°I was sent,¡± she replied and drew a little closer to the band of four. ¡°I know you, Ashira of Emyri, and your trials, and you, Ruath the wanderer and your angers. Be blessed.¡± She rode up closer to Violetta and lifted her veil, and looked up at her questioningly, with golden eyes that seemed to probe into the Daoine woman. ¡°You...I do not know you, or why you are chosen. The Mother showed you to me when I was sitting in the shrine and sent me here to find you.¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡± Violetta began, but the Shrine Mother turned back to Xhandi.


    ¡°Much has happened since you were here last, son of the Firesouls. Zethan the Aufzee has passed back to the Mother of Smoke and Fire.¡±


    ¡°Has he?¡± Xhindi said. ¡°That is sad news. He held the Freehold together with a firm hand needed in such a wild place with the type of people who gather here.¡±


    ¡°And his son¡¯s hand is not as strong, at least not yet. Strange people have come here, spreading rumors, buying up all the rosin available, and complaining of the rules that the Mother had put on the Aufzees when they founded this place.¡±


    ¡°Let me guess,¡± Xhindi said. ¡°They want to divert water to wash out more rosin, and let it drain back into the river. And bring in slave miners. People have been calling for that as long as I can remember.¡±


    ¡°Not that they pay miners much above starvation wages,¡± Ruath muttered. He rubbed an old scar on the back of his hand, as if this discussion brought up old memories.


    ¡°That is truth,¡± the Shrine Mother said. ¡°But now, there are more calling for it, and a weak dam for holding it back. Come, I will get you all to the Shrine safely. After that, we will see what the Mother of Smoke and Fire has planned.¡± She turned her gryphon and headed back to her honor guard.


    ¡°Sounds like trouble ahead, Xhandi,¡± Ashira said.


    ¡°This whole trip has been nothing but trouble. What¡¯s new?¡± he replied. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± He began riding.


    Ashira nodded and followed, with Violetta falling next in line.


    ¡°I hate this place,¡± Ruath said, and reluctantly took up the rear.

 Day 19 of the Warming Month, Continued 3

    Chapter 63


    We like to pretend that all is sweetness and light, that evil is merely misunderstanding or lack of knowledge, and wrongdoing is based on desperation and lack, but in reality, life is far more complicated than that. The Sundering War happened because the Elder Ones forgot that sometimes darkness twists in the hearts of those who were knowledgeable, and knew exactly what they were doing, and certainly were not in need or lacking anything.


    You cannot necessarily stop darkness from growing in the hearts of people, greed from making others choose the wrong, vengeance and anger. What you can do is be aware that these run through the world and keep yourself safe from others¡¯ darkness. This class is geared towards teaching you the techniques to gain safety, both magical and other practical techniques. The final examination will be to put you in a position where you have to use these techniques to protect yourself from a variety of active threats. Passing this will guarantee you can use your Goosequill for maximum practical benefit.


    Self Protection: Introductory Class Lecture, Glenna Reedholder, Instructor, Goosequill Motherhouse


    Violetta Greenleaf followed behind the Shrine Mother, riding next to Xhindi. ¡°I take it you know this woman well. She¡¯s not another one of your relatives, is she?¡±


    Xhindi shook his head. ¡°No, not directly, anyway. She merely had mercy on a young and confused Jinn man when he was having a bad time in life and helped him get his feet on the ground, just one of the Called who had been assigned to work at the shrine.¡± He rubbed the back of his neck. ¡°One day, I¡¯ll have to tell you the tales of my misspent youth, especially the days after my father sent me out of the house and my sister received the calling. Growing up was hard.¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t it always?¡± she said. ¡°But yes, I¡¯d be interested in hearing more about them if we have time.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s not the only one with stories to tell,¡± Ruath said. ¡°Compared to me, he had it easy.¡±


    ¡°We all have painful life paths,¡± Ashira said. ¡°And even now, Mistress Violetta is going through her own story. I suggest we pay attention to the here and now instead of dwelling upon our past. Important things are riding on it.¡±


    Ruath muttered something, but dropped back a bit and took the rear position.


    They rounded the curve in the road and ran into a small group of men heading out of the Freehold.


    Xhindi rode up to the Shrine Mother. ¡°So Tasmin is still around?¡± he asked. ¡°I thought Zethan had sent him packing.¡±


    ¡°He did,¡± the Shrine Mother said. ¡°But he was one of the first back when Zethan passed, almost before the funeral was over. Since then, he has become young Venthies¡¯ close confidant.¡± Her tone let Xhindi know she did not approve.


    Tasmin, spotting the Shrine Mother and the others, left his two men leading a small string of laden oxen, and rode his gryphon over. He gave the Shrine Mother an oily smile.


    ¡°How rare to see you outside of the Freehold, Shrine Mother,¡± he said.


    She nodded at him. ¡°Almost as rare seeing you visit the Shrine, Tasmin of the West Stonehammers.¡±


    He shrugged. ¡°My new duties keep me busy, Lady. Ventheis has great plans. And business must be seen to.¡±


    ¡°I see,¡± the Shrine Mother said. ¡°Off to Emyri, perhaps? The caravans should be arriving about the time you could get there.¡±


    He gave her a rather smarmy smile. ¡°Alas, you will not be missing me that long, Shrine Mother. I merely go to the crossroads, where we will be meeting up with our partners. I do not think Lord Ventheis would like it if I was gone for that long.¡± Turning his head to the others following the Shrine Mother, he looked them each over, and focused on Xhandi. ¡°It¡¯s been some time, Xhandi. It¡¯s been a while since we were both in Aufzee¡¯s Freehold at the same time.¡±


    Xhindi tipped his head in reply. ¡°It has indeed, although that¡¯s not by design, Tasmin. I come and go as the trade brings me.¡±


    ¡°When you¡¯re not letting that sister of yours getting you to chase ghosts across the whole of the Gray Lands,¡± Tasmin said.


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say doing the work of the Called is chasing ghosts,¡± Xhindi said quietly. ¡°I merely do my own calling.¡±


    ¡°Bah,¡± Tasmin said, spitting. ¡°I learned a long time ago that there are other ways for Jinn l to live, with no smoke and fire involved. Profitable ways. Come and see me if you get tired of it. I can always use a man as hardheaded as you to take care of business.¡±


    Ashira began to say something, but Xhindi lifted a hand to quiet her. ¡°If that day comes, I will remember your offer,¡± he said.


    Tasmin nodded. ¡°And take care. I suspect you won¡¯t find the Freehold the same place this trip as the last time you breezed through. No private deals. If you have any stones to trade, be sure to take them to the Assay Office. Lord Ventheis has made that very clear. Wouldn¡¯t want you to lose that hard head of yours for a few silvers. Plenty of men in the Freehold would be happy to set something up, and turn you in for a cut of the profits. Not the place you remember.¡±This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    He tugged on the reins of his mount and rode off to join his men.


    The knot of people gathered around the Shrine Mother watched as he left.


    ¡°For some reason,¡± Violetta said softly, ¡°I suddenly feel dirty.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not the only one,¡± Ashira said. She soothed her mount, who was also feeling unhappy at events and pawing at the ground.


    ¡°He has that effect on people touched by the Mother¡¯s grace,¡± the Shrine Mother said. ¡°Let¡¯s ride on to the shrine. There, we can wash off his stench.¡±


    >>>>>>>>>>>>>> <<<<<<<<<<<<<<


    In Pixie Hollow, Gan, her washing day interrupted once again, gave into the inevitable, and walked inside her house, beckoning the others to follow.


    ¡°So you need to talk to me about the excitement in the field this morning, Tree Shepherd?¡± she said as she stirred up the fire and put the tea kettle on to heat. ¡°I take it something about what happens has you bothered.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Cullin answered simply as he stood in the doorway.


    ¡°Well then, come in and have a seat. It¡¯s hard to have a discussion just standing there,¡± Gan said, adding a little more wood to burn under the kettle. ¡°And you¡¯re blocking Leila from coming in.¡±


    Almost sheepishly, as if he was just realizing what he was doing, Cullin gave Gan a nod, and walked in, heading towards the table. Three pixies lifted up as he pulled out a chair and headed for the rafters.


    Rufus pulled off his cap as he landed and glared at Cullin. ¡°What¡¯s he doing here? He almost stepped on me when the monster ran across the field this morning, and all I was doing was minding my own own business.¡±


    ¡°More like teasing the goats,¡± Cowslip said. ¡°Once again. One day, one of the nannies is going to eat you.¡±


    Cullin looked up and shrugged. ¡°Goat threw you. Don¡¯t blame me.¡±


    Gan, by now familiar with her pixie houseguests, ignored the banter.


    Leila, as usual, was more sensitive to the emotions in the room and decided to change the subject as she walked in. ¡°It always smell so good in here,¡± she said. ¡°I don¡¯t know how you do it.¡±


    Gan stood up in front of the fireplace, and lifted the lid off of a big pot, giving the contents a stir. ¡°You do manage to get here before lunch a lot of the time. It¡¯s always going to smell tasty that time of the day.¡±


    ¡°I guess that¡¯s true. But you¡¯re such a good cook. I can¡¯t help myself.¡± She sighed. ¡°It¡¯s so much better than the food the woodwives cook for me.¡±


    Bu flew in through the open window. ¡°Is it lunch yet? That smells so good.¡±


    ¡°No, you silly thing,¡± Moxie said. She flittered off of Gan¡¯s shoulder and flew to the little man. ¡°Mistress Gan hasn¡¯t even put the bread on to bake yet.¡± She pointed to where a bread pan rested on the counter, covered with a cloth.


    ¡°Moxie¡¯s right,¡± Gan said, getting up and walking to the cabinet to take out her tea things. ¡°It¡¯ll be a while yet. Cullin and I am going to have a talk about this morning. You¡¯ll probably get totally bored, Bu. Why don¡¯t you find where Rob is working?¡±


    The little man looked quite disappointed, sighed, but nodded, and flitted out of the window, just as Morvran landed on the window sill.


    ¡°Does she know?¡± he asked, pecking on the frame work.


    Dahlia drifted over to him. ¡°Stop that!¡± she said, crossing her arms and glaring at him.


    ¡°Yes, please do,¡± Gan said, spooning tea into her pot. ¡°Do I know what?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what I came,¡± Cullin said.


    Gan waited for a moment for Cullin to continue, but he didn¡¯t. She looked at him. He seemed to be struggling to find the words he wanted.


    ¡°It has to do with what happened in the field?¡± she said.


    ¡°More than that,¡± Leila said. ¡°Salvange the Woodwose who lives in Cullin¡¯s forest, has a boar bigger than a horse, as a pet. Somehow or other, he got through the barrier and fence and ran into your field this morning. Salvange blames your goats for teasing White Tusk, but he shouldn¡¯t have been able to cross the barrier. Only Cullin can give beings in his forest permission to cross the barrier.¡±


    ¡°How do you get across it so often?¡± Rosebud asked.


    ¡°The same way you do: we have permanent permissions,¡± Leila said. ¡°A lot of those who have Aos Si shape do. But few who don¡¯t do. And White Tusk is very much on the do not list.¡±


    Seamus flew over to where Morvran was still sitting on the window sill.


    ¡°The answer is still no, feather monger,¡± the raven said.


    ¡°No, I wasn¡¯t going to ask that. You don¡¯t have a Aos Si form. How do you get to go back and forth?¡±


    ¡°A moment of weakness,¡± Cullin said.


    ¡°Is that what you call it?¡± the raven croaked. ¡°I always thought it was because you were hoping I¡¯d fly away for good.¡±


    Leila tried hard not to giggle at that one, and covered her mouth. Gan smiled as well, but grabbed the tea kettle off of the fire to finish making her tea.


    ¡°I never told you that,¡± Cullin said. ¡°You¡¯re the one who told me you were bored and wanted to see what was beyond the barrier.¡±


    ¡°That still doesn¡¯t explain why you need to talk to me,¡± Gan said. She poured the steaming water over the tea, much to Moxie¡¯s satisfaction, then placed cups in front of Cullin and Leila, and at her seat.


    ¡°The barrier has stood with no failures since Lady Sulis brought me to the forest as caretaker, and I don¡¯t know how long it was up beforehand,¡± Cullin began as Gan poured him a cup of tea. He stared deeply into the liquid.


    ¡°Someone came onto your farmland and did something that relaxed the barrier in one small area,¡± Leila said.


    ¡°That sounds like a skilled and powerful bit of magic,¡± Gan said. ¡°But why?¡±


    ¡°It smelled sour, the air there, like someone poured vinegar on soot, but there was nothing except some broken fencing to see,¡± Cullin said. ¡°I checked other parts of the barrier and it seemed fine.¡±


    ¡°Hmm,¡± said Gan as she poured Leila¡¯s and then her own tea. ¡°That explains, a tiny bit, the how, but nothing about the why.¡±


    ¡°White Tusk in a rage is very destructive,¡± Cullin said. ¡°If he had crossed the field and reached your house¡­¡±


    ¡°We wouldn¡¯t be here drinking tea,¡± Leila said, lifting up her cup. ¡°But was that their goal?¡±


    ¡°Maybe they¡¯re Pixie rustlers,¡± Moxie said.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know why anybody would want to do that to me,¡± Gan said. ¡°although they would have found it harder to tear up my home than they think. Don¡¯t worry, Moxie. No Pixie rustlers can get through my protections.¡± She turned back to Cullin. ¡°You¡¯re not the only one who has barriers. Nobody who wishes me or those with me ill can enter the area near the house or barn.¡±


    Cullin visibly relaxed at that. ¡°Lady Sulis herself asked me to keep an eye on you,¡± Cullin blurted out. ¡°She didn¡¯t tell me how good you were at taking care of yourself.¡±


    This time, Gan reached out and patted the Tree Shepherd on the hand. He met her eyes, rather surprised. ¡°People have a tendency to underestimate me. But I was well trained by the Goosequills and that includes being prepared for all sorts of things. Still,¡± she said, finally taking her chair, ¡°I may have some unfriends, but as far as I know, I don¡¯t have any real enemies.¡±


    ¡°Maybe it¡¯s not you directly that they¡¯re aiming at,¡± Leila suggested. ¡°Maybe they¡¯re trying to build a wedge between you and the people of the forest? Maybe between Lady Elaine and Cullin?¡± She rubbed her chin. ¡°Or maybe they just wanted to try out their new magic?¡±


    ¡°Some people are just meanies,¡± Rosebud said, nodding.


    ¡°Well,¡± Gan said. ¡°Maybe we should go over to where the barrier failed. I might have a trick or two that¡¯ll give us a clue about who was there.¡±

 Day 19 of the Warming Month, Continued 4

    Chapter 64


    Obstacles along the way -


    Are they stumbling blocks?


    Are they stepping stones?


    Step up! If you do not fall,


    Climb up!


    Aphorisms for a Quiet Life by Ruddtha Redstone, Chairman of Toolets Manufacturing, Sunderland


    At Pixie Hollow, Gan turned the key to her locked cabinet, where she kept the more potent potions, elixirs, powders and essences and dried herbs she used in magic, medicine and housekeeping.


    ¡°It smells weird,¡± Moxie said from her perch on Gan¡¯s shoulder, wrinkling her nose. ¡°Kind of like Arne¡¯s britches when he goes running through the mud pots near Red Rock.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s a reason they call them the Stinking Springs,¡± Dahlia said, nodding. She flew up to one of the rafters to get away from the smell. ¡°At least it doesn¡¯t smell like Ixip.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s no Ixip in my house,¡± Gan said nodding, ¡°I suspect you¡¯re smelling the valerian root.¡±


    ¡°Why do you keep it locked up?¡± Rosebud asked, landing on Gan¡¯s cap.


    ¡°To keep little nappers like you from thinking my medicine cabinet is a good place to take a rest,¡± Gan replied. She began moving a few things out, putting them on the counter. ¡°There¡¯s a lot here not safe for Pixies or those who don¡¯t know what they¡¯re doing to handle. Useful though, when you really need them.¡± She shoved several bottles and vials around. ¡°Now where did I put that?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s quite a collection of supplies you have there,¡± Leila said, looking over Gan¡¯s shoulder. Her eyes grew a little wide at the assortment. ¡°Solution of Breeland. Oil of Marginot. Thieves Vinegar. And so many herbal powders. You could heal an army.¡± She almost reached out to touch something, but pulled her hand back, realizing what she was doing. ¡°Master Myron at Goblin Market, the man who runs the herb store, would be impressed.¡±


    ¡°He has a lovely shop,¡± Gan replied. ¡°My collection is small potatoes compared to what he has on hand. Just consider it the collection of a woman who had to take care of far too many children with runny noses and skinned knees.¡± She pushed aside a large jar labeled ¡®Tabrun¡¯s Simple¡¯. ¡°Aha! There you are,¡± she said, grabbing a glass bottle filled with an iridescent powder and sat it on the counter. ¡°I think that will do it.¡± Walking across the room to a set of pegs that held her cloak and shawl, she grabbed her bag, then loaded it with the containers she pulled out.


    Cullin watched all this activity from where he had been sitting, not commenting. Without word, he stood up and walked to the door and stepped out of the house. Gan turned to Leila, who in turn was watching as the door closed. The nymph sighed.


    ¡°Is there something wrong?¡± Gan asked, putting the last vial away in her bag before relocking her cabinet.


    ¡°It¡¯s been a hard day for him. The integrity of his forest was threatened. A person he was asked to care for was threatened, either inadvertently or intentionally. He finds out the person he was supposed to care for isn¡¯t nearly as vulnerable as he was worried about. He doesn¡¯t take to being threatened well.¡±


    ¡°Who does?¡± Gan asked, taking off her apron, which she hung up on another peg.


    ¡°I don¡¯t,¡± Arne said, from a perch up on the rafters.


    ¡°So why are you always threatening me?¡± Rufus asked, landing next to him.


    ¡°Because you ask stupid questions,¡± Arne said, giving him a shove.


    Dahlia and Gillie, noticing what was going on, pushed Arne off his perch. ¡°Stop that, you big bully! Gillie yelled.


    ¡°Stop threatening me!¡± Arne said


    ¡°Nobody threatened you,¡± Moxie said, flitting next to him. She grabbed him by the ear. ¡°I can change that if you want.¡±


    ¡°No, no, no,¡± Arne said, waving his hands in front of him. ¡°Let go! You know I hate to have my ears touched!¡±


    ¡°Stop pushing Rufus around, then.¡± Moxie let go.


    The two larger women mostly ignored the little people. ¡°It¡¯s a bit hard for Cullin to cope with change. He usually needs some time to process. He will, but he has to digest it. Being around too many people sometimes makes it hard,¡± Leila said. ¡°And finding out not only that someone wanted to breach his forest¡¯s boundaries, and did it on a small scale without him realizing it until it was done is a new thing for him. The why and the how are going to gnaw at him until he¡¯s figured it out.¡±


    ¡°Well, perhaps we¡¯ll be able to help a bit with the how when we get to the site,¡± Gan said. She put on her cloak. ¡°Let¡¯s go round up Rob and go look at where it all happened.¡±


    Picking up her bag, she headed out of the door.


    >>>>>>>>>>>>>> <<<<<<<<<<<<<<


    In the Gray Lands, Violetta, Xhandi and the others followed behind the Shrine Mother and her honor guard. As they neared the Freehold¡¯s gate, they began to pass the remains of old camps. In places, old tents had been abandoned, and ragged fabric from them flapped in the wind.


    ¡°This is different,¡± Xhindi said, catching up to the Shrine Mother. ¡°This area used to be filled with people ready to go in or who were selling on their own.¡±


    The Shrine Mother sighed. ¡°Things have changed since the old Aufzee passed. The young master doesn¡¯t allow any trading outside of the gates any more. The Freehold isn¡¯t so free ¨C it takes a share out of every transaction, either at the assayer¡¯s office or at one of the trading houses. The caravan areas have been moved behind the gates so they can monitor what goes on. Anybody camping outside is under threat of being forcibly marched to the crossroads or worse.¡±


    ¡°Like sent to the mines worse?¡± Ruath asked. There was a bitter undertone to his voice.


    ¡°If the administrators fine them and they cannot pay,¡± the Shrine Mother said. ¡°We offer them sanctuary when we can.¡±


    ¡°Some things never change,¡± he muttered, and fell silent.


    They rounded a bend in the road, and a massive stone structure straddled the road. The rubbish from the abandoned encampments had been cleared away, leaving the area in front of the gates clean and bare. Two large gates stood in the center of the structure. Three travelers leading heavily burdened Eghtan oxen with their shaggy bodies and massive horns were being questioned by two guards as they neared.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    ¡°Check in at the entry office,¡± he said to the travelers. ¡°It¡¯s the first building you see past the gate. They¡¯ll examine your freight and give you the papers you need to buy and sell.¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t this way the last time I was here,¡± an older Jinn with long beard streaked with gray, said. He shook his turbinned head. ¡°Is this the way the Freehold treats the people who feed them?¡±


    The guard crossed his arms and sneered. ¡°It¡¯s the way the young Aufzee treats the people that took advantage of the Freehold and his father¡¯s judgment for years. Trade here or go elsewhere, old man. This is the way we¡¯re doing it now.¡±


    ¡°Father.¡± A young man standing next to the older traveler tugged on the older man¡¯s sleeve. ¡°Let¡¯s just go. We¡¯re already here. If we don¡¯t like how it works, we can go elsewhere later.¡±


    The older man nodded. ¡°You¡¯re right son. There¡¯s always someone who wants bread and fruit.¡± He gave the guard a solemn look. ¡°If the dealing is fair, we¡¯ll be back. Only right to give them a chance.¡±


    The guard nodded and made a hand sign, and the gate opened up part way, enough to let them through. Slowly, the men guided their burdened beasts in.


    The Shrine Mother drew near to the gates, followed by her honor guard. The guard who had been talking to the traders, leaned back against the wall, half a smirk on his face, while his partner made a gesture of respect.


    ¡°Back already, Shrine Mother?¡± the smirking guard asked. ¡°I thought you¡¯d be halfway to the Holy Mountain by now.¡±


    Her honor guard tightened their hands on their spears, but at a gesture from her, they stood down.


    ¡°Revitz,¡± the other guard said, elbowing his partner. ¡°Respect. Don¡¯t be an ass.¡± He turned to the Shrine Mother. ¡°Forgive my partner, Lady. The newcomers have put some odd ideas in his head lately.¡±


    Revitz gave his partner an angry look. ¡°Speak for yourself, Zuuf. I¡¯d say they opened my eyes. Venthies has opened his. You should open your own. There¡¯s more for the Jinn than the Holy Mountain.¡±


    ¡°Believe as you will, Revitz son of the South Mountain people,¡± the Shrine Mother said. ¡°Nonetheless, I and my guests are on the way to the shrine, and the pacts between the Aufzee and the Shrine still hold.¡±


    ¡°They do indeed, for the time being.¡± His tone was dark.


    Zuuf signalled and the gate began to rise.


    ¡°Ashira, Xhindi, welcome,¡± Zuuf said. ¡°You¡¯ve been missed.


    ¡°Stay close to the Shrine Mother, Ruath. The young master doesn¡¯t have the temperament the way the old Aufzee did.¡± Revitz spit. ¡°There are people still hoping for a piece of you.¡±


    ¡°Enough,¡± the Shrine Mother said. ¡°They are all under my protection. You would do well to spread that piece of news, more than Ruath¡¯s return.¡±


    At her signal, all of them rode through the gates.


    >>>>>>>>>>>>>> <<<<<<<<<<<<<<


    For a change, the break room at the Dragon Web station was mostly empty. Two young men were finishing their meal near the entrance, and the only other person there was Umber Madrona at the table at the back of the room. He had a meal the Lunch House spread before him, a bowl of stew, a bread roll, a slice of cheese. He ate it slowly, looking up at the entry door frequently.


    The two men finished their meal and headed for the front door, when it burst open and Lana Redstone pushed through, obviously agitated, her ruff standing at high alert, filled with the colors of irritation. The young men gave her plenty of room to pass as they headed out. Spotting Umber, she slightly calmed down and hurried to his table.


    ¡°Why did everybody pick today to send off their packages, all absolutely must arrive by tomorrow morning?¡± she asked, plopping her lunch bag on the table in the break room.


    ¡°Rough morning?¡± Umber looked up at her, dropping his spoon back into its bowl. ¡°Want to tell me about it?¡±


    ¡°Irritating.¡± Lana sat down, and took a covered dish out of her bag. She continued frowning as she pulled the lid off, revealing a salad. ¡°The mayor¡¯s wife came in with a set of packages to be sent everywhere between Meridae to the White Isle. Even to Harani and Brissingham in the west. Each of them had to get to their destination tomorrow, by express shipment if necessary. Twenty two boxes of all different sizes and shapes. And she was rude about it, too. ¡®Be sure they get on this afternoon¡¯s carriage,¡¯ she said. ¡®All my relatives are expecting their Crossing Day gifts, and I¡¯ll never hear the end of it.¡± Lana took a small bottle out of the bag and poured it over her salad.


    ¡°Of course, she didn¡¯t care that a whole line of other people were behind her, needing to do the same thing. She hadn¡¯t filled out a single address label in advance. And she expected to use the mayor¡¯s discount. It didn¡¯t matter a bit to her if she made people like Mistress Cabris was there with candy orders to all over the place for the same reason, or Master Longston with books, and¡­all of them had their orders ready to ship.¡± She pulled yet another package out of her lunch bag, and unwrapped some seeded flat bread. ¡°And I had to be all soft words and smiles during the whole thing and try to keep my ruff under control. It wasn¡¯t easy, not easy at all.¡±


    Lana sighed and resting her elbows on the table, she cupped her chin in her head, and slowly let the anger drain from her face. Her ruff relaxed a bit more, and bit by bit, she gained a measure of calm. ¡°Sorry to dump all that on you. ¡±


    Umber watched her rant rather bemused, dropping his spoon into the stew he had been eating while she talked, and tried to give her reassuring nods. Reaching across the table, he took one of her hands away from her face and gave it a little squeeze. ¡°Sorry you had to deal with all that this morning.¡±


    She looked at his hand holding hers, managed a small smile, and squeezed his back. ¡° I hope your morning¡¯s been better than mine.¡±


    He nodded, but gave her an ironic smile. ¡°My day¡¯s been less than ordinary as well, but not nearly as traumatic. Thornfield kicked me out of the freight room this morning and said he was going to check in the morning shipment.¡±


    Lana raised her eyebrow at that. ¡°Does he do that often?¡±


    ¡°Every now and then. Claims it¡¯s because I need to learn other things about being a DIC officer, but I suspect it¡¯s when he¡¯s receiving a shipment of things that are not quite sanctioned.¡±


    ¡°You mean things coming up from Brightwater?¡± Lana asked as he ate another bite of his stew. She rolled her eyes. ¡°Everybody here knows that he and the Mayor are deep into the ¡®not quite sanctioned¡¯ business. And it¡¯s not like it¡¯s not well known that there¡¯s always somebody at every Dragon Web station that handles that. Sounds like he doesn¡¯t want to cut you into the profits. By rights he should be sharing the profits with you. That¡¯s how they do it at most stations. The monies that would have been normally been paid as duties are divided up between the DIC workers, instead of being sent back to headquarters.¡±


    Umber shrugged. ¡°Maybe so...that sounds like something he might try to do. But it¡¯s not like they don¡¯t know he¡¯s doing it back at headquarters, and how he¡¯s doing it, no matter what he thinks.¡±


    ¡°Is that so?¡± Lana asked, finally digging into her salad.


    Umber nodded. ¡°I got that word from Master Byrony himself. And he¡¯s like the second highest member of the DIC. But today, perhaps there¡¯s more to Thornfield¡¯s request than usual. There¡¯s an auditor from the DIC headquarters coming by to look at our records. He piled the whole stack of them on my desk this morning, and told me to get them ready. After going through the first volume, I can see why he didn¡¯t want to face the auditor himself. Everything before I came was...well, not quite orderly.¡± He gave her a bitter smile. ¡°Nothing I can¡¯t straighten up, but still¡­¡± He took another bite of stew. ¡°It¡¯s going to take a bit of time to get the papers ready. But I bet in Freight, there are unhappy voices about the whole thing. I can almost hear Gob grumbling while he runs through the invoices.¡±


    Lana smiled at the mental picture, but then grew more serious, looked around the room and saw it was still just the two of them, but even so, she dropped her voice. ¡°Did he ever warn you about red labeled packages?¡±


    ¡°On day two, the first day he showed me what to do with invoices.¡± Umber picked up a piece of bread. ¡°Told me where to stack them in the freight area when they were incoming. Told me how to stack them up when they were outgoing.¡± He dipped his bread into his almost empty bowl. ¡°I never thought much about it. I just figured they were some sort of special handling.¡± He shook his head. ¡°Everybody knows there is a legitimate trade through Brightwater for things not on the sanctioned list. I don¡¯t know why he made it into such a cloak and dagger game.¡±


    ¡°Profit, what else? I believe the mayor and his people have bottlenecked that trade, and boost the prices for it,¡± Lana said. ¡°It¡¯s a long way to the next market town. People would be willing to pay. Nothing exactly wrong with it, but¡­¡±


    ¡°Maybe there are things beyond the not quite sanctioned?¡± Umber asked, barely above a whisper. ¡°Things that Brightwater and Jared Redbeard wouldn¡¯t want their names associated with?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve wondered that myself,¡± Lana said. ¡°No real proof. If they are, it¡¯s pass through. If things like dream dust were ending up here, it¡¯d be hard to hide it.¡± She took another bite of her salad. ¡°No proof, anyway, and it might all just be greed, and this really isn¡¯t the place to talk about it.¡±


    He nodded. ¡°One day, you¡¯ll have to tell me how you¡¯re so up on things.¡±


    ¡°I could just be observant. Maybe I just take after my grandfather¡¯s side of the family. The side with Investigator blood.¡± She took another bite of her lunch.


    ¡°We do tend to pay attention,¡± he said.


    Nodding, she turned back to her lunch.

 Day 19 of the Warming Month, Continued 5

    Chapter 65


    Good allies work together and create more and brighter. Bad alliances cheat often and plant the seeds of their own demise. Careful investigation can reveal which is which. When you discover one that has flaws, press on.


    DIC Manual


    In Pixie Hollow, Rob looked up from where he was working on repairing a fence to watch the small Pixie buzzing around his head.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Bu asked.


    ¡°Fixing the fence,¡± Rob replied. ¡°The goats found away to get into the hayfield when they shouldn¡¯t have. What are you doing this far from the house?¡±


    ¡°Mistress Gan told me to come find you,¡± the little man said, landing on his shoulder. ¡°It¡¯s scary though, being so far from the house. A hawk might get me!¡±


    ¡°Now why would she do that? Did she need me?¡±


    The Pixie shrugged. ¡°Don¡¯t ask me. I just flew in because the kitchen smelled so good and Leila and the Tree Shepherd were there, and it was too early to eat soup.¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± Rob said, reaching for another withy. ¡°You must have been a bit underfoot.¡±


    Bu crossed his arms and frowned. ¡°I wasn¡¯t anywhere near her feet. She might step on me by accident.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t mean it like that, silly,¡± Rob said. He began to weave the withy into the fence frame. ¡°It just means she wanted you to go do something else while she was busy. My mom does that to me all the time.¡±


    ¡°She tries to step on you when you¡¯re in the way?¡± Bu asked, flitting over to the fence structure.


    Rob just shook his head. ¡°No, she tells me to go somewhere else.¡±


    ¡°But I didn¡¯t want to go,¡± the little man said with a sigh. ¡°It smelled so good in there. It makes me hungry just thinking how good it smelled.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± Rob said. ¡°She¡¯ll be sure to let us in when it¡¯s time for lunch. So you can keep me company until it¡¯s time to eat. Just don¡¯t tease the goats. Can¡¯t be sure they won¡¯t eat you.¡±


    A goat, watching the two figures bleated. Bu looked at it wide-eyed.


    The animals were gathered at a respectful distance, grazing placidly for the most part, but looking up from time to time as if something.


    ¡°I wish I had known that these confounded goats were getting out of the pasture before this morning.¡± Rob looked


    One of the goats bleated.


    ¡°I could have told you that yesterday,¡± Bu said, flittering from the fence poll to the gardener.


    ¡°But you didn¡¯t,¡± Rob said.


    Bu shrugged. ¡°You didn¡¯t ask me,¡± the Pixie said.


    Rob took off his cap for a moment, wiped his forehead, and replaced it. ¡°Well, if you see something like that again, tell me.¡± He wiped his neck. ¡°If you¡¯re going to spend all your days watching me work, you might as well make yourself useful.¡±


    Bu scratched his head, as if that was a new idea he never thought of before. ¡°I¡¯m supposed to be useful?¡±


    Hilby flittered down to land next to Bu. ¡°That would be nice for a change.¡±


    ¡°It would be different,¡± Rob said, nodding. ¡°Where¡¯d you come from?¡±


    ¡°I was with Mistress Gan. She¡¯s looking for you.¡±


    ¡°Is she?¡± Rob said. ¡°Can¡¯t be because lunch is ready, can it?¡± He bent over and began picking up a few tools he had dropped on the ground ¨C a small saw, a hatchet, a ball of twine ¨C and began putting them in a bag.


    Hilby shook her head. ¡°She was talking with Mistress Leila and that Tree Shepherd. Something about that noisy thing that happened this morning.¡±


    Rob lifted his bag, and pulled the cord at its neck tight, then slipped the bag¡¯s handle over his shoulder. ¡°That it was. I was over at the cabbage patch when I heard it, dropped everything, and came running. Well, I guess I¡¯ll go back to the house.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think you need to go that far, Rob.¡± Gan and her company walked up to the young man. ¡°You might miss finding me.¡±


    Rob turned around to look behind him and saw Gan dressed in her shawl and carrying her bag and staff, followed by Cullin with his hat pulled low and Leila the nymph following behind. As usual, Moxie was riding on Gan¡¯s shoulder, and a small crowd of the little people flying around the three bigger ones.


    ¡°Hello, ma¡¯am,¡± Rob said as they walked up. ¡°I found where the goats got into the other field. I¡¯ve tried to patch it up.¡±


    Gan walked up to inspect his work, and looked at the twisted collection of poles and withies. ¡°Think it¡¯ll work?¡±


    ¡°For a little while maybe,¡± he said. ¡°Longer if the withies root and we end up with some trees growing here. And if the goats don¡¯t eat them all up.¡±


    Cullin came close and examined the work the gardener had done and ran his hand along some of the rods that had been pushed into the soil. ¡°You have the grower¡¯s magic, don¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°About the only magic I have,¡± Rob admitted.


    ¡°These branches are happy with your touch,¡± the Tree Shepherd said, touching three of them. ¡°You pleased them with giving them more light and soil.¡± The three poles began to glow under Cullin¡¯s touch, and while they watched, small buds formed, and then leaves began to sprout.


    ¡°Oooh!¡± Dahlia said, flitting near to one of the poles. ¡°Look how fast it¡¯s growing!¡±


    ¡°Blessed by a Tree Shepherd,¡± Gan said. She reached into her bag and pulled out a pouch, and began sprinkling its contents, pinch by pinch, in the area in front of the fencing and began singing:


    ¡°Goats, you are clever,This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    your milk is sweet,


    but this place is never


    good for your feet.¡±


    There was a small flash of light. The goat that was nearby, watching all the human activity with placid eyes, suddenly stopped chewing, sniffed the air, and began running back to the other side of the field. Several other goats followed her.


    Gan put the pouch away. ¡°Now if that¡¯s done, let¡¯s go look at what the boar did,¡± and began to head to gate between fields.


    Rob took one more look at his handiwork. The poles had leafed out even more, and he swore they had grown since he had put them in the ground. Shaking his head, he hurried off to follow the others.


    >>>>>>>>>>>>>> <<<<<<<<<<<<<<


    At the Dragonweb station in Goblin Market, while Umber and Lana were taking their early lunch in the break room, things were not as quiet in another part of the station. There was a sudden rumble, and an unscheduled freight carriage popped into existence in the large and currently nearly empty freight hanger. One person hung out in the hallway near the loading zone - Thornfield Witstone.


    ¡°What the¡­.¡± came a voice from the far side of the room where the men who handled the mechanics of securing and sending off the carriages worked. ¡°Nobody told me there was going to be an extra today. Damn it, nearly everybody¡¯s at lunch.¡±


    ¡°Shut your trap, Razin,¡± said an even louder voice. ¡°It only takes two of us. Did you forget how to get your hands dirty since they made you handle the paperwork? Let¡¯s lock¡¯er down. Must be all the extra Crossing Day freight and they forgot to tell us.¡±


    ¡°Maybe so, Cronan¡± Razin said. ¡°Or one of Mayor Turbot¡¯s specials.¡±


    ¡°Bah. Been awhile. Wouldn¡¯t be surprised. Either way, it doesn¡¯t matter. Let¡¯s get her secured before she bounces off into no space and they take it out of our hide.¡±


    Thornfield leaned against the wall as the two men worked, out of their direct sight. He hugged himself, trying to hide something flashing on his male spikes between anxiety and excitement.


    A loud clanking followed, as one of the security bars shot home.


    ¡°Stopped by Jazlin¡¯s station at break,¡± Cronan continued. ¡°She had quite a stack of packages waiting to go. That should do it. Now it¡¯s up to the freight boys.¡±


    ¡°If any of¡¯em show up to work before the afternoon run.¡± Rezin chuckled. ¡°Can you imagine old Thornfield trying to offload the entire shipment himself?¡±


    The two men laughed, their voices receding as they headed back to their office.


    ¡°Where are you, Whinzer? They¡¯re going to be expecting something in return,¡± Thornfield muttered.


    Footsteps neared. He began to relax, but tightened up again when he saw who was moving down the hallway. Gillin Jabot, the delivery manager and coordinator of delivery services, was walking his way, a perplexed and irritated look on his face.


    ¡°And what¡¯s with this? There¡¯s not another scheduled delivery until the afternoon run.¡± Jabot said, looking at his paperwork, then staring up at Thornfield. ¡°Why did this happen? I don¡¯t have anybody here now to handle freight. They¡¯re all at lunch.¡± He folded his arms. ¡°If I wasn¡¯t busy with the paperwork for the next shipment of dry goods for Turbot¡¯s store, I¡¯d be at lunch myself.¡± He narrowed his eyes. ¡°Why are you even here? Do you know anything about it?¡±


    ¡°DIC business,¡± Thornfield muttered, leaning back against the outer wall.


    ¡°Oh, DIC business. Mayor Turbot¡¯s favorite type.¡± His look told Thornfield he knew exactly the type of business extra unscheduled carriages were involved with. ¡°You¡¯re supposed to let me know when that¡¯s happening,¡± Jabot said. ¡°I have to make arrangements and schedules. DIC, even this type of DIC business isn¡¯t that special. It doesn¡¯t own this place. The web station and freight hanger still belongs to B&F, even if some people forget about that. The characters over in the passenger side might not care, but the freight berths and the manpower they take is my business.¡±


    Thornfield shrugged and tried to look just the right amount of contrite, but it was clear that Jabot really wasn¡¯t buying it. ¡°Sorry, I just found out about it by message less than an hour ago. What can I say?¡±


    ¡°You should have come and told me.¡± Jabot crossed his arms and grimaced. ¡°Maybe I could have arranged something. But now¡­¡± He looked at the clipboard in his hand. ¡°I have nothing. If you need any muscle to move things, it¡¯s on your own head. And the carriage needs to be out of the berth in time. I¡¯ve got a full load to send off on the afternoon run. Don¡¯t know what they¡¯re thinking about down in Sunderland.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve got manpower coming. They¡¯ll be here soon.¡±


    ¡°Some of Turbot¡¯s goons no doubt. Hope you¡¯re not getting that nice young Umber messed up in whatever muck this is.¡± Jabot tucked his clipboard under his arm. ¡°Gob¡¯s never worked so hard since he came to be your second. Best first year that I¡¯ve seen in a long time.¡±


    Thornfield flinched, and his spikes flashed a momentary color of resentment, before returning to normal. ¡°Audit time. He¡¯s busy doing paperwork.¡±


    ¡°Better that than this.¡± Jabot turned and walked back to his desk, muttering under his breath the whole time.


    Thornfield spit after he was out of sight. ¡°What does that old man know?I¡¯ll be living the good life in the mountains while he¡¯s still trying to send freight and ignoring his aching back.¡±


    He waited a moment more, then he went over to the door of the freight carriage and unlocked it. It squealed as the sliding door rolled open.


    ¡°Took you long enough,¡± a burley Daoine Si man, long silver hair plaited into a gold bound braid said. His red silk shirt was covered by a leather vest that bulged in places. Thornfield assumed it was some sort of magical armor. ¡°Where¡¯s Whinzer? I expected him or maybe Tibart to meet me here today. This load isn¡¯t leaving until I get my goods.¡±


    Thornfill stepped inside of the carriage. ¡°Whinzer¡¯s on his way, Serin. Tibart went back to Brightwater this morning. Or so Turbot told me.¡± He scratched under his chin. ¡°Tibart left the goods with him. We didn¡¯t think it was a good idea to leave them floating around the office. My new first year might have found them, and then who knows what would have happened.¡±


    ¡°There are ways to handle noisy first years,¡± Serin said, crossing his arms.


    ¡°Not this one. He¡¯s too well connected.¡± Thornfield began examining the stacked crates and making notations in a notebook. ¡°If he disappears, it¡¯ll cause more problems than it¡¯s worth. And he¡¯s too full of young man ideas to bring into the business.¡± He opened the top of a small crate filled with contraband knives, picked one up, examined it, and put it back. ¡°We¡¯ll send this one onto Waterford by Glint. Too many to sell locally.¡± He made a mark on the crate. ¡°Anyway, I was surprised to see it was you bringing in the load today. I thought you were in Redbeard¡¯s special graces.¡±


    Serin shrugged. ¡°Money talks. Worth trying.¡±


    ¡°Money is sweet,¡± said another voice. ¡°And it excuses many sins.¡±


    The two men turned around, and saw Whinzer walking into the carriage, followed by two of Turbot¡¯s men. The two men carried in a crate.


    ¡°I think this is what you were waiting for,¡± Whinzer said. ¡°Fresh in from our supplier today. I do believe your Shadowlands customers will be more than pleased.¡± He slid the lid of the container open just a bit. Reaching into the box, he pulled back layers of embroidered cloths meant to hide a cursory inspection, to reveal a row of neatly packed touchstones. ¡°Twenty jumpstones.¡±


    Serin bent over, his silver braid falling over his shoulder, almost touching the He picked one up and examined it without activating. It was a gray stone with a flat button that would slide across the surface. Turning it over, he saw that it was free of the B&F logo. ¡°Looks right,¡± he said. ¡°What about a programming box?¡±


    ¡°Couldn¡¯t do it this run.¡± Whinzer shrugged. ¡°These are all programmed to the market square in Brightwater. At least it gets them over the boundary.¡±


    ¡°My contact won¡¯t be happy. He was hoping for fifty and a programmer.¡± Serin sighed. ¡°Glad he¡¯s Drow and not Doghead. Those hotheads might have eaten me. Still...I doubt he¡¯ll turn them down.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re a new operation. We have to make sure we get everything set up right first. If this goes through well, there will be more,¡± Whinzer said. ¡°The rest is up to you.¡±


    They haggled a little more, discussing the discount Whinzer would give them over the previously agreed on price while Thornfield went through the rest of the crates, marking which ones were for selling locally and which should be shipped on. When he was done, he signalled to Whinzer¡¯s men who moved the local freight out to transport to Turbot¡¯s warehouses.


    Finally, freight moved and money exchanged, Whinzer and and rest moved out, and with a signal from Thornfield, the transport crew sent the freight carriage on its way. Thornfield and Whinzer watched the men haul the last of the goods off.


    ¡°Glad that¡¯s done,¡± Thornfield said. ¡°I think I¡¯ll kick Umber here for the afternoon freight and take the afternoon off. What took you so long to get here?¡±


    ¡°Had to ride up past Allynswoods land to make my connection. It¡¯s a bit of a ride ¨C past Pixie Hollow. Shipper said Allynswood was too close to where old Briarwood lives. It gave him the creeps. Said Briarwood has spies everywhere.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Said maybe one day the Allyns would learn he¡¯s not such a good neighbor.¡±


    ¡°Good luck on that one,¡± Thornfield said, turning to head back to his office. ¡°See you at Turbot¡¯s this evening.¡±


    ¡°If they haven¡¯t sent me somewhere else,¡± Whinzer said, and headed for the exit.