ã€ŠNimrienã€‹


 Prologue

    The view from the top of Wente Tower was spectacular as always. Nimrien flourished in the springtime, with lush green foliage blanketing the land and climbing up the mountainsides. Wildflowers dotted the landscape with splashes of blue, purple and pink, accompanied by the rise and fall of faint birdsong.

    ¡°Good boy,¡± Bartok crooned, stroking the hound laying on the cushion beside his chair. ¡°You¡¯ve been so quiet and patient today.¡±

    The hound yawned and stretched, displaying a flame flickering ominously in his throat.

    ¡°What do you think, Astus?¡± he continued. Astus sat up, scratched vigorously for a moment, then cocked his head to the side, almost like he wanted clarification. Bartok smiled at him and went on. ¡°Do you think the stories are true? Should we intervene?¡±

    Astus sighed, letting out a puff of smoke. He arched his back luxuriously as his master scratched between his ears.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    ¡°That¡¯s my good boy,¡± Bartok murmured. ¡°Yes, we will intervene. We can¡¯t have things going on as they have been forever, can we?¡±

    He reached out to the side table for some parchment, and wrote a message detailing the matter at hand: the existence of a certain grimoire, an ancient and highly valuable tome, hidden somewhere in the wide expanse of Nimrien. It was a message deliberately designed to appeal to the greed of its recipient. He took care to extol the great wonder of the grimoire, its rarity, its beauty¡­ and its value. The grimoire was priceless, in more ways than one.

    With a snap of his finger, he summoned the messenger out of the shadows where he had been waiting. ¡°Take this to Lerastir,¡± he ordered. ¡°Deliver it to the Collector. There will be no need to wait for a reply.¡±

    As the messenger hurried off down the mountainside, Bartok stroked Astus again. The hound sneezed, the flame in his throat igniting more fully and setting the fringe of the cushion alight.

    ¡°Things are about to happen in Nimrien, Astus.¡± Bartok said, not even blinking as he put the cushion out with a wave of his wand. ¡°Things are about to happen, and you and I are the catalyst.¡±

 1: Bill

    Standing on a stool while his mother pinned and hemmed his robes was one thing. Submitting to being stuck with what he felt certain was the twelfth pin in a row was more than he could bear.

    "How much longer is this going to take? Lorien the Luminescent is unaccustomed to being subjected to this sort of torture,¡± Bill huffed. ¡°Other wizards have professional robe makers to tend to their robes. Professional robe makers don¡¯t stick their customers with pins.¡±

    ¡°Oh you with that Lorien nonsense,¡± his mother mumbled around a mouthful of pins. ¡°Why you can¡¯t just be content to use the name your father and I gave you, goddesses rest him, is beyond me. I know you get to choose once you¡¯re seventeen and done with your training, but honestly, you could have been Bill the Brilliant, or Bill the Bold. You''re not an elf, you''re a human, and you come from a good family that loves you.¡±

    ¡°But Mum, Lorien sounds so much more majestic than Bill! I need a professional image that will sell me and what I can do!¡±

    Bill''s mother snorted. ¡°What is it you can do? I watched you sit your examinations. You turned a chicken into a toad that still had feathers, and when you tried to conjure water out of nowhere, it came out as tea.¡±

    Bill¡¯s cheeks flushed red, but he said nothing. If the chicken had held still, it might not have ended up a feathered toad. And tea... well.

    That could have happened to anyone.

    ¡°Still I suppose that''s a talent to have,¡± his mother mused. ¡°Tea, out of nothing! Makes me want to keep you here at home with me and trot you out at parties. Think of it! My son, the teapot.¡± She chortled at her own humor.

    Bill struggled to get down from the stool. ¡°I won''t be made the butt of the joke, Mother.¡±

    ¡°Oh settle down. If you can''t take a bit of teasing from your dear old Mum, then you won''t last a day out there in the real world. There.¡± She leaned back to look at her work. The hem was even with the robes just brushing the tops of Bill''s shabby boots.

    ¡°I wish we could afford new boots for you,¡± she mused.

    ¡°I wish we could afford a professional robe maker,¡± Bill grumbled.

    ¡°Well if I could afford to send you to one I would, but I can''t. You''ll either have to make do with Mumsy''s sewing, or sew it yourself.¡± Phyllis stood and dusted off her knees. ¡°I don''t know why you''re such a grouch. Your father gave everything he had so that you could go to school, and have we heard so much as a thank you? No, we have not! Not one!¡±

    ¡°Thank you Mum,¡± Bill mumbled. ¡°I do appreciate you, you know.¡±

    ¡°Yes, well you''ve got a funny way of showing it. They should call me Phyllis the Patient, for putting up with you,¡± she grumbled back, but she smiled. ¡°Right, take them off so I can finish them up, then go down to the inn and check the board. You never know, something new might have been pinned up since you checked this morning.¡±

    <hr>

    After shucking the too-big robes, Bill grabbed his wand and shoved it in the pocket of his trousers before trudging toward the village noticeboard. He could have been there in minutes, but instead he dawdled, gazing around as he walked. The longer he took to get there, the longer it would be before he had to go home, still unemployed. He skirted around the back wall of the apothecary, winding his way past the Alchemy District and the pet store.

    The buildings in this part of town were uniformly shabby, run-down, and unimpressive: most were beginning to crumble at the edges and some even had visible cracks in their walls. They were constructed from the same cheap materials as his own house, bricks and wood from the surrounding countryside outside the Lerastir walls, and roofs of thatch obtained from nearby Babin.

    He turned the corner and was hit with the usual hustle and bustle of the midday traffic, of stall owners bartering and peddling their wares, of guard armor clinking, of babies crying.

    For a town that produced almost nothing of its own, Lerastir somehow managed to be the center of commerce and culture in West Nimrien. People of all races traveled here to meet, and to barter. Bill thrust his hand in his pocket and jangled the two brass noudas together. On his way from the far side of the market to the noticeboard, he spent one on a serving of peas fried in butter and salt, and the other on a cone of sugared nuts.

    Bill pushed past a handful of people to get to the noticeboard, leaving granulated sugar in his wake. He held his breath and scanned the jobs.

    He cursed, and then blushed slightly as the elderly woman next to him tutted disapprovingly. He had hoped that the answer to his problems would have appeared since he last looked, but there was nothing new. Even poking under the scraps of parchment didn¡¯t turn up anything new.

    He stumbled back a few steps, his mother¡¯s voice echoing in his mind.

    What¡¯s wrong with that one? Well, Mum, I don¡¯t want to take a job cleaning someone¡¯s house after two years of learning to be a wizard. Plus you always tell me I¡¯m rubbish at cleaning.

    Why won¡¯t you give that one a try? Because, Mum, small children either dislike me on sight and cry until I leave, or they laugh and jeer at me.

    He had to believe the world had more in store for him than a life of drudgery in sodding Lerastir. His shoulders slumped, and he kicked out at an innocent stone before heading for his house.

    His mother¡¯s voice continued to play in his ears: Ask around, see if any passers-by need any work done. Odd jobs are still work. No thank you, Mum. He hadn¡¯t stooped that low yet, and he didn¡¯t ever intend to. Lorien the Luminescent did not beg. He wrinkled his nose in disgust.

    Unfortunately for Bill, when one finishes wizard academy firmly in the lower half of their class, there aren¡¯t too many jobs being handed out. Most people, when hiring a wizard, prefer to hire one who won''t accidentally blow up their castles.

    To put off the moment when he would have to tell his mother there was still no suitable work available, he took another route home past the court of Lerastir. He weaved through a series of marble pillars, skipped along the edge of a fountain, and gave his approximation of a smart salute to a statue of Emirkol the Chaotic. The structures here were much more a feast for Bill''s hungry eyes than his own neighborhood. He lived among cottages, shabbiness and dreary colors. Here were mansions, towers and bright banners of wealthy families everywhere.

    ¡°Oi you. Kid. State your name and business,¡± came a voice. Bill turned to see a guard giving him the hairy eyeball. He straightened himself up to his full height before answering.

    ¡°I am Lorien the Luminescent, a wizard and your better, and I am tending to my own business,¡± he declared, his voice only cracking once.

    The guard looked him up and down. ¡°A wizard? Where¡¯s your robes then? And your beard? Seems like a better name for you would be Stephen the Shite,¡± he snickered.

    Bill clenched his teeth and screwed his face up for a second. Was he really that hopeless? Nobody took him seriously¡ªnot even his own mother. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!

    ¡°I could turn you into a toad for saying that to me,¡± he threatened with narrowed eyes.

    The guard just shrugged. ¡°Toad food would be a lot cheaper than mutton and mead. Go on then. Do your worst, or bugger off.¡±

    Taking a deep breath, Bill racked his brains for the right incantation, then slumped when he realized he had no idea what it was. It wasn¡¯t his fault though! He¡¯d been ill the day they went through turning people into toads. Though it pained him to admit it, the chance of showing himself up badly was greater than he cared to risk.

    ¡°Right then,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯ll let you away with a warning, but let this be a lesson to you not to speak with such disrespect to your betters.¡±

    Bill did his best to keep his back straight and his pace slow as he strode away, even though the guard¡¯s laughter rang in his ears. Once out of sight, he shoved his hands deep into his pockets and kicked at a stone.

    ¡°I could have done it,¡± he told himself. ¡°I just didn''t want to.¡± And to prove it to himself, he pulled out his wand, flicked it in the direction of the stone, and was gratified to see it turn into a clod of earth. A small bit of magic, sure, but he¡¯d pulled it off, hadn''t he? That guard didn''t know what he was talking about.

    ¡°Stephen the Shite?¡± he scoffed. ¡°I''m Lorien the bloody Luminescent, that¡¯s who I am. But they ought to call me Lorien the Lenient for holding back.¡±

    He still didn''t want to go straight home, so he doubled back to the Sage and Flagon and went inside. A few die hard regulars slumped over the bar nursing flagons of ale, and an older couple sat eating at a table. Bill walked up to the counter, puffed out his chest, made sure he was standing up as tall as he could, and ordered an ale.

    ¡°What you want an ale for, to give to your daddy?¡± the innkeeper laughed. ¡°Come back when you''ve got a few hairs on your chin. I don''t sell ale to kids.¡±

    ¡°I have got hair on my chin!¡± Bill protested. ¡°Look!¡±

    He pointed to the solitary hair that had sprouted from his chin a few days earlier. It was sort of delicate, which made it a bit hard to spot, but it was there! ¡°So can I have an ale or not?¡±

    ¡°Not,¡± the innkeeper said with a tone of finality. ¡°Tell you what though, you can have a goat''s milk on the house, I''m that sorry for you. That do you?¡±

    Bill stormed back out of the bar, ears burning at the cackles and titters that followed him.

    Of course, since he was already having a crap day, Fate just had to send his arch nemesis to meet him outside the inn.

    Trevor, or ¡°Trevor the Triumphant¡± as he had so sickeningly dubbed himself, had been in the same classes as Bill all the way through their wizard training. In terms of ability, they had been evenly matched, but Trevor scored a couple of marks higher than Bill on almost every test¡ªand he never let Bill forget it.

    ¡°What were you doing in the inn? Buying ale? You know they won¡¯t sell to you,¡± Trevor sneered.

    ¡°So what? It isn''t as if they¡¯d sell to you, either!¡±

    ¡°Bet they would. I look older than you. At least I have hair on my chin.¡±

    ¡°I have got hair on my chin! It¡¯s right here!¡± Incensed, Bill took a step forward and shoved Trevor in the chest, hard.

    Trevor barely swayed.

    ¡°You¡¯re a wimp, and a hairless-chinned loser,¡± he taunted. He shoved back, and Bill went sprawling into the dirt. ¡°And that¡¯s what you get for messing with your betters!¡±

    Trevor strode off, leaving Bill to pick himself up and dust himself off.

    Obviously, Lerastir and all who dwelt within it were against him. He blinked a few times, then rubbed his eyes hard. Lorien the Luminescent did not cry. Especially not in public where anyone could see him.

    He turned and began trudging home. Even if his mother was an annoying pain in the bum sometimes, at least she would make him a hot meal.

    <hr>

    ¡°Bill!¡± Phyllis called, right on cue as he walked in the door. ¡°Come and peel the potatoes, darling. We¡¯ll have shepherd¡¯s pie for lunch, shall we? And I¡¯ll put the cheese on top, just the way you like it.¡±

    Had anyone else been around to see, and had he not just suffered such a humiliation at Trevor¡¯s hand, Bill might have commented about how Lorien the Luminescent was too important to be peeling potatoes. After the day he''d had though, he wasn¡¯t feeling all that luminescent. He walked over to the pile of potatoes, but stopped on the way to give his mother a hug.

    ¡°What was that for?¡± she asked him, surprised but pleased.

    ¡°Nothing,¡± Bill mumbled. ¡°I just love you, that''s all.¡±

    The two worked together in silence to prepare lunch. Once it was in the oven, Phyllis addressed the troll in the corner.

    ¡°Did you look at the board?¡±

    ¡°I did, but there''s still nothing suitable there,¡± he said. He was sort of telling the truth: there was nothing there that interested him.

    ¡°That''s funny. When I looked last night, there were at least half a dozen ads wanting people for odd jobs or childcare,¡± she remarked.

    Bill stared at the table, gritting his teeth. ¡°Mum, stop! Do you think Dad would have wanted me to waste my wizard training on mucking out someone''s stables, or changing dirty nappies? I don¡¯t! I think he would have wanted me to have adventures¡ªthe kind of adventures he never got to have.¡±

    Phyllis banged his plate down in front of him. ¡°And I think your father would agree that I can''t keep running this family by myself! This lunch is an entire afternoon''s work worth of food, and it¡¯s one meal! You can''t just sit on your backside waiting for someone to hand you your dream job ¡®someday¡¯. I need you to help me now.¡±

    ¡°I''m trying!¡± Bill exploded.

    ¡°You¡¯re not trying hard enough!¡±

    The argument paused long enough for the two of them to eat. Phyllis ate slowly, chewing each bite twenty times as was her custom. Bill, on the other hand, bolted his food down in an attempt to get away from the table¡ªand his mother¡¯s scrutiny¡ªfaster. He felt his mother¡¯s eyes on him, and cringed under the weight of her gaze. She might not still be nagging verbally, but her expression said everything.

    He couldn¡¯t take it any longer.

    ¡°You know I can¡¯t settle for menial labor when I could be doing something so much better. I won¡¯t!¡±

    ¡°Lunch is over,¡± his mother said, whipping his half-finished plate out from under him and dumping it in the sink. ¡°I think you need to ask yourself what¡¯s more important: your stubborn pride, or eating. The reality is, the way things are going, if you don¡¯t get off your backside and find work, I can¡¯t afford to keep you.¡±

    Bill scowled, pushed his chair away from the table, and stalked out of the house without a word. He fully intended to slam the front door behind him, but then he saw the glossy, rich looking envelope pinned to it. It bore his name, his wizard name, in flowing red calligraphy.

    He detached the envelope from the door, looking up and down the street. Both ways, the street was empty: he didn¡¯t see anyone who could have delivered the envelope. But then, he thought, they had been inside long enough to cook, eat, and fight over lunch.

    He scrutinized the envelope, turning it over in his hands. It was made of paper that people like him and Mumsy could never hope to afford. He had never held a piece of paper this expensive in his hands.

    His hands trembled as he sat down on his front step and carefully tore it open.

    Lorien the Luminescent (Bill), the note read.

    The Collector requests your presence at his home at ten tomorrow morning. This meeting is for the purposes of hiring your services as a wizard for one (1) quest. The nature of this quest is sensitive and will be revealed at said meeting.

    If you do not wish to accept this engagement, do nothing. If your intention is to attend the meeting, leave your name and rank on a piece of parchment on the steps of the Collector¡¯s home by no later than sundown tonight.

    Please be advised, it is expected that you will make any necessary arrangements prior to arrival, as acceptance of this quest will mean immediate departure.

    Bill read the message three times before it sank in. Of all the coincidences, right after he had fought with his mother about money and his lack of a job, one really had fallen right in his lap. He leapt up and punched the air, letting out a whoop of excitement. Everyone knew the Collector. He was world famous in Lerastir for his huge house full of beautiful, valuable things¡ªand he had a quest for him, Lorien the Luminescent! Finally, word of his greatness had reached the appropriate ears.

    ¡°I''m going out, Mum!¡± he yelled, and sped off toward the prosperous district where the Collector lived.

    When he got to the Collector¡¯s house, there were five slips of parchment present already, four weighted down by stones and one pinned right to the door by a small dagger. That one read ¡°Sestra of Lerastir. Thief.¡±

    Bill rummaged in his pockets, then paled. ¡°I didn¡¯t bring any bloody parchment,¡± he swore. ¡°My big break and I forgot the bloody, bloody parchment.¡±

    ¡°Oi. Kid.¡±

    Bill knew that voice: it was the guard who had mocked him earlier in the day. He stiffened, squaring his shoulders. The guard merely smirked, and shoved a piece of parchment and a stick of charcoal at him. ¡°Looks like we can change your name from Stephen the Shite, to Fergus the Fortunate,¡± he quipped.

    ¡°Why...?¡± Bill began, then changed his mind. It was probably better not to tempt fate by calling attention to this apparent change of heart.

    ¡°Cos I ain''t a toad yet, see?¡± the guard answered Bill''s unasked question with a shrug. ¡°Figured I been spared by your gracious whim.¡± He winked, and walked off whistling.

    Bill scribbled ¡°Lorien the Luminescent of Lerastir, Wizard¡± on the parchment and studied the ones already on the step.

    ¡°Callania of the Six Seas, Ranger¡±.

    ¡°Elion of Befalls, Bard¡±.

    Bill placed his name above ¡°Nalyn of Peaddena Plateau, Fighter¡± and ¡°Torbek of Pacot, Cleric (Servant of Ophina)¡± and let out a shaky breath.

    Trevor the Triumphant could eat his heart out, because Bill¡¯s name was on the Collector¡¯s front step, and Trevor¡¯s was not.

 2: Bill

    It did occur to Bill that being chosen out of the blue, for a quest he knew nothing about, for a man he¡¯d never met, was on the odd side. Despite this, he was just so pleased that he could avoid menial labor and nappy changing that he chose to overlook it.

    He should have known that his mother would not.

    ¡°Who is this man?¡± she asked as he began shoving his belongings in a bag.

    ¡°You know, Mumsy,¡± Bill groaned. ¡°The Collector. It¡¯s not as if he¡¯s not well known around these parts. He collects things. He gets people to go questing for him.¡±

    ¡°So why you?¡±

    Bill scowled.

    ¡°Why not me?¡± he snapped. ¡°Why shouldn¡¯t he pick me, fresh out of wizarding academy? Why shouldn¡¯t he want a brand new wizard to do his bidding? Why can¡¯t you just be proud of me like a mother ought to be?¡±

    ¡°I can see him wanting a brand new wizard to make sure he never runs out of tea,¡± Phyllis retorted. ¡°But what else can you do, realistically?¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t win, can I? You¡¯ve spent the last two days, and the months leading up to graduation, going on and on about how I need to find a job and help you out. You can¡¯t afford to keep me, you need me to get off my backside and help you. Now I¡¯ve got this amazing opportunity and all you can do is pick it to pieces!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m trying to look out for you!¡±

    ¡°Well you can¡¯t bloody well have it both bloody ways!¡± Bill¡¯s face was red as he shouted. ¡°This can go one of two ways, Mum. Either you¡¯re serious about me needing to go out and seek my fortune, in which case you need to shut up with all your nasty, picky questions and just be happy for me and let me go! Or, you think this is a bad idea and want me to turn it down, in which case you can shut up nagging me about getting a job, because I¡¯m not changing nappies when I¡¯ve just had a quest bloody well handed to me and you picked it to pieces and wouldn¡¯t let me go!¡±

    Both of them glared at each other, seemingly at an impasse. The only sound, for long moments, was that of their breathing, angry and impassioned.

    Then, with a crack that rang through the room, Phyllis slapped Bill soundly across the cheek.

    ¡°How dare you speak to your mother like that,¡± she spat, her voice dripping in cold fury.

    Bill¡¯s own hand flew up to cup his red cheek. ¡°How dare I? How dare you?¡±

    ¡°No one in this family ever had ideas above their station until you came along, Bill,¡± Phyllis told him. ¡°A life of nice, honest, simple hard work was good enough for everyone else in this family before you.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not my fault that no one before me ever wanted a better life for themselves,¡± Bill retorted, still clutching his cheek. ¡°It¡¯s not my fault that sewing pays a pittance. It¡¯s not my fault that Dad died.¡±

    ¡°But it is your fault that you¡¯re lazy and proud!¡±

    ¡°Where do you think I got my pride?¡± Bill roared back. He took a deep breath, shouldered his bag, and stalked toward the door. ¡°I don¡¯t care what you think. I¡¯m going on this quest to seek my fortune. And once I¡¯m gone, you won¡¯t have to spend all your food on feeding me. So good riddance, right?¡±

    But as he closed the door behind him, two fat tears escaped, sliding down his cheeks before he dashed them angrily away.

    ¡°I do love you, Mumsy,¡± he whispered. ¡°But we can¡¯t go on like this, you know we can¡¯t.¡± And so saying, he readjusted the knapsack on his back and set off for the Collector¡¯s house.

    Back in the house, Phyllis wept.

    <hr>

    Given that he wasn¡¯t supposed to report for this quest until ten o¡¯clock the following morning, Bill found himself in a quandary about what to do next. He couldn¡¯t go back to the inn, or he¡¯d be laughed back out. Besides, he hadn¡¯t any money. He couldn¡¯t go back home, because his pride wouldn¡¯t let him. He didn¡¯t really have any friends with whom he could spend a night, because they were all in the same boat he and Mumsy were in: too many mouths to feed, and not enough money to do it.

    He walked in circles for a while, then found himself standing outside the home of The Collector fully fourteen hours before he was supposed to be there. He found a small niche where the outer wall met the gate, and settled himself down to wait for morning.

    ¡°You been crying,¡± came a voice.

    ¡°Have not,¡± he defended himself.

    ¡°Have so,¡± the voice insisted. ¡°Your eyes are all red, and there¡¯s a smudge on your cheek with a big tear track running through it.¡±

    Hastily, Bill swiped at his cheeks, rubbing them hard, then scowled into the gathering darkness. ¡°It was two tears! And so what if I have been? I¡¯ve just had a dreadful fight with my mother.¡±

    With a soft thud, a small body swung itself off the top of the wall and landed beside him. ¡°Why¡¯d you fight?¡±

    Bill had to squint to make out who was speaking to him. A halfling, he deduced. The aroma emanating from her was somewhere between three week old garbage and sweaty socks. ¡°Because she was being unreasonable.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯d she do?¡±

    ¡°She asked me to get a job.¡±

    The halfling flopped to the ground and howled with laughter, which didn¡¯t exactly endear her to Bill. ¡°Seriously? She asked you to get a job, and instead of just doing it, you had a ¡®dreadful fight¡¯ with her and flounced out crying?¡±

    ¡°Well, it wasn¡¯t quite like that,¡± Bill faltered.

    ¡°You¡¯re an idiot,¡± the halfling pronounced, flicking her long tangled hair out of her eyes. ¡°I don¡¯t even have a mum, and I know it¡¯s idiotic to fight over something like that. You should have just got a job like she said. Then you wouldn¡¯t be out here at night. Then you wouldn¡¯t have had to cry. That¡¯s what it is, the crying, that shows you¡¯re just a big Mama¡¯s boy, see?¡±

    ¡°Am not,¡± Bill grumbled.

    ¡°Yeah, you are,¡± the halfling smirked. ¡°But I don¡¯t see how there¡¯s anything wrong with that. If I¡¯d had a Mum, I might¡¯ve turned out to be a Mama¡¯s girl myself. But I don¡¯t, so I didn¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t mean to be rude,¡± Bill said, lying through his teeth. She had been rude to him! Why shouldn¡¯t he be rude to her? ¡°But who are you, and why are you talking to me?¡±

    ¡°Name¡¯s Sestra. I¡¯m supposed to do this thing here tomorrow, but like you, I ain¡¯t got no place to spend the night.¡±

    ¡°You haven¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡±

    ¡°You haven¡¯t got any place to spend the night.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what I said: I ain¡¯t got no place to spend the night,¡± Sestra said impatiently, drawing herself up to her entire height¡ªa head and a half shorter than Bill. ¡°You got wax in your ears or what?¡±Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    Bill sighed. ¡°If we¡¯re going to quest together, you¡¯re going to have to learn to be a little less¡­¡± he paused, considering. ¡°Obnoxious.¡±

    ¡°I dunno what obnoxious means, but if I gotta learn it, or how not to be it, maybe you oughtta learn how not to be a git. Fair¡¯s fair.¡±

    Gritting his teeth, Bill turned his back on the aggravating halfling. ¡°I¡¯m going to sleep. Kindly don¡¯t address me any further.¡±

    ¡°Suit yourself,¡± Sestra shrugged. ¡°If you want to be in bed before the sun even gets all the way down, and without supper too, then that¡¯s your lookout. Me, I¡¯m for food.¡±

    Food. Bill¡¯s stomach growled as the fundamental flaw in his planning was pointed out. No doubt the questing party would either find or buy some, or have some provided for them, but for now he had nothing. ¡°I could eat,¡± he admitted.

    ¡°I¡¯ll bet you could,¡± Sestra laughed. ¡°Sucks for you, doesn¡¯t it?¡± With that, she took off running.

    Leaving his knapsack tucked out of sight in the little corner, Bill tore after her.

    ¡°Hey, wait for me!¡± he called.

    <hr>

    Of course, she led him back to the Sage and Flagon, the site of his earlier humiliation. He didn¡¯t see how being here did them any good though. He still didn¡¯t have any money, and he doubted very much she was the sort to buy him a meal.

    ¡°So now what?¡± he puffed, out of breath.

    ¡°Watch and learn,¡± she scoffed, and without any warning burst into tears.

    Bill was horrified, and reached out to try and offer some comfort, but she waved him off with a stern look in her streaming eyes. And sure enough, before two minutes had passed, her piteous wailing had attracted the attention of the innkeeper, who came to the door to see what the commotion was all about.

    ¡°Hey now, what¡¯s the trouble?¡± he said, in a not unkind voice.

    ¡°W-we were robbed,¡± Sestra howled. ¡°We done all this work, honest work, for a day¡¯s pay, and then these horrible men came and pushed us down and stole all our money, and now we can¡¯t have anything to e-e-eat!¡±

    She shot Bill a meaningful look, and after a beat, he caught on. ¡°Yeah, it was¡­ it was really bad,¡± he said in the most pitiful voice he could muster.

    ¡°You both better come in and have some steak and kidney pie,¡± the innkeeper said gruffly. If he remembered Bill from earlier, he didn¡¯t mention it. ¡°Can¡¯t have young ones going hungry, not on my watch.¡±

    ¡°Thanks, mister,¡± Sestra said, ostentatiously wiping her eyes on her sleeve. She followed him inside, Bill trailing behind her, and before long they were set up at a table with a hearty helping of pie and a flagon of cordial each.

    ¡°Brilliant, ain¡¯t it?¡± Sestra said happily, tucking in without a single trace of remorse or guilt. Bill was slightly uneasy, but he was hungry, and he didn¡¯t exactly have any other options.

    As they ate, Bill looked around. He¡¯d never actually been in the bar at night before, and it was filled with all sorts of travelers and merchants from far off places.

    A pair of bickering dwarves caught his eye, and he watched them with interest as he chewed his pie. He¡¯d never seen dwarves before, not really. In passing in the marketplace, perhaps, but not this close.

    ¡°I cannot fathom why you refuse to let me carry it!¡± the male blustered.

    ¡°Because, Torbek, I¡¯m perfectly capable of carrying it myself,¡± the female returned. Bill wouldn¡¯t have picked a fight with her if he were Torbek. She was pretty sturdy looking, and while her words and tone were patient, the look in her eye intimidated Bill. The axe at her feet intimidated him even more.

    The male, Torbek, was agitated, getting quite red in the face as the argument went on. It was beginning to be difficult to see where his face ended and his red beard started. The female was a lot calmer¡ªand less beardy¡ªbut even Bill the Oblivious could tell that she was tense.

    ¡°What you looking at?¡± Sestra asked him. He nodded in the direction of the dwarves.

    ¡°Do you think they¡¯re married? My mum and dad used to bicker like that. They sound like they might be married.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t know nothing about no marriage, and I ain¡¯t never had a mum or a dad, so what would I know?¡± Sestra shrugged. ¡°Don¡¯t see as how it matters overmuch to us though.¡±

    It didn¡¯t, if Bill was honest, but his interest had been piqued.

    ¡°I say, are you going to live the entirety of your life this way? Difficult, moody, bloody-minded and impossible?¡± Torbek demanded.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to live my life my way, and that¡¯s an end to it!¡± the female shot back.

    ¡°Is it actually necessary for you to come on this quest?¡±

    ¡°About as necessary as it is for you to come.¡±

    ¡°Well, of course it¡¯s necessary for me to come. How would this party curry favor with the goddesses if there were no cleric along?¡±

    ¡°We could try not being unbelievable prats.¡±

    That made Sestra giggle delightedly, and she raised her flagon in salute to the female dwarf. ¡°Good one!¡± she called. The dwarves both looked over, and Bill ducked his head, not wanting to be caught staring. Sestra didn¡¯t seem to care. ¡°You tell him!¡± she called, and was rewarded by what looked like amusement in the female dwarf¡¯s eyes. Torbek did not share the sentiment.

    ¡°Mind your own business,¡± he said in a forbidding tone, but of course, Sestra didn¡¯t care. Bill was already beginning to get the measure of her, and frankly, she unnerved him. He¡¯d only known her an hour or so and already he could feel himself cringe whenever she opened her mouth, because he never knew what was going to come out of it.

    ¡°You made it our business when you decided to have a scrap in the dining room, mate,¡± she laughed.

    Torbek, incensed, turned and made his way towards their table. Bill cringed, but Sestra didn¡¯t even flinch.

    ¡°What are you going to do, hit me?¡± she taunted him.

    And in actuality, it looked like that was exactly what was going to happen, that he was going to hit her. Luckily, the innkeeper had been taking note of what was happening, and was already on his way over to loom ominously beside the table. He was at least two feet taller than Torbek, who spat contemptuously and backed off.

    ¡°You just make friends everywhere you go, don¡¯t you?¡± Bill quipped, beginning to eat faster just on the off chance that Sestra decided to do something else obnoxious and get them kicked out.

    ¡°What do I care? Never had a friend before, and I turned out just fine. Don¡¯t see no reason to start making nice now.¡±

    ¡°Clearly,¡± Bill murmured.

    <hr>

    Spending the night wedged between a gate and a wall, covered in nothing but a shabby cloak, wasn¡¯t exactly how Bill had pictured setting off on a quest, but he still refused to go home, so he had to make do. At least he wasn¡¯t alone. Sestra bedded down a few yards away, hidden in shadow. Bill buried his nose in his cloak, breathing in the scent of the soap his mother used for laundry. It was much better than smelling Sestra.

    Still, it was a relief when the sun came up. It was going to be a beautiful day, perfect for questing. Bill stood, stretched, and rubbed his eyes, and saw that there were four more people there than had been there the night before.

    There were two elves, one short and dark, the other blonde and statuesque, and there were two dwarves¡ªthe dwarves from the night before. Bill flushed, and nodded politely at the volatile male dwarf. Torbek was shorter than the female dwarf, but he was much wider. His hair was a shock of red, and his hairline was beginning to recede, while the female, whose name he still hadn¡¯t caught, had curly black hair tied neatly back.

    ¡°So should we get on with the introductions, or what?¡± the little male elf burbled, his words spilling all over themselves as he danced from foot to foot. ¡°I¡¯m Elion, and I¡¯m as chuffed as two short chuffed things to be going on my first quest!¡±

    Two short chuffed things? Bill blinked, bewildered, but Elion didn¡¯t even pause for breath.

    ¡°I read all the papers left on the step while you were all sleeping, and I reckon I¡¯ve just about worked out who¡¯s who. You¡¯re Callania, am I right?¡± He pointed to the other elf, who nodded and smiled. ¡°And you two are the dwarves, Nalyn, and Thornden¡­¡±

    ¡°Torbek,¡± Torbek rumbled, looking disgruntled. ¡°Can¡¯t have studied the papers all that hard if you¡¯re making mistakes already.¡±

    ¡°Torbek then, I am sorry,¡± Elion carried on undaunted, still jiggling slightly. Idly, Bill wondered if he needed the toilet. ¡°So. Elion and Callania the elves, Nalyn and Torbek the dwarves, Sestra the halfling, and you must be¡­ Lorien the Luminescent.¡± Elion threw himself into an elaborate scraping bow, completely without irony¡ªwhich made it all the worse when Torbek and Sestra burst out laughing.

    ¡°Lorien the¡­¡± Torbek chortled.

    ¡°Luminescent?¡± Sestra finished, wiping tears from her eyes. ¡°What does that even mean?¡±

    ¡°Lorien¡¯s an elf¡¯s name, isn¡¯t it?¡± Torbek queried. ¡°What are you, a human, doing with an elf¡¯s name?¡±

    ¡°Bet he picked it out himself,¡± Sestra said. ¡°What¡¯s your real name then?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s Lorien, the¡­¡± Bill began, but was shouted down by Torbek and Sestra immediately.

    ¡°Nah, what¡¯s your real name? Not your poncey wizard name, which is crap, by the way.¡±

    Bill scowled, feeling his face turn red. He shoved his hands in his pockets and kicked at the ground. ¡°Bill, if you must know.¡±

    Torbek and Sestra had just about had a punch up not twelve hours ago, and now they were teaming up to make fun of them? How was that fair? At least Nalyn and Callania weren¡¯t laughing. Or at least, they were stifling their chuckles and hiding their smiles.

    ¡°I thought it was a brilliant name,¡± Elion frowned, stopping still for once. ¡°Because he¡¯s a wizard, isn¡¯t he? So it¡¯s a wizard¡¯s name.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a prat¡¯s name,¡± Sestra said, smirking. ¡°But then I suppose it fits, because he¡¯s a bit of a prat, ain¡¯t he?¡±

    Their laughter was cut off by the arrival of a new figure in their midst. He¡¯d come down the front steps of the mansion, from the heavy marble front door which the little party now realized was open. They stood straighter and fell silent, even Sestra.

    ¡°Mr. the Collector,¡± Elion began.

    ¡°I am not the Collector,¡± the man cut him off. ¡°I am but a servant. You will follow me please, and do so quickly and quietly. Leave your things here.¡±

    As one, the six adventurers fell into single file and followed the man¡ªwho, Bill thought to himself, still hadn¡¯t introduced himself¡ªup the stairs and into the mansion.

 3: Bill

    The Collector¡¯s house was like nothing Bill had seen before. His feet sank into the rich, luxuriant carpet covering the floors, and he began to wish he¡¯d taken his boots off before coming inside. On stands, dotted here and there, were various vases, ornaments, and other things that he could only imagine were worth more than his entire house and its contents. He gave those a wide berth. He could just imagine how happy the Collector would be if he knocked one over.

    And the size of the house! The entrance hall went on, and on, broken only by the different bright and beautiful paintings and the servant¡¯s hissed instructions. ¡°Do not speak unless spoken to. Do not look the Collector in the eye. Do not make any undue noise or sudden movements. Above all, do not touch anything.¡± But after about three days of walking, or so Bill reckoned, they halted at a large, ornate door to a room somewhere deep inside the house.

    The servant opened the door and they walked inside the room. Bill had thought the entrance hall had been a sight to see, but now he realized he hadn¡¯t seen anything yet. The carpet in this room was even thicker, and colored a bright shade of blue that Bill hadn¡¯t ever seen before. He half crouched, wanting to feel if it was as soft as it looked, then remembered that he¡¯d been told not to touch anything.

    Instead he gazed around himself in awe. One painting in particular took his breath away. It was one he¡¯d seen in a book at college, which was the only reason he knew that it was worth more than his whole neighborhood put together. It depicted the final battle of the One War. The armies of Naesala Liavaris, first queen of Nimrien, had suffered many losses but ultimately won the war, and the painting showed her ascending the throne for the first time. Bill vaguely remembered that it had been painted right after the war¡­ so the painting was about eight hundred years old, and the most priceless thing he¡¯d ever shared a room with.

    The party gathered in a semi-circle in front of an ornate wooden desk that was big enough Sestra could barely see over it. The legs were carved with all kinds of fruits and flowers. Bill had expected a little old man, about the same age as the painting he had marveled at, but at the desk sat a man who couldn¡¯t have been more than thirty. The desk itself was littered with papers and books, and at least half a dozen instruments whose function Bill could only guess at.

    The Collector¡¯s eyes were bright and intelligent as he examined the six of them. Bill¡¯s back straightened involuntarily. Beside him, he could hear Sestra pulling in a breath as if to make some sort of smart remark, and he kicked her ankle sharply in warning.

    ¡°Good morning,¡± the man said in a brisk, no-nonsense voice. ¡°I am the Collector. I trust you all know why I have called you here.¡± He paused here as a little messenger creature entered the room with a scroll clutched in his hand. The Collector took the scroll, unfurled and read it, then put it on top of one of the piles.

    Bill began to nod, then stopped, looking around at the others. He didn¡¯t know, not really, and by the looks on their faces, neither did they.

    ¡°I am a man who prides himself on owning nice things. Precious things. Things that no one else possesses. Obviously,¡± and here he paused for a dry little chuckle, ¡°I am far too busy to seek out these things myself.¡±

    That much was apparent, Bill thought. He leaned forward slightly, sure that the Collector must be about ready to get to his point.

    ¡°Therefore you will be my eyes, my ears, and yes, my arms and legs,¡± he went on. ¡°You will quest in my stead, and seek out that which I do not have time to seek out myself. You see, it has come to my attention that a certain priceless artifact has surfaced, somewhere in our fair land. Just where it is, no one can say for sure. I have had various reports, none of them particularly promising. I can give you nothing but the vaguest of directions. They will have to suffice.¡±

    This was more like it. But what was this thing, this artifact that they were to seek out? Bill ached to speak up and ask, but knew he had better not. He glanced at the others, trying to read their faces. Only Torbek seemed to feel as impatient as he, Bill, did.

    ¡°You may be wondering what the artifact is,¡± the Collector chuckled.

    ¡°No, not at all,¡± Sestra breathed almost inaudibly. Bill kicked her again for good measure.

    ¡°It is a grimoire,¡± the Collector managed before Bill sneezed, scattering the nearest stack of papers. The adventurers were forced to wait for some minutes as the Collector, with the help of the namesless servant, gathered them up and put them back in order. ¡°A grimoire,¡± he continued. ¡°Very old and priceless. It dates back before recorded history, before the One War, before the people of Nimrien existed as anything other than a series of disconnected tribes. Long before any of us were here. It is said to have been written by the goddesses themselves: Ymna of the Air; Hevla of the Fire, Ehrena of the Water, and Ophina of the Earth.¡±

    Torbek¡¯s chest puffed out a little at the mention of his beloved Ophina. The goddess of earth, Bill knew she was beloved by most dwarves, though those that dwelt Below tended to be more devout than those that lived Above.

    Vaguely, he wondered why Ziona didn¡¯t warrant a mention¡ªbut then, Ziona, goddess of destruction, was often excluded from matters that involved her sisters.

    The ¡°vaguest of directions¡± that the Collector had to give them as guidance, turned out to be the news that the grimoire was in a tower somewhere. Somewhere, in a tower, somewhere in Nimrien. Well, that wasn¡¯t going to be an impossible task at all! There were dozens of towers dotted all over the world, and that wasn¡¯t even counting the houses that had towers of their own. Where in Nimrien were they even supposed to start?

    ¡°Please, sir, have you a map?¡± Nalyn ventured.

    ¡°Not one that I am willing to give you, based on Bill¡¯s little mishap. The only maps I have are hugely detailed and extremely expensive, and I would not be comfortable lending one to you only for it to be torn or otherwise damaged. Or worse, lost.¡±

    ¡°Nice one, Bill. Now how are we supposed to find the thing?¡± Sestra hissed. This time, instead of kicking her, Bill scowled. It was a sneeze! It could have happened to anyone! He bet she wouldn¡¯t have said that if it had been Torbek who sneezed.

    ¡°I am sure that a band of resourceful adventurers such as yourself will have no trouble in obtaining a map,¡± the Collector nodded. ¡°But alas, the time for talking is over. I must returned to my work.¡± With that, he turned his chair to look out the window. They had been dismissed.

    There seemed little more to say. Certainly, the Collector said no more on the matter. They were ushered out of the room by the nameless man, and presented with bags containing travel rations and other various useful items, including a little money each. Before Bill could even catch his breath, they were back out on the street clutching their provisions and wondering where on earth to begin.

    Then he felt a yank on the hem of his shirt and stumbled, only for Sestra to grab a handful of his hair, keeping him bent over so she could hold a dagger at his neck.

    ¡°You ever kick me again, it¡¯ll be the last thing you do. You get me?¡± she hissed. Foolishly, Bill made as if to nod, then changed his mind at the feeling of the cool iron of the dagger beginning to bite into his neck.

    ¡°I get you, I get you!¡± he yelped, and Sestra let him go, wiping her blade thoroughly on her own grubby shirt before secreting it somewhere about her person. Bill clutched at his throat gingerly, giving her a wounded look.

    ¡°So where to from here?¡± Nalyn wondered. ¡°He didn¡¯t exactly give us much to go on.¡±

    ¡°He gave us exactly nothing to go on,¡± Torbek grumbled.

    ¡°The only reason he wouldn¡¯t trust us with one of his maps is because this prat knocked over his papers,¡± Sestra accused.

    ¡°It was an accident!¡± Bill retorted. ¡°Everybody sneezes!¡±

    ¡°Most people manage to turn their heads, not sneeze all over important stuff like fools!¡±

    Elion raised his hand¡ªactually raised his hand, like an elfling in a schoolroom. ¡°I¡¯ve heard about a Seer, not too far from here?¡± he ventured, more of a question than a suggestion.

    ¡°Ain¡¯t never heard of a Seer,¡± Sestra said. ¡°And I¡¯ve lived here all me life.¡±

    ¡°I have too,¡± Bill said. ¡°Lived here, I mean. Never heard of one.¡±

    ¡°Because you¡¯re such a font of knowledge and wisdom,¡± Sestra said, attention back on mocking Bill for no good reason that he could see. ¡°Lorien the Loser.¡±

    ¡°Where is this Seer?¡± Callania interjected.

    ¡°Uh, in Meery Wood?¡± Elion said, after a pause to think. ¡°Is that a place?¡±

    ¡°I dunno about Meery Wood, but there¡¯s a Merthy Wood,¡± Sestra said. ¡°And it¡¯s not all that far. About a day¡¯s walk.¡±Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

    ¡°Then that¡¯s where we¡¯ll go,¡± Nalyn said, deciding for the six of them.

    <hr>

    Marching was boring.

    Bill was resisting the urge to ask ¡°are we there yet¡±, but barely. It was only the thought of how Torbek would respond that kept the words down.

    Callania and Nalyn were bonding over something, probably something girly. Maybe hair. They both had quite long hair, and both of them seemed to take much more care over it than Sestra did.

    Sestra was amusing herself by teasing Torbek, dancing around him as he trudged down the road. She was so much smaller and lighter than he was, with her slight frame and lightweight armor, as compared to his much sturdier form and iron armor. She seemed to find it endlessly amusing that she could dance circles around him.

    And Elion was chattering away beside Bill, telling his life story, in long, excruciating detail. Bill would have told him to stop, except that if he did, there¡¯d be no one else to talk to, and then marching would get even more boring. As it was, he wasn¡¯t sure how much longer he could walk. He was already trailing a little way behind the others, despite the fact that he was walking as hard as he could.

    ¡°So you¡¯re from Befalls,¡± he cut in finally, citing the only piece of information he¡¯d been paying attention long enough to hear. ¡°What brought you all the way to Lerastir, then?¡±

    Elion looked momentarily hurt, and Bill realized that he must have already told this part of the story. Still, it seemed like the little elf was fairly irrepressible, and his pout didn¡¯t last long.

    ¡°Befalls is just so little,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s little, and it¡¯s pretty, but it¡¯s a total magnet for tourists, which kind of takes the shine off the place when you grow up there. And okay, so you lot have got Lerastir in the west, as your big hub or marketplace or whatever. In the east, there¡¯s nothing but Ondegland, and that¡¯s¡­ well, it¡¯s a pretty poor imitation. I wanted to see the world, and the world passes through Lerastir pretty often, or so the stories go.¡±

    ¡°And how¡¯d you get here?¡±

    ¡°Walked, mostly. Caught a ride on a cart here and there, but mostly walked. I left when I was fairly young, though. Straight out of barding college.¡±

    Bill stiffened. He had been thinking that Elion was the youngest member of the party, based on the way he babbled and the way he couldn¡¯t seem to stand still, but evidently this was not the case. He¡¯d finished school and had adventures of his own before this quest even began.

    ¡°I knew I was never going to be much of a bard,¡± Elion went on, holding up his rather battered lute ruefully. ¡°I mean, I do my best, always have, but I just don¡¯t think I¡¯m cut out for it. Mum says I¡¯ve a voice like two wounded cats fighting over fish guts in a burlap sack bobbing down a river, and the spells I¡¯m supposed to be able to do don¡¯t amount to much. Still, I passed the theory, didn¡¯t I?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m a fully-fledged wizard,¡± Bill offered. ¡°I graduated a few days ago. I turned in all my assignments and sat through my final exams, and there you have it.¡± And if he¡¯d only just scraped by in those exams, and barely earned passing marks in several of those assignments, that was neither here nor there. A pass was a pass.

    ¡°Do you have a weapon?¡± Elion went on undaunted. ¡°I¡¯ve seen Torbek¡¯s got a sword, and Callania has a bow and arrows. Sestra¡¯s got a dagger¡­ maybe two, I¡¯m not sure. I¡¯ve got my lute, for what it¡¯s worth. And Nalyn, wow! She has this battle axe¡­ I don¡¯t know how she can fight with it! She let me try to lift it and I couldn¡¯t, not even with two hands!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve got my wand,¡± Bill said, trying to make it sound grander than it really was. To be perfectly honest, he was wondering what on earth had possessed the Collector to summon such a flighty, chatty, seemingly hopeless elf to join them. All the others made sense. He, Bill, made sense! But Elion¡­

    ¡°Can you cast spells?¡±

    ¡°¡­Some,¡± Bill hedged. His mother¡¯s words about the tea echoed in his mind, and he shook his head rapidly as if to shake them out. ¡°I didn¡¯t bring any spell books with me, so I¡¯m working with what I keep up here.¡± He tapped his head, then leaned closer to Elion.

    ¡°Do you think this place is far away?¡± he asked quietly. It was as close to ¡°are we there yet¡± as he was willing to get.

    ¡°Dunno,¡± Elion said cheerfully. ¡°I¡¯m just enjoying the walk. I¡¯ve been walking in a hundred different places in my life, and this is right up there. Flat, and leafy, and green. It¡¯s beautiful here.¡±

    Bill supposed he could sort of see that¡­ but the ache in his legs and the blister rapidly forming on his right heel made it hard to truly appreciate the walk.

    Four hours later, which was actually more like forty minutes later, the little party entered Merthy Wood. The road that had led them here had been leafy and green, but this was something else. It was Bill¡¯s first time out of Lerastir, and he gazed around in wonder. Sestra, he noted, was similarly awestruck.

    ¡°I never saw so many trees,¡± she said, standing with her head tipped back to try to see the tops of them. She couldn¡¯t¡ªneither could Bill, if he was honest. They were just too tall.

    ¡°So where¡¯s this Seer of yours?¡± Torbek wanted to know.

    ¡°He lives in the wood, not on the outskirts,¡± Elion said patiently. ¡°Or so the stories go. So it stands to reason that we¡¯re not going to find him standing out here waiting to greet us. We¡¯ll have to go in and look for him.¡±

    ¡°So we¡¯re all on the same page?¡± Bill asked, but the rest of the party were already moving beyond the tree line, and he had to scurry to catch them up. ¡°Hey, wait for me!¡±

    <hr>

    Bill had thought they¡¯d get a break from walking when they reached the wood, but it wasn¡¯t to be. They kept walking, down the overgrown path right into the darkest clusters of trees. Merthy Wood looked to be almost as big as Lerastir was. His heel throbbed and he longed to take his boots off, even for just a minute.

    ¡°Well, this is pretty much the middle of the wood, isn¡¯t it?¡± Elion said. ¡°So, if the stories are right, he¡¯ll be around here somewhere.¡±

    ¡°And if the stories are wrong, we¡¯ve just wasted the better part of a day on a wild goose chase,¡± Torbek said ominously, but no one paid him any mind.

    They hunted here and there, high and low, thither and yon, looking for any sort of nook or cranny where a Seer could conceivably live.

    ¡°This is beginning to look hopeless,¡± Callania said. Bill loved the way she talked, so regal and calm and cultured. It was like she lingered over every consonant, making sure each one was formed properly before it left her mouth. Even when she was disappointed, like she was right now, she still managed to sound so classy. ¡°We have been looking for a good half an hour, and the sun is beginning to set. Elion, I think you must have misunderstood the stories you heard.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, man, like, what are we even looking for? Been searching under all these rocks and leaves and haven¡¯t found anything yet. Maybe we need to, like, regroup. Have a break.¡±

    The voice came from a man, a human, with long dirty blond hair and a shirt so full of holes and stains it was hard to tell what color it had originally been. His trousers were held up by a length of twine, knotted at the front and at the back, and his feet were bare. He was, obviously, not one of their party.

    ¡°So like, you wanna tell me what we¡¯re looking for? Or is it one of those deals where like, the search is the point, and it¡¯s all about the journey, man, and everything is super existential and nebulous, woo.¡±

    Six pairs of eyes gaped at this little speech.

    ¡°Pardon me, but who are you?¡± Nalyn asked the stranger. Polite, Bill thought. Where Callania sounded like culture and class, Nalyn sounded like good manners and etiquette. Like all the stuff Mum was always trying to drum into him, but which he could never remember when it was relevant.

    ¡°Oh man, names are so like, establishment. Death to the matriarchy, you know? I don¡¯t, like, subscribe to the antiquated notion of having some arbitrary assemblage of sounds represent me.¡±

    At their continued baffled silence, the man shook his hair back over his shoulders. ¡°Or, like, you can call me Roger? If you need to call me something.¡±

    ¡­Right.

    ¡°How did you come to be here, Roger?¡± Callania asked.

    ¡°I was like, gathering berries and flowers, man, and I heard you all searching, so I came out to help you. Assist your fellow man, am I right? But then, like, I didn¡¯t know what you were looking for, and then you all wanted to know my name, and then it was now.¡±

    ¡°This guy is seriously two slices short of a loaf,¡± Sestra muttered under her breath, and it was only the memory of the dagger at his throat that kept Bill from kicking her again.

    ¡°Yes, but who are you?¡± Torbek demanded. ¡°Are you another traveler? Because we¡¯ve business to attend to, and very little time for niceties.¡±

    ¡°Like, I¡¯m Roger, man,¡± Roger repeated.

    Torbek¡¯s face went a particular shade of red mirrored in several of the stains on Roger¡¯s shirt.

    ¡°We¡¯re looking for the home of the Seer,¡± Nalyn supplied.

    ¡°Oh, wow. Like, I¡¯m the Seer,¡± Roger exclaimed with a wide, toothless grin.

    ¡°You?¡± Sestra scoffed.

    ¡°Me!¡± Roger confirmed, pointing to himself with two thumbs. ¡°I¡¯m, like, totally the Seer!¡±

    <hr>

    Over a dinner of tomatoes and herbs with goat cheese on bread fried over the fire, the party managed to get a little more sense out of Roger. A little.

    As far as Bill could tell, seeking him out had been a complete waste of time. As soon as dinner was over, Roger pulled out a pipe, shoved in some dried petals from a flower Bill didn¡¯t recognize, and lit it. A sickly sweet smoke began to rise from it, and Roger breathed it in deeply, his pupils widening immensely.

    ¡°This man is a complete wastrel,¡± Torbek complained. ¡°We have squandered a day trudging through the woods in search of a drug abusing layabout.¡±

    ¡°Hey man, uh, the grimoire like, lies in the center,¡± Roger broke in, turning to Callania. She looked over at him, then gasped, horrified, which made Bill look over¡ªand Roger¡¯s eyes were no longer muddy brown with abnormally enlarged pupils. Roger¡¯s eyes were black.

    His face, however, remained unconcerned, relaxed, and even slightly vacant.

    ¡°How does he know we¡¯re looking for a grimoire?¡± Elion whispered.

    ¡°How can he breathe with all that smoke?¡± Sestra whispered back, waving a hand in front of her face to waft away the thick pink smoke.

    ¡°Like, not east, not west. Not north, not south. Man, the grimoire lies in the center, wow.¡± Roger continued to speak as if talking about the weather, not even noticing that Callania and Nalyn couldn¡¯t meet his creepy black eyes. ¡°And it has totally, like, moved.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s in a tower, isn¡¯t it?¡± Bill ventured.

    ¡°Nah. That guy steered you wrong. But, like, it¡¯s not his fault? His information was like, totally bogus, man.¡±

    Bill considered this. ¡°So¡­ it¡¯s somewhere in the middle of Nimrien. But it¡¯s not in a tower?¡±

    ¡°Oh, man, wow. Nimrien. Nimrien is so great, like, you know?¡±

    Torbek stomped his foot. Bill guessed he¡¯d lost his patience with this wishy-washy non-information. ¡°Listen here you drug-addled sluggard, give us a straight answer before I feed you the steel of my blade!¡±

    Roger turned his empty eyes in Torbek¡¯s direction. ¡°Uncool, friend. You¡¯re like, totally harshing my mellow. Breathe in the smoke, and like, relax your mind. Feel the calming feelings of the calming, uh, flower.¡±

    Getting to his feet, Torbek made it as far as unsheathing his sword before Nalyn tugged him back down, giving him a stern look.

    ¡°Roger,¡± she attempted. ¡°Where is the grimoire?¡±

    ¡°Whoa, there¡¯s a grimoire?¡± Roger sat up straight, his expression morphing into something approaching thrilled excitement, though his eyes remained black and empty.

    ¡°Yes, the grimoire,¡± Callania joined in. ¡°Where is the grimoire, Roger?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s in the center, man,¡± Roger said vaguely slumping back down.

    ¡°It¡¯s like, totally in the dark,¡± Roger said earnestly. ¡°In the dark, and it¡¯s in the¡­¡±

    ¡°Center,¡± chorused Bill, Sestra and Callania.

    ¡°What¡¯s in the center?¡± Roger asked with great interest, his pupils beginning to recede. ¡°Chocolate?¡±

    ¡°It, uh, doesn¡¯t matter, Roger,¡± Nalyn said gently. ¡°Thank you very much for your hospitality, but we must be on our way.¡±

    ¡°Oh man, really? So soon? Wow, harsh.¡± But somehow, Roger didn¡¯t seem all that very concerned.

    The party backed away slowly, leaving Roger to his thick pink smoke.

 4: Elion

    ¡°We should go east! The center of Nimrien is due east of here!¡± Nalyn declared, squaring off toe to toe with Torbek.

    ¡°No, we should go north! We don¡¯t know where to even begin looking for this thing, except that the Collector said that it was in a tower, and it makes sense to start at the tower as far to the northwest as possible and work systematically through Nimrien!¡± Torbek roared.

    ¡°We do know where to start looking! Roger said to go east, and that it wasn¡¯t in a tower anymore!¡±

    ¡°Roger didn¡¯t know his rear end from his elbow, his mind was so addled with the smoke!¡±

    ¡°He knew we were looking for a grimoire, before any of us even said it to him!¡±

    ¡°He was a smelly, drugged up loser who made a lucky guess! If this grimoire is as valuable as the Collector says it is, it¡¯s hardly impossible that even Roger could have heard about it!¡± Torbek stamped his foot, as if to emphasise his point, and Elion flinched.

    ¡°East!¡± insisted Nalyn.

    ¡°North!¡± Torbek bellowed.

    ¡°EAST!¡±

    ¡°NORTH!¡±

    ¡°Enough!¡± Sestra got between the warring dwarves and pressed a hand to each of their breastplates. ¡°You¡¯re both right. But one of you has got to be a bit more right than the other, so let¡¯s talk about this like rational beings!¡±

    ¡°Rational beings?¡± Bill scoffed loudly. ¡°That¡¯s bloody rich, coming from you! You mouthed off to the most important person in our lives at the moment, potentially jeopardizing all of our wellbeing, and when I took the time to point it out, you held a knife to my throat!¡±

    It seemed to Elion that all the diplomacy Sestra possessed had been used up on breaking up the fight between Nalyn and Torbek. He watched as she rounded on Bill, fury written so clearly across her face that even he could read it.

    ¡°Because you kicked me!¡± she shrieked, yanking the dagger from her belt and advancing on him.

    ¡°This is just not going well. Not going well at all,¡± Elion murmured to himself, watching the scene with wide eyes. Callania, by his side, nodded.

    ¡°This is the reality of the situation,¡± she said in her calm, deliberate way. ¡°It will take us several days at most to travel to the center of Nimrien¡­ and several weeks, if not months, to start at the northernmost tower and work our way systematically through the land. In light of these facts, does it not make the most sense to quickly ascertain if Roger was right or not? If he is, we will have saved a lot of time. If he is not, we have lost nothing, for we would have had to search there eventually anyway.¡±

    It was the most that Elion had yet heard Callania say in one go. So far, she had been more of a ¡°watch and take everything in¡± sort of person.

    ¡°I thought Roger was pretty convincing,¡± he chimed in. ¡°And I think Callania¡¯s plan makes a lot of sense.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m all for anything that means we get this fool¡¯s errand over with as soon as possible,¡± Sestra grumbled. ¡°I¡¯m for going east.¡±

    ¡°Well¡­ if it IS there, can we still travel around a bit afterwards?¡± Bill said, his voice timid. ¡°My mum didn¡¯t want to let me come in the first place. I want to travel around as much as I can before I have to go home.¡±

    ¡°I must confess, I would like to see more of Nimrien before returning to Hallinet,¡± Callania said. ¡°And another advantage of heading east, is that takes us through the Six Seas. It is my home, and my family will welcome us and give us a place to stay if we wish.¡±

    ¡°Once the quest is over, those who want to stay together and keep traveling could do so, and those who want to go home, could do that,¡± Nalyn acquiesced.

    ¡°Oh fine!¡± Torbek rumbled. ¡°I¡¯ll follow you east if I must.¡±

    That was easy, Elion thought. Too easy¡­

    ¡°But when we inevitably find out I was right all along, I reserve the right to tell you all I told you so, ¡± Torbek went on.

    Ah. There it was.

    <hr>

    Night was falling rapidly, between their long walk and their odd little interlude with Roger. As part of their equipment, each of them had been given a one-man tent and they pitched them in a clearing around a central campfire. That is to say, Bill attempted to pitch his, failed miserably, and got shown up dreadfully by Callania coming along and doing it for him. But here they were.

    ¡°Should we have some sort of a watch tonight?¡± Elion asked.

    ¡°I¡¯ll take the first watch,¡± Sestra piped up, narrowly beating Torbek, who glared at her. ¡°I don¡¯t mind staying up a bit later if it means I don¡¯t have to wake up again until morning. I ain¡¯t stupid.¡±

    The rest of them divided up the night watch slots and settled down to sleep, while Sestra sat by the campfire, dagger across her lap, waiting.

    Elion had claimed the third watch, and he rubbed his eyes roughly to try to wake himself up when Torbek came to shake him awake. Being on watch for the party, he thought, was a big responsibility, and he sat rigid by the fire, clutching his lute, hardly daring to breathe as he looked all around them. When his watch was over he woke Bill, who yawned and took his place by the fire as Elion crawled back into his tent.

    <hr>

    The wolves that lived in the wood had smelled the fire and had been prowling around the outskirts of the clearing for most of the night.

    Perhaps ordinary wolves wouldn¡¯t have been able to tell the difference between someone keeping watch awake, and that someone having fallen asleep. These wolves could. These wolves saw the exact moment when Bill¡¯s eyes slipped closed. These wolves, intelligence slightly enhanced by the magic humming in the very fabric of Nimrien, watched him slip deeper into slumber, and waited for their moment.

    When Bill¡¯s chin slipped out of his hand and he jolted awake, they waited. When he slid off the log on which he was sitting, and settled himself on the ground in front of it, they waited. And when his eyes fluttered shut the final time, they made their move.

    <hr>

    Elion tossed and turned, punching his makeshift pillow and wriggling under his thin blanket. To him, Bill seemed like a nice guy, if a little full of himself, but there was something about him that just didn¡¯t scream ¡°reliable¡±. Elion left his tent flaps open.

    At a particularly loud rustle he sat up, eyes scanning the clearing¡­ and Bill lay curled up asleep on the ground. Elion¡¯s eyebrows furrowed. This wasn¡¯t a joke! Their safety lay in the balance! He tossed off his blanket, but before he could stand, a movement tickled the edge of his consciousness.

    Directly across the fire from where he had pitched his tent, four hulking, shaggy beasts stood slavering at the edge of the clearing. Their big yellow eyes glinted in the firelight. Elion estimated each of them to be at least as big as he was, and one of them even bigger.

    He paled, his heart leaping up into his throat. He grabbed for his lute, but paused: any song he might play, any spell he might try to cast, would only draw attention to himself...

    There was a distinct chance it would fail anyway.

    What to do, what to do? He could crawl over into the next tent and wake Torbek¡­ but would Torbek object to being woken? Probably not for such a good reason as wolves slipping into the clearing where the party was sleeping¡­ but maybe he could wake Nalyn instead? But she was on the other side of the clearing, beyond the fire, and he¡¯d have to crawl an awfully long way to get to her. He¡¯d almost certainly attract the attention of the wolves.

    Callania¡¯s tent was beside Nalyn¡¯s, putting her equally out of reach. And Bill was central, but illuminated by the fire¡¯s light, so if Elion approached him, however quietly and slowly, he would be illuminated too.

    All of this thinking was done in the briefest of moments, and all the while the wolves inched closer, nosing curiously at their luggage, piled behind the tents. He made a decision finally, slipped out under the side of his tent and rolled quickly under the side of Sestra¡¯s, dragging his lute behind him.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    Sestra was awake in an instant, her dagger drawn and at Elion¡¯s throat before he had a chance to tell her what he was doing there. ¡°You get any funny ideas, elf boy, and I¡¯ll gut you like a fish,¡± she snarled.

    ¡°W¡­w¡­¡± Elion stammered in a hoarse whisper.

    ¡°Sp¡­sp¡­spit it out!¡± she demanded, her tone mocking.

    ¡°Wolves!¡±

    He sat rigid as Sestra looked out the front flap of her tent, obviously spotting the very real threat. She removed the dagger from Elion¡¯s throat and sheathed it.

    ¡°I¡¯m going out there,¡± she said.

    ¡°You can¡¯t!¡± Elion was horrified. ¡°They¡¯ll eat you. You¡¯re so little!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m little, and I¡¯m sneaky. I can get to Axe Girl and Elf Lady before they notice me, I bet you a shiny gold sogara.¡±

    ¡°I haven¡¯t got a sogara.¡±

    ¡°You can pay me after the Collector pays us.¡± Sestra stole out of the tent silently without waiting for Elion¡¯s approval.

    There didn¡¯t seem to be anything he could do but ready his lute. He didn¡¯t know what help he could possibly be, but if there was a chance, even a small one, he would be prepared. His eyes were wide and teary, terrified at the danger they were all in, but mostly horrified that Sestra was out there unprotected and alone, despite the fact that his throat was still a bit sore from where her dagger had rested. He risked a look out of the tent¡­

    She was almost there! She had been right, she had been stealthy, and quick. She inched her way around the clearing, keeping to the shadows and carefully out of the light cast by the fire, and she was mere yards from the spot where Callania and Nalyn had pitched their tents beside one another.

    One of the wolves, the biggest one, sniffed the air and looked around. Elion held his breath.

    Sestra had been spotted.

    Heart in his throat, he watched the tableau play out. Sestra threw him a cheeky grin and a wink as she kept going toward the far tents, completely oblivious to any danger. The wolves, all four of them having spotted her now, fell into a crouch and began to slink closer. Bill, snoring away like he was sawing logs for the fire, was now curled up on the ground, completely useless.

    The wolves were closer to Sestra than she was to Nalyn¡¯s tent and relative safety, and she didn¡¯t know they had seen her. She was actually walking backwards now, almost dancing, poking her tongue out and grinning at him.

    If he didn¡¯t do something, and quickly, the wolves were almost certainly going to reach Sestra, and eat her.

    Given how small she was, it was highly unlikely they would stop there. Screwing his eyes tightly shut, Elion took a deep breath and burst from the tent, strumming his lute rapidly and singing at the top of his lungs.

    ¡°OH NIMRIEN, SWEET NIMRIEN, WE LIVE OUR LIVES FOR THEE!¡±

    He risked a peek. The wolves¡¯ heads jolted upwards and they refocused on him. He saw Sestra freeze, her grin falling as she mouthed something furious at his idiocy. He saw Bill jolt awake, clapping his hands over his ears.

    ¡°Elion, what the¡­¡± And he knew if he kept looking, he¡¯d lose his nerve, so he scrunched up his face again and kept going.

    ¡°FROM PABURH TOWN TO ABEN WOODS, YOU¡¯RE ALWAYS HOME TO ME!¡±

    If he just kept singing, if he just kept the attention on himself, then Sestra could get to the tents and let Nalyn know what was up. Added bonus: Nalyn was sure to be awake already thanks to the sheer volume of his singing. Unexpected downside: the wolves had stopped stalking Sestra, and were now padding in his direction, a hungry look in their eyes. The biggest one even licked his face as if in anticipation of a meal, and Elion¡¯s desperate strumming faltered for just a moment.

    ¡°What the bloody hell is all the commotion?¡± Torbek did not sound pleased.

    ¡°WHEN WOLVES APPROACH, WE CANNOT RUN, THE SKY TOO DARK TO SEE,¡± Elion wailed on. His mother¡¯s assessment of his voice had not been far from the truth: he really was dreadful. But he could apologize when they got through this alive, right?

    He risked another peek. Torbek didn¡¯t appear to be listening to the hastily improvised lyrics. He stormed over to Elion and made as if to grab the lute and quite possibly smash it, but it was beginning to glow sky blue. Elion sucked in a relieved breath when he spied the glow. Well, his spell was working, in a manner of speaking. It was supposed to be a luck spell, to bring luck to the party. It was the only thing he could think of that might help¡ªthat and the distraction factor of screaming out a song at the top of his lungs.

    ¡°Will you stop that infernal caterwauling?¡± Torbek snapped.

    ¡°THE ONLY WAY TO SAVE OURSELVES, IS CLIMBING UP A TREE!¡±

    Now Elion opened his eyes fully, meeting Torbek¡¯s glare with his own attempt at a meaningful gaze, nodding toward the wolves. And now, Torbek¡¯s eyes widened as he saw the danger¡ªand how close the danger had been to Sestra, who was just slipping under the side of Nalyn¡¯s tent¡ªand how close the danger now was to the two of them.

    With a loud grunt of effort, Elion sent the blue glow from his lute into the air, where it seemed to sort of ¡°pop¡± and rain gently down on the six of them. Sestra made it into Nalyn¡¯s tent, and seconds later the two of them came tumbling out of its front flaps, ready for battle.

    Torbek charged, and Elion did as his ad hoc song had suggested, hastily abandoning his lute and scrambling up a tree just as the wolves leaped for him. With one mighty swipe of his sword, Torbek cleaved one of them in two. The rest might have run at that. Ordinary wolves may well have run at the sound of Elion¡¯s terrible singing. But these wolves, imbued with Nimrien¡¯s magic, simply got angry.

    Nalyn¡¯s battle axe took the head off a second wolf, and Callania, emerging from her tent, quickly grabbed for her bow and notched an arrow. Bill rose, holding his hands up.

    ¡±Wait! I¡¯m a wizard, I¡¯ll just¡­¡± He pulled out his wand started chanting in rapid Ehvari, language of the elves, waggling his wand here and there. Elion cringed at his dreadful accent, but light, a pale buttermilk color, rose from Bill¡¯s wand, and he threw it upwards as he stumbled over the last words.

    ¡°No!¡± Elion cried in horror. He didn¡¯t know what Bill had actually been going for, but he knew what Bill had said, and it didn¡¯t bode well. He buried his face under his arm just in time.

    An intense, blinding light filled the clearing, rendering it as light as day¡ªlighter, even. Torbek and Nalyn, who had both been watching the wolves, eyes unblinking, stumbled and fell to their knees, clutching their faces.

    ¡°I¡¯m blinded!¡± Torbek cried.

    Callania fired. Her arrow went wide, ripping through Nalyn¡¯s tent and embedding itself in a tree, nowhere near any wolves. Sestra ran up to the biggest wolf. It was so big, in fact, that it towered over her, but instead of cowering back, she used it to her advantage, thrusting her dagger in its chest, running toward its tail and dragging the dagger so that the wolf was gutted. It died almost instantly.

    Only one wolf remained. But Torbek couldn¡¯t see, and neither could Nalyn, both of them blinking rapidly to try to get their sight back after the explosion of light Bill had cast. Sestra struggled to free her dagger, and herself, from the entrails of the dead wolf. Callania fumbled with another arrow.

    ¡°OH NIMRIEN, DEAR NIMRIEN,¡± Elion began again, but his lute lay on the ground below. Without it, there was no magic, just caterwauling as Torbek had so flatteringly put it.

    ¡°Enough with the magic!¡± Torbek yelled. ¡°Just let me¡­¡±

    He swung blindly, his sword slicing the nearest tree and getting firmly stuck. Callania fired another arrow, but missed again, only managing to nick the remaining wolf¡¯s ear, leaving it largely unharmed but exceedingly angry. It pounced at Callania.

    Bill threw himself on the ground, cowering.

    Callania cried out in fear, dropping her bow and covering her face and head with her hands.

    ¡°Callania!¡± Nalyn gasped, but Elion watched her hesitate, rubbing at her unseeing eyes again and brandishing her axe at nothing.

    There was no one left who could fight.

    No one, except Elion.

    He didn¡¯t stop to overthink it. He hurled himself out of the tree and hit the ground running. Grabbing his lute, he twanged out a few chords as he ran, hollering a half remembered nursery rhyme from his own childhood. It was supposed to be a pain spell¡ªthe words weren¡¯t as important as the chords, as the intent, or so they¡¯d kept on telling him. He threw the sickening green light from his lute at the remaining wolf¡¯s face.

    It howled in anguish, but Elion couldn¡¯t tell if it was because his spell had hit home or because of his terrible singing voice. It didn¡¯t matter. Either way, the wolf was again focused on him.

    Gasping for breath, Elion looked around frantically for a weapon. The only one in reach was Nalyn¡¯s axe¡ªNalyn¡¯s axe that he already knew he couldn¡¯t lift.

    ¡°Bill!¡± he called. ¡°Help me!¡±

    But Bill didn¡¯t move, unless you could call shaking in fear ¡°moving¡±.

    Seizing a stone, Elion threw it with all his might at the wolf, but it merely bounced off its head and gently landed on the ground. He backed away, grabbing anything he could reach and throwing it at the wolf. Any minute now, he knew, it would pounce and it would all be over. Well, at least he would die protecting the party.

    ¡°AYAYAYAYAY!¡± Sestra finally freed herself from the belly of the wolf she had killed and came running, jumping on the remaining wolf¡¯s back. As Elion watched it tensing to pounce at him, Sestra slit its throat in one swift motion.

    The wolf landed heavily on top of Elion, knocking him to the ground. He turned his face away from its teeth, but it didn¡¯t matter. The wolf was already dead.

    ¡°All right, elf boy?¡± Sestra asked, the light and cheeky tone of her voice contrasting with the worry written on her face.

    ¡°Get it off me!¡± Elion gasped.

    Nalyn, still blinking rapidly, rolled the wolf to one side as Elion scrambled out from underneath it.

    The five of them convened around the fire and Bill, who was peeking out from behind his hands. ¡°Is it over?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Who was on watch?¡± Nalyn asked dangerously.

    Bill raised his hand, looking sheepish.

    ¡°You had one job!¡± Sestra exploded, and the rest of the party looked similarly unamused. Elion had been slightly awestruck by having a real life wizard in their midst, but even he couldn¡¯t muster up much enthusiasm for Bill right now.

    ¡°Thank you, Elion,¡± Callania said, holding out her hand to shake his. ¡°You saved my life.¡±

    ¡°Ah, I didn¡¯t do much of anything,¡± he said awkwardly. ¡°It was Sestra who took care of the thing.¡±

    ¡°I cast light! It was dark, so I lightened up the clearing,¡± Bill said hurriedly.

    ¡°You blinded us,¡± Torbek growled. ¡°And nearly got us killed into the bargain. Whatever it was you thought you were doing, you bungled. Badly. And then when the chance to actually came up to be useful, you cowered by the fire like a babe in arms. What the Collector thought when he chose you, I cannot begin to fathom.¡±

    ¡°We should go back to bed.¡± Nalyn, ever the peacemaker, broke the silence after a long pause in which Bill seemed to fold in on himself.

    ¡°Do you want me to keep watch?¡± he asked.

    ¡°NO!¡± shouted everyone.

    ¡°I¡¯ll take over the watch,¡± Elion offered.

    ¡°Nay, elfling. Get some rest. You¡¯ve earned it,¡± Torbek rumbled.

    He raised a hefty hand to Elion, who flinched, thinking the dwarf was about to strike him for waking him with his singing. Instead, Torbek clapped him on the back heartily, then ruffled his hair.

    Elion froze, somewhere between shock and pride, and managed a weak grin as everyone shuffled back to their tents.

 5: Nalyn

    Things weren¡¯t any better in the morning.

    Or in the afternoon, as they trudged on down the path¡ªeast toward the shore, as had been agreed.

    ¡°The trouble is, he¡¯s trying too hard,¡± Nalyn confided in Callania, who nodded in agreement.

    ¡°But if you tell him that, he gets defensive,¡± Callania said.

    Nalyn risked a look over her shoulder to see if Bill could hear them. He was a good ten yards behind, plodding along steadily, with a sulky look on his face.

    ¡°Of course, he¡¯s not doing himself any favors by dawdling along at the back and pouting,¡± she sighed.

    ¡°Do you think I should go and talk to him?¡± Callania asked.

    ¡°Let him stew,¡± Nalyn smiled. ¡°A little bit of self-reflection never hurt anyone, and besides, I¡¯m far more interested in hearing about you. You were telling me about where you grew up?¡±

    ¡°Oh! Well, it is a tiny little nothing island in the middle of the Six Seas called Hallinet,¡± Callania said. ¡°I suppose it is closest to Laleah, if I had to guess, but no one really goes anywhere all that often. My parents, my whole tribe, were very big on being self sufficient.¡± She frowned. ¡°Actually, I think we were pretty sheltered. I do not think my parents have a particularly high opinion of¡­ well, anyone who is not an elf, really.¡±

    ¡°Do you have any brothers or sisters?¡±

    ¡°A sister. We are twins. We look exactly alike, but as people we could not be more different. You?¡±

    ¡°No siblings, though I often wished for some when I was growing up.¡± Nalyn halted as Torbek and Elion, who were leading the party, stopped short. ¡°What¡¯s happening now?¡±

    ¡°Path forks,¡± Elion said simply. ¡°Checking which way to go.¡±

    ¡°Pretty simple, I would have thought,¡± Bill said, coming up behind them. ¡°We need to go east, so turn east.¡±

    ¡°You know what else is simple?¡± Sestra put in. ¡°Staying awake while you¡¯re on watch. You know what else is simple? Probably that spell you tried to cast. So I¡¯m not all that sure you should be telling people what¡¯s simple and what isn¡¯t, right now.¡±

    That wasn¡¯t quite the way Nalyn would have phrased it, true though it might have been. She watched Bill crumple again.

    ¡°He is right this time, though,¡± Callania remarked. ¡°We need to head east, so it makes sense to take the right fork.¡±

    The other option was to head toward the mountains, topped with the twisted black glass shrine of Wulfila, as Bill pointed out. Nalyn looked up at it and shivered.

    ¡°When I was a child, we heard stories about Wulfila. We were told she eats children and decorates her shrine with their bones,¡± she said.

    ¡°We heard about her too,¡± Elion whimpered. ¡°We heard that before she eats them, she uses them as slaves, polishing the black glass windows.¡±

    ¡°I never had parents, and I¡¯m starting to think I was better off,¡± Sestra scoffed. ¡°All they do is tell you scary stories to make you behave, or tell you to get a job and make you cry. I bet Wulfila, whoever she is, is just a harmless old woman doing harmless things away up there.¡±

    At that moment, there was a flash of light from the tower, and all six of them glanced up in fear.

    ¡°Or not?¡± Sestra gulped.

    But no matter what Wulfila was or wasn¡¯t, they couldn¡¯t go any further in the dark. They pitched their tents in a tight little semi-circle around a small campfire.

    ¡°Right, let us decide on the watch,¡± Callania said.

    ¡°I can take the first watch,¡± Bill volunteered.

    ¡°No,¡± replied every other person in the party.

    ¡°We can¡¯t trust you,¡± Torbek pronounced. ¡°You had your chance last night and you let us down, badly.¡±

    ¡°Surely I should get a second chance!¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Elion, once the person who had been the most willing to give Bill the benefit of the doubt, was the one to shoot him down. ¡°You¡¯re talking about us giving you a second chance with our lives, Bill. Ourlives. We gave you a chance last night, and our lives were so unimportant to you¡­ you were so complacent about our safety, that you fell asleep in minutes. If I hadn¡¯t stayed awake¡­¡± He shuddered. ¡°I don¡¯t know what would have happened. But we can¡¯t take those kinds of chances, out here in the middle of nowhere. We¡¯re all we have, and we have to be sure that we make good choices. Trusting you to keep us safe, well, you already showed us that¡¯s not a good choice.¡±

    It was a long and sobering speech to come from the young and usually chipper elf, and though Bill pouted and scowled throughout it, when Elion was finished speaking, Torbek clapped him on the shoulder proudly.

    ¡°Well said, elfling.¡±

    In the end it was Nalyn who took the first watch. She sat on a log with one hand lightly on her axe, staring into the darkness until her watch was over, then woke Callania for the second watch, and stayed up to sit with her.

    The rest of the group, she could take or leave, but there was just something about Callania. Everything she said was so interesting. Everything she did was so graceful. Nalyn hadn¡¯t ever really thought about it before, but she could see herself being close to Callania long after this quest was over.

    ¡°You know what I think?¡± she said, after a long period of silence where they both simply sat and stared at the fire.

    ¡°Hmm?¡±

    ¡°I think you¡¯re interesting,¡±

    ¡°Me? You are the interesting one!¡± Callania exclaimed. ¡°I have never been friends with a dwarf before. And you are so good with your axe. I am¡­ rather useless with my bow.¡± She grinned and ran a hand through her long blonde hair, smoothing it back. ¡°I try, but I am not very good.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯re better than you think you are.¡±

    ¡°Look at the last skirmish! Both of my arrows went completely wide,¡± Callania pointed out.

    ¡°But Bill had just cast that light spell! You were blinded!¡±

    ¡°Nalyn¡­ I am an elf. I speak Ehvari,¡± Callania said quietly. ¡°I knew what Bill had done the moment he did it. I might not have dived to cover my face like Elion did, but I knew enough to look away. Those arrows went wide because I cannot shoot to save myself. I have never been able to shoot straight.¡±

    ¡°Well¡­ why are you a ranger then?¡±

    ¡°What else is there?¡±

    Nalyn goggled a bit at that, but quickly realized Callania wasn¡¯t being facetious. ¡°Being a wizard? A fighter? A cleric, a bard? A lawyer, a councilor? There are so many more options than just ranger, and many of them would mean you still get to quest.¡±

    ¡°Where I am from, that just is not how things happen. We are elves, and elves are rangers, and that is that.¡± Callania looked pensive. ¡°I have had a bow in my hand since I was old enough to walk¡ªbefore, even¡ªand yet I still cannot seem to coordinate myself long enough to shoot an arrow at the thing I mean to hit.¡±

    ¡°Well, I¡­ I won¡¯t tell the others,¡± Nalyn promised, but Callania just shrugged.

    ¡°I do not mind if they find out. The Collector chose me for a reason, and I am fairly certain that the reason was not my aim. The best I can do is keep my eyes peeled and my mind open, and I am sure the time will come when I understand why I am here with you.¡±

    Nalyn fell silent.

    ¡°My mother taught me to fight,¡± she offered at length. ¡°My father was¡­ I never met him. He died before I was born.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯d be proud, I think.¡±

    That was a new thought, and an unexpected one. All Nalyn could do was smile shyly at Callania, the gratitude somehow stuck in her throat, and reach out her hand. Callania reached out too, and laced their fingers together without a word.

    <hr>

    Even with Bill slowing them down, by noon the next day they were well on their way to Kachi, but night fell some time before they saw the lights of the little town ahead of them. They kept going, however, knowing that an inn was within their reach, and that it would undoubtedly be more comfortable than another night camping. Additionally, no one would need to be on watch.

    As they grew closer, Nalyn heard chattering coming from the jungle around them, but she couldn¡¯t make out where it was coming from. Sure, it was dark, but there didn¡¯t seem to even be any motion or indication where the chattering was coming from. She shivered, and walked a little closer to Callania. She was glad when they made it to Kachi.

    It really was a little nothing sort of town, set out in the middle of nowhere and consisting of little more than a few rundown cottages set around a central ¡°main street¡± with an inn, a general store, and a doctor¡¯s office. Nalyn sized it up immediately: you could get a meal and a room for the night, but unless you were particularly enamored of solitude and isolation, you would not want to spend longer than that here.

    The party headed directly for the inn for two reasons: first, that they were tired and road-weary, and wanted a place to put down their belongings and rest; second, that there was almost literally no other place to go.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    ¡°How long are we going to stay here, do you think?¡± Elion asked.

    ¡°Long enough to wash the dust from our feet, and no more, I¡¯d say,¡± Torbek told him, looking around at the others to see if they agreed. It was, perhaps, one of the first things they had agreed on as a party. Kachi was hardly anyone¡¯s idea of a top holiday destination.

    <hr>

    Two rooms, six evening meals, and eight hours later, the party were ready to move on. Before leaving Kachi though, they visited the village¡¯s sole store and replenished their supplies.

    ¡°Where are you good folk off to?¡± the shopkeeper asked as he packaged their purchases. Nalyn, having been wordlessly elected as spokesperson, answered for them. ¡°We are on a quest to find something.¡± It wouldn¡¯t do to give away too much, after all. They already had to split their earnings six ways. If someone got wind of what they were looking for and beat them to it? Then all of this would have been for nothing.

    The fact that Roger had known they were looking for the grimoire didn¡¯t really worry her. She had a feeling he wouldn¡¯t be leaving Merthy Wood any time soon, and even if he did, he¡¯d probably forget why he¡¯d left before he got more than an hour¡¯s march away.

    The morning sun felt good on Nalyn¡¯s skin, but once they plunged into the jungle, a thick canopy of leaves blocked most of the warmth. There was enough light to make out the path in front of them, and that was all.

    ¡°Do you hear that?¡± she heard Bill asking Sestra.

    ¡°Your huffing and puffing? It¡¯s all I can hear,¡± she griped. ¡°Seriously, how out of shape are you?¡±

    ¡°Well at least I¡¯m not short!¡± he snapped back.

    ¡°Quiet, the pair of you!¡± Torbek had stopped in his tracks, looking around. Taking a cue from him, Nalyn looked around too, but didn¡¯t see anything. ¡°I could hear something, until it was obscured by your bickering.¡±

    All six of them paused there on the path and listened in silence. The chattering was back, louder this time.

    ¡°Frogmen,¡± Bill whispered, his eyes wide. ¡°I¡¯ve heard of them, but I thought they were just a myth.¡±

    ¡°More tales from Mummy?¡± Sestra needled him, poking him in the side.

    ¡°Tell us what you know, and quickly,¡± Nalyn said.

    ¡°Just that they¡¯re supposed to live around here, and that they¡¯re little and kind of mean,¡± Bill said. ¡°My mum always used to tell me if I was naughty, she¡¯d bring me out here and leave me to the frogmen.¡±

    Sestra stifled a snigger at this pronouncement, but Callania elbowed her.

    ¡°Are they dangerous?¡± Elion wanted to know.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­ I mean, up until we got this far into the jungle, I thought they were something Mum made up to frighten me,¡± Bill said, his voice getting more and more high pitched as he began to panic¡ªand all the while, the chattering was getting louder.

    ¡°Oh, is little diddums frightened?¡± Sestra scoffed. ¡°Mama¡¯s precious boy needs a blankie¡ª!¡± She cut her own snide remarks off abruptly by squealing. Five heads turned as one to see Sestra being dragged off the path by two figures a little smaller than she was. She fought valiantly, but one of them had their hand over her mouth, and the other had its arms around her waist, trapping her arms and making it impossible for her to defend herself.

    ¡°Sestra!¡± Bill exclaimed, tugging his wand from his waistband.

    ¡°Put it away, boy,¡± Torbek growled. Elion was less subtle¡ªhe simply hit the dirt at the sight of Bill¡¯s wand and covered his face.

    Bill spluttered at this display of lack of trust, but Callania was already acting. She made as if to reach for her bow, then apparently decided against it and charged the little people, punching one in the face and tugging Sestra into her arms.

    There were more, though, and now Nalyn could see them more clearly. They were green, with little froggy faces. Bill had been right about this, at least: they were frogmen.

    Their language was unintelligible. They weren¡¯t speaking Nim, the common tongue of Nimrien, and they weren¡¯t speaking Ilabesh, the language of dwarves, either. It was harsh and guttural, and nothing at all like the flowing waves of Ehvari. Nalyn was tapped out. She was no linguist.

    ¡°Gekak makamaka,¡± she heard distinctly, over and over.

    ¡°Gekak makamaka!¡±

    ¡°Gekak makamaka!¡±

    Nalyn readied her axe. The frogmen surrounded them where they stood on the path. Bill cowered, his wand shaking in his hands, until Elion snatched it from him and stowed it safely in his own pocket.

    ¡°What are they saying, what are they saying?¡± Bill whined desperately.

    ¡°I think they¡¯re saying Gekak makamaka,¡± Sestra supplied unhelpfully through gritted teeth.

    ¡°What does that mean?¡±

    ¡°No one knows and we¡¯re a little busy right now,¡± Nalyn snapped. Back to back in a small circle, they faced the ever increasing horde of frogmen. One of them, a little louder than the others, stepped forward and held up a hand. Immediately the chattering stopped. Silence fell on the clearing.

    ¡°No come here,¡± the loudest frogman declared in broken Nim, pointing at the party.

    ¡°We were just passing through,¡± Nalyn said, stepping up to speak for the others.

    ¡°No pass through! Go around. Jungle for Gekak!¡± He threw his hands in the air, which was apparently some sort of signal, because as one the gathered horde of frogmen roared their response.

    ¡°Gekak makamaka!¡±

    ¡°What does that mean?¡± Bill whined again.

    ¡°Gekak makamaka mean for Gekak!¡± declared the spokesfrog. ¡°Now you for Gekak. Come in jungle? Come to castle. Food for Gekak.¡±

    ¡°Who is Gekak?¡± Bill whimpered.

    ¡°Gekak king,¡± the spokesfrog informed him.

    ¡°I am food for no man,¡± Torbek roared, swinging his sword above his head.

    ¡°You food Gekak makamaka,¡± said the spokesfrog, waving his hands again. The horde advanced on them, and Torbek spun into action.

    With one swing, he sliced through the front line of frogmen, which was unfortunately a mere drop in what was now a very angry bucket. The horde charged, and the party readied themselves.

    Nalyn swung her axe back and forth, taking out at least three or four frogmen with her first three swipes, until they got wise and began to duck. Callania finally pulled out her bow. even as distracted as she was, Nalyn watched all five of Callania¡¯s shots. The first two plunged into trees, and Nalyn herself barely ducked the third, but the fourth and fifth buried themselves in the chests of frogmen. She wanted to cheer, but there was no way to tell if they¡¯d actually hit their intended mark, or if they¡¯d been incredible flukes.

    Sestra, for her part, looked like a little whirling dervish with her two daggers, one in each hand. If Nalyn had to guess, she would have said Sestra felt embarrassed about having been grabbed¡ªor about the sound that she¡¯d let out while being grabbed.

    Even Elion was doing his best. Staying safely behind Torbek he was strumming furiously, the soft pink light bathing Torbek and somehow making him swing faster.

    And Bill cowered in the middle of the path, completely useless, his wand safely in Elion¡¯s pocket.

    Bill was the first to be taken captive, completely out in the open and undefended as he was. Nalyn tried to help him, but she couldn¡¯t get anywhere near him.

    Callania fell next, literally fell, under a wave of frogs. ¡°No!¡± Nalyn screamed. The frogmen roared in triumph¡ªat her distress? They trussed up the willowy elf as securely as they had tied Bill.

    Nalyn fought all the harder. She swung low, to account for their ducking. Swung high when they got wise to that and tried jumping. Swung everywhere. She refused to let there be any escape from her axe, and from her wrath.

    The spokesfrog picked up a large rock and crashed it down on Elion¡¯s head, and he crumpled to the ground. He wasn¡¯t unconscious, from what Nalyn could see, but he was certainly out of the fight, and his tightly tied form was dumped beside Bill and Callania. Torbek ran to his aid, and was caught in a net¡­ leaving her and Sestra left to save them all.

    And Sestra was so little, and doing her best, but there were too many of them.

    Frog bodies littered the path by the dozens, but still there were enough frogmen to overpower the party, to take their weapons and bind them, and hoist them on the back of some of the bigger ones. Before long, they were being carried through the jungle, far off the beaten track.

    <hr>

    It was pointless to struggle. They were small, but they were many, and as quickly as one was overpowered two were there to take its place. It was simpler to just to see what happened next, Nalyn thought, and deal with events as they unfolded.

    Any time she tried to call out to Callania, or to try and work out a plan of attack with Torbek, the spokesfrog would snap at her not to speak, until finally she was gagged and unable to speak at all.

    After being carried through the jungle for an indeterminate amount of time, the party was dumped unceremoniously in a clearing, almost literally in a heap. Above them loomed a castle, where the frogmen who were pouring in and out of it clearly lived.

    ¡°You wait. Gekak come.¡±

    The party straightened themselves out, getting to their feet and attempting (with their bound hands) to straighten clothing that had ridden up in unfortunate places while being carried. Callania, stepping in close, gently tugged the foul tasting gag away from Nalyn¡¯s mouth with her teeth, and took her hand comfortingly.

    ¡°Are you crying?¡± Sestra hissed incredulously at Bill.

    ¡°No! I¡¯m just¡­ allergic to frogs,¡± Bill sniffled, turning his head to try to wipe his eyes on the shoulder of his tunic. ¡°Can I have my wand back please? I could untie us, and¡­¡±

    ¡°Shut up about your wand,¡± Elion said, eyeing the frogmen, who seemed to be gearing up for Gekak¡¯s arrival.

    ¡°But I¡ª¡±

    ¡°Shut. UP,¡± Elion hissed. Nalyn could see him wincing with every motion. The spokesfrog¡¯s rock had struck him rather more than a glancing blow, from the look of things. At the back of his head, his curly brown hair was dark and matted with blood.

    Bill had opened his mouth to say something else, but shut it abruptly. A silence had fallen over the frogmen.

    ¡°Gekak makamaka¡­¡± The chant started low, almost a murmur, but rose steadily until the assembled frogmen were roaring the words, over and over, at the top of their lungs. Nalyn would have covered her ears if her hands hadn¡¯t been bound behind her back. The crowd parted, and a figure stepped into the clearing.

    Torbek barely stifled a laugh.

    Gekak, if this was indeed Gekak, was not exactly an imposing figure. He was smaller than many of the frogmen, and from where Nalyn was standing didn¡¯t look to be all that strong or smart. His back looked crooked, at least if the awkward way he was standing was any indication, and she would have sworn that one of his legs was shorter than the other. As he stumped toward them, his lopsided legs made his gait uneven, so that he looked like he was bobbing up and down as he walked¡ªa fact which did not exactly demand more respect. Possibly his eyes were a little ¡°googlier¡± than the rest of the frogmen, but really, what was googlier, in a sea of googly, bulging eyes?

    ¡°Truly? That is Gekak?¡± Callania whispered.

    Nalyn nodded and shot her a grin. ¡°Rather anticlimactic, after all the ceremony, don¡¯t you think?¡±

    ¡°No talk!¡± demanded the spokesfrog for the umpteenth time. ¡°Only Gekak talk.¡±

    Gekak weaved up to the party, bound as they were, and poked Sestra in the chest. She literally growled, baring her teeth at him, and struggled against her bonds.

    ¡°Eat first,¡± Gekak pronounced in an oddly high-pitched, reedy sort of voice, and now Nalyn had to try to stop herself from laughing.

    Gekak tottered around the group, scrutinizing them carefully. ¡°Eat next,¡± he said, poking Torbek in the chest. ¡°Nice fat dwarf.¡±

    ¡°Who are you calling fat, frog?¡± Torbek snarled.

    ¡°No talk!¡± the spokesfrog barked at him. From his loincloth he pulled a curved knife and brandished it, feinting slashing at Torbek¡¯s neck.

    ¡°Nice fat dwarf.¡± Gekak had decided to respond to Torbek directly, his voice gurgling with mirth. ¡°What do, dwarf? Big angry words, but rope hands. My people many. Now you Gekak makamaka.¡±

    As one, the assembled frogmen roared their leader¡¯s words back at him.

    ¡°Now let¡¯s be reasonable,¡± Nalyn said. Among her people she had been known as ¡°the diplomatic one¡± and maybe that was why she had been chosen to be part of this group of blustering windbags and mouthy little mischief makers. ¡°We have done nothing wrong. We do, of course, apologize for intruding on your land, Gekak, but this was not our intention. I also appreciate that ignorance of the law is no excuse. I therefore beg for clemency in this instance. Let us go, and we will leave and not bother you any further.¡±

    There was a pause as Gekak¡¯s protruding eyes goggled even further.

    ¡°What ugly one say?¡± he croaked finally, clearly baffled. The spokesfrog began speaking rapidly to him in their guttural froggy language, evidently translating.

    Nalyn¡¯s stomach sank a little at being called ¡°ugly one¡±, even without the irony of having those words spoken by Gekak: the ugliest creature she had thus far laid eyes on.

    ¡°No leave. Gekak eat,¡± Gekak pronounced. Then he went on to say something which sounded to Nalyn like ¡°bapalakama kage ta dakamata. Tana, panahakata taka danataka.¡± In other words, complete gibberish as far as she and the others were concerned. All she knew was that whatever he had said, it did not bode well for her and the others.

    The spokesfrog nodded sagely, and gestured to those frogmen who were closest to the party. Once again they were lifted, and this time carried toward the castle.

    ¡°No¡­¡± whimpered Bill, but the rest of the party were silent. Nalyn imagined that each one of them was bearing this new development as well as they were able¡ªas much as she might like to have cried and whimpered the way Bill was, she knew she had to appear strong in front of the frogmen to have any chance of negotiating their freedom.

    That was, of course, if frogmen were open to negotiation at all. The chances seemed to be growing increasingly slim¡­

 6: Torbek

    The castle was set at the edge of the jungle, and was darker on the inside, save for the spots where windows had been smashed to let light through. Something about it tickled the back of Torbek¡¯s mind, and he took the time being carried through the shabby hallways to look around and try to get his bearings.

    It came to him in a flash, and once they were dumped in a makeshift cell (probably once the ablutions block, with the door locked from the outside), he shared what he knew with the others.

    ¡°This is Grighte Castle,¡± he told them in a hoarse whisper.

    ¡°Well bully for it. How exactly is knowing its name supposed to help us escape?¡± Sestra retorted, and not for the first time, Torbek longed to slap her saucy face. Always with a comeback. Always with a comment. Everything about her seemed so unnecessary and he wondered why on earth she had been chosen.

    ¡°Any information right now may help us to form a plan,¡± the she-elf said, and Torbek nodded appreciatively. Good point, for a woman. It was nice to know that at least one of his companions wasn¡¯t completely useless. Unlike the human boy. Goddesses above, if the halfling wasn¡¯t bad enough, they had been saddled with Bill, the walking, whimpering, wailing milksop.

    ¡°So what¡¯s Grighte Castle? What do you know about it?¡±

    ¡°It used to be the Queen¡¯s home, as far as I know, before she and her family moved to Londe,¡± Torbek said, feeling almost smug at the knowledge he had that the others clearly didn¡¯t.

    ¡°She¡¯s really let things go,¡± Sestra muttered, earning a scowl from Torbek.

    ¡°So what are we going to do?¡± Bill asked.

    What indeed?

    ~*~

    Judging by the angle of the shafts of light entering their prison, Torbek could tell that a number of hours had passed. It was now late afternoon, or so he judged it to be. One of the frogmen had been by, unlocked the door, and dumped a pot of some sort of oatmeal mush type mixture in front of them, barking at them that it was ¡°lunch¡±.

    Lunch? Torbek hardly thought so. He hadn¡¯t touched the lukewarm mess. He hungered for roast beast and crispy, crunchy parsnip fries. His mouth watered at the thought, and his mood turned even darker as his stomach rumbled in response. The only thing keeping him from lashing out was the elfling, Elion, who was chattering away beside him.

    ¡°Do you ever shut up?¡± he asked abruptly, but there was no malice in his voice or in his thoughts.

    ¡°Not usually. My mum says it¡¯s because I didn¡¯t talk until I was almost four, and I was so chuffed with myself that now I¡¯m afraid I¡¯ll somehow end up back in that stage, unable to talk¡­ why, am I bothering you? Sometimes I bother people when I really get going and I never can tell until after they¡¯re well and truly vexed.¡±

    ¡°Nay, you¡¯re not bothering me, elfling.¡± Torbek reached over and ruffled Elion¡¯s hair, though he stopped when the young elf winced. Oh yes, the head wound inflicted by Gekak. ¡°Truth be told, you¡¯re the one thing keeping me sane. A man could be driven to terrible things, sitting in this cellar surrounded by this bunch, and given naught but gruel to eat.¡±

    The company, aside from the elfling, was decidedly sub-par. He¡¯d known going into this quest that there would be times where he would be obliged to grit his teeth and bite his tongue, but he hadn¡¯t reckoned on almost having bit through his tongue barely three days in.

    The women¡­ well, he hadn¡¯t expected much from women. The dwarf woman he¡¯d traveled part of the way to Lerastir with, so he knew just how touchy and argumentative she could be. It seemed like every time Torbek opened his mouth, she¡¯d had something say about it. But for all her infernal yapping, she was quiet now, sitting in the corner looking wounded and sneaking glances at the elf woman now and then.

    The elf woman, for her part, looked confused and distant, and that was about as much as Torbek could say for her. He wasn¡¯t even entirely sure he¡¯d learned her name yet¡ªcertainly, if he were called upon to give her name while he was held at sword point, he would be in mortal danger. All he really knew about her was that she was a ranger, and he only knew that because of her bow and quiver.

    And the young ones, as he¡¯d come to call the boy and the halfling, were sitting in the opposite corner, squabbling again. They¡¯d cobbled together some sort of game by picking up stones here and there where they had fallen, but it didn¡¯t seem like they could get through more than a few minutes without bickering over whose turn it was, or whether one or the other of them was cheating. Utterly useless, the pair of them.

    Two days ago, he might have lumped the elfling in with those two, but now he knew better. He had an astonishing amount of respect for the young elf to his right after the Incident of the Wolves In The Nighttime, as he was mentally calling it.

    ¡°Slim pickings, wouldn¡¯t you say, elfling?¡± he said, interrupting the elfling¡¯s flow of chatter. ¡°The young ones don¡¯t seem as if they¡¯re about to jump up and save the day, and the women are too busy having what looks like a cross between a staring contest and a peek-a-boo tournament. It¡¯s up to the men to save us all.¡±

    ¡°What can I do?¡±

    ¡°That lute of yours, could you do magic with it?¡±

    ¡°A few spells. You¡¯ve pretty much seen the extent of what I can do: a bit of a luck spell, a pain spell, and a spell to help you swing a bit faster. Nothing too flashy or useful.¡±

    Torbek pondered the possibilities. ¡°If we could find it, you could¡­ grant me luck?¡±

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t they hear me strumming? And that¡¯s only if we could find it.¡±

    That was a good point, and one that Torbek unfortunately had not considered, focused as he had been on finding their belongings and not the practicalities of using them. ¡°You¡¯re right, elfling. So we are back to the drawing board.¡±

    It was a good question. How were they going to get out of there?

    ~*~

    As the late afternoon turned to evening, Torbek continued to ponder. Eventually he resigned himself to the idea that brute strength would be necessary to escape their current predicament. If the six of them all worked together, they could potentially break down the door. After all, how strong could it possibly be?

    The last of the sunlight had left the small room before the frogman with the pots of food came back around, dumping a second pot of the tasteless mush in the middle of the room before retreating.

    The boy made a face, but approached the pot to eat his share. Torbek hung back. He was hungry, but still not hungry enough for mush.

    After Bill had taken a big mouthful, and made the requisite ¡°this tastes appalling¡± noises, the halfling pulled a roll of cloth from somewhere about her tiny person.

    ¡°Anyone else ready to get out of here?¡± she asked, in a voice that Torbek knew was supposed to be casual but just struck him as cocky and self indulgent.

    ¡°Oh, of course¡ªI¡¯ll just open the door and we can stride on out,¡± Torbek retorted. ¡°The only reason I¡¯ve waited this long is because I fancied a nice leisurely rest and some free food!¡±

    From the roll of cloth, the halfling pulled a long metal¡­ something, and another, equally inexplicable thing. She coated them with a substance from a bottle, and inserted them in the lock.

    Seconds later, it opened with a metallic clunk. ¡°You were saying?¡± the halfling smirked. She opened the door with an elaborate flourish, but Torbek, suppressing his rage at the fact she had made them sit and stew for this long without telling them that she could open the door, stopped them from trooping out.

    ¡°We go prancing out there willy-nilly, they¡¯re just going to catch us and lock us up again!¡±The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡°He¡¯s right,¡± the she-dwarf said, surprisingly backing him up. It was the first thing she¡¯d said all day. ¡°We need some sort of plan.¡±

    ¡°Well it seems to me that the most sensible thing is to let me scout ahead,¡± the halfling said. ¡°I¡¯m the smallest, the fastest, and the least¡­ obvious.¡± At this, she shot Torbek a look, and he had to slide his hands behind the breastplate of his armor to keep from smacking her. ¡°And I¡¯m not a clumsy oaf,¡± she went on, this time looking pointedly at the boy. He scowled at her.

    ¡°So you will go, and scout, and then report back on a way out of here?¡± the she-elf clarified.

    ¡°Yup. Nothing to it.¡±

    There was a pause, while all six of them looked at each other, silently weighing up the plan against their other options (which did not exist), and then Torbek nodded. ¡°Off with you then.¡±

    The halfling skipped out of the door and turned left down the hallway, while five pairs of eyes watched her go.

    ~*~

    The boy had made an elaborate count of the seconds, minutes, and hours since the halfling had left. By Torbek¡¯s reckoning, they were up to an hour and twelve minutes, assuming of course that the boy¡¯s count was accurate, which he privately thought to be doubtful. No one was saying anything, but Torbek was sure they were all thinking the same thing: that either the cocky, mouthy little halfling had been caught and probably eaten, and that was the end of her¡­ or she had escaped by herself and left them there. His emotions were mixed: he had no love for the halfling, but even he had to grudgingly admit that she was their only real chance at escape.

    Just as he was about to voice the very real possibility that she had died, there were footsteps in the corridor. Instantly, they were all on their guard. The elfling, Torbek noted with approval, seemed just as battle-ready as he was, despite the obvious disparity in their training and experience. The boy, he noted with scorn, was cowering behind the rest.

    ¡°It¡¯s me,¡± came a whisper, and the she-dwarf tugged the door open for her.

    ¡°What news?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s a way out, but we have to hurry. They¡¯ve all pigged themselves stupid on Hevla only knows what, and they¡¯re sleeping it off in one of the big rooms. I think it was a ballroom? I hunted around and found our stuff, too. They dumped it in a pile in a room near that ballroom place. They are¡­ not smart.¡±

    A piece of good news at last! There was a certain amount of clanking and clattering of armor that couldn¡¯t be helped as they mobilized, but for the most part they were fairly silent, creeping out of their cell behind the halfling.

    She led the way along the corridor, up a couple of flights of stairs, down two more hallways. Then she paused, holding up a hand.

    ¡°We¡¯ll have to crawl,¡± she breathed. ¡°This is where they¡¯re sleeping. If we wake them, we¡¯ll have to fight them.¡±

    Torbek couldn¡¯t remember the last time he had moved so slowly, so cautiously. Each step felt like it took a minute or more. He could feel sweat dripping down his spine as he crept¡ªyes, crept¡ªpast the doorway to the now-defunct ballroom where the frogmen as one were sleeping off their meal. He ventured a glance through the partially open door and shuddered. The floor was blanketed with the nasty, slimy little creatures, and the croaking, rasping snoring was almost deafening.

    When he looked back at the others, they seemed similarly cautious, moving at a glacial pace in the name of silence. They inched past the door¡­ and made it safely to the other side. All that needed to be done now was for the halfling to lead them to their weapons, then out of the castle, and they could make a run for it.

    And then Bill sneezed.

    ¡°Sorry!¡± he gasped, but the damage was done. As one, almost two hundred frogmen jolted awake. The party looked at each other in horror.

    ¡°Run!¡± Elion yelped, and they began to run, full tilt, after the halfling who scurried out in front.

    It turned out that the frogmen were not so stupid as to leave the main castle entrance unguarded. Torbek rather thought they might be, given that there were no sentries posted at their cell door. In fact, there were at least ten frogmen near the main entrance¡ªa fact the halfling had neglected to mention.

    He could berate her for that later.

    ¡°Charge!¡± he roared, and reached for his sword¡­ But his sword, of course, was in the pile with the rest of their weaponry, in a room somewhere near. It may as well have been in Arazad, for how easily he could get to it, with ten frogmen in front of him, and the rest coming up behind.

    Beside him, Elion was rummaging in his pocket. He pulled something out and handed it off to the boy, whispering rapidly.

    ¡°Hey everyone,¡± Elion said, quietly and urgently. ¡°Remember what happened last time Bill cast a spell?¡±

    The boy started chanting in Ehvari, and just in time, Torbek and the others hid their faces in the crook of their elbows or behind their hands. The castle¡¯s dim entranceway was flooded with dazzling light. Torbek looked up, as the worst of the light passed, just like it had done during the incident of the Wolves In The Nighttime.

    The frogmen were cowering, blinded, and once the halfling had desperately pointed out the room in which their things were being kept, Torbek made a break for it. In moments, he was flinging the door open, spotting their weapons, and tossing them out to their various owners.

    Armed, the party stood their ground, for about two seconds. Torbek would have quite cheerfully stayed and fought, because what right did these revolting little frogpeople have to take prisoners, to lock up free people for no other crime than walking in the wrong place?

    But the she-dwarf, much in the same way as she had cut off some of his finer rants in their short acquaintance, cut off this thought process by nudging him sharply. ¡°I see that look in your eye,¡± she murmured. ¡°Now is not the time for fighting. Now is the time for escaping with our lives.¡±

    That she was right, did not make the words rankle any less.

    Grumbling, Torbek seized the boy, who was midway through another spell¡ªbest not to let that come to fruition¡ªand began to back toward the main castle door.

    ¡°You stay,¡± the spokesfrog croaked. ¡°No go. You Gekak makamaka. We kill!¡±

    ¡°As frightfully hospitable as your offer sounds, we¡¯re going to have to respectfully decline,¡± piped up the halfling, astounding Torbek with an eloquence that he had not heard from her before. He heard Elion actually tittering at the words, and despite the dire situation, smirked himself.

    ¡°Then let¡¯s go!¡± he roared, and, with the boy still safely tucked under his arm, he sped up, backing the remaining distance to the door.

    One particularly bold frogman decided to challenge him, but he was officially tired of kowtowing to these vile little creatures. Not for a second did he consider putting the boy down¡ªinstead, he used his remaining hand to swing his beloved sword, slicing the head off the frogman.

    ¡°Anyone else?¡± he challenged, then cringed as a wave of frogmen advanced. But by then, they were at the door, and the five of them (the sixth being the boy, still safely under Torbek¡¯s arm) ran.

    He knew they would be pursued. He concentrated on running, putting one foot in front of the other, and he could sense the others around him, each managing to keep up. Except the halfling, who was falling behind¡ªuntil the she-elf scooped her up, much like he was carrying the boy.

    Torbek ran, until he could run no more, away from Grighte Castle, away from the jungle, until his lungs burned and spots danced in front of his eyes. Only then did he stop, dump the boy on the ground, and turn to brandish his sword¡­ to find that they had been pursued this far by rather more than a handful of frogmen.

    And even as he tried to judge which one to target first, Elion was breathlessly strumming his lute, singing off-key in a language Torbek wasn¡¯t familiar with, his face dark red with effort. Purple light, bright, acidic, and frankly off-putting, surrounded the lute, and sweat poured down his face, but he blinked it away and kept strumming, the song loud and discordant, but ever increasing in intensity.

    With a final, pained howl, Elion finished his ¡°song¡±. He slammed the lute end-first to the ground in front of him, and the purple light shot upwards into the air.

    It returned in the form of a bolt of actual lightning, which struck the remaining frogmen. They were killed instantly.

    Elion crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

    ¡°Frog bastards!¡± Torbek cried, dropping his sword and grabbing for the little elf, pulling him into his arms. ¡°You will pay for this!¡±

    ¡°They already have!¡± the she-elf pointed out, gesturing at the charred remains of their bodies. ¡°Let us just get out of here as quickly as possible.¡±

    ¡°Is he okay?¡± the halfling wanted to know. Torbek looked down at the young elf in his arms, fear gripping his chest.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± he replied gruffly. ¡°But I¡¯d imagine we would do well to take ourselves far from here. When he wakes¡ª¡±

    ¡°If he wakes,¡± the halfling muttered.

    ¡°When he wakes,¡± Torbek continued as if she hadn¡¯t spoken, ¡°he will be weak and probably in need of rest. We should put as much distance between us and the frog beasts as we can.¡±

    He strapped his sword to his back one handed, not wanting to set Elion down even long enough to do that. He kept the unconscious elf cradled to his chest as he strode out away from the dead frogmen, heading he didn¡¯t know where.

    ¡°Where do we go now?¡± he heard the boy asking.

    ¡°We need a map,¡± he said decisively. ¡°Enough of this blundering around and hoping for the best. Frankly I am ashamed we did not think of this before leaving Lerastir.¡±

    ¡°We thought we knew the terrain,¡± the she-elf put in, and Torbek scowled.

    ¡°And yet we pranced right into forbidden territory, were captured, and almost eaten. It is enough. We make for the next city we can find.¡±

    ¡°I¡­ I have some idea where we may find out,¡± the she-dwarf put in delicately. ¡°But it¡¯s not a city in the traditional sense.¡±

    ¡°Can we obtain a map there?¡±

    The she-dwarf hesitated. ¡°Maybe. I¡¯ve never been there, I couldn¡¯t say for certain.¡±

    Torbek shifted Elion¡¯s weight gently in his arms. ¡°Then we go there,¡± he declared. ¡°I will hear nothing against this plan. A map, and medical care for our¡­ our friend.¡± His eyes stung, and he blinked furiously. ¡°And woe betide any frogman who gets between me and the elfling¡¯s salvation.¡±

    Friend? Where had that come from? But as much as he may not have wanted to admit it, Torbek knew: he cared for the elf. Elion was his friend, despite their short acquaintance. How could he fail to respect and care about a being who had risked everything in the name of bravery and loyalty, not once but multiple times? The answer was, he could not.

    Still, there was no way he was going to allow any of the others to see this newfound emotion. He lifted his chin high as he looked around, chose a course, and started out on it.

 7: Callania

    Things were bad.

    Callania gripped her bow fitfully as they walked on in silence. Elion still had not woken, though they had been walking for almost an hour. She kept glancing over at him, grasped in Torbek¡¯s arms, but there was no change in his pale face, and Torbek steadfastly refused to engage with anyone, preferring to stride onward silently.

    Perhaps worse, Nalyn still would not look at her. She had thought they were becoming good friends, but they had not spoken since they had been captured by the frogmen, not even during their long hours of captivity where talking was all they could do. Callania did not understand it, and she had puzzled over what it was she could have done to upset the dwarf.

    Maybe, she mused, it was this ranger business. She had confessed her inadequacy as a ranger to Nalyn shortly before the frogmen had taken them, and then had proved herself woefully inept during the ensuing scuffle. Perhaps Nalyn was resentful of her continued presence, given that she was unable to protect them, the way everyone else seemed to be able to. Even Bill¡­ well, he was never going to win any prizes for ¡°most adequate wizard¡±, but when put in the right circumstances, even his blunders worked in their favor.

    ¡°Nouda for them?¡± she heard, and looked down to see Bill struggling along beside her, breathing hard. She slowed her pace and smiled mildly at him. They had not interacted all that much since setting out, but she did not harbor the resentment toward him that Torbek seemed to after the wolves. After all, if anyone knew what it felt like to be less than perfect at their designated task, it was Callania.

    ¡°Hmm?¡± she responded distractedly, stealing a glance at Nalyn. She could have sworn that the dwarf had been looking at her, but as soon as she looked over, Nalyn looked away, and Callania found herself frowning in frustration.

    ¡°Your thoughts,¡± Bill clarified. ¡°I¡¯ll pay a brass nouda for them. Two, even¡ªonly, you¡¯re far too pretty to be frowning this much. I thought maybe sharing what¡¯s bothering you might help.¡±

    Callania hesitated. Could she?

    Should she?

    ¡°I am¡­ concerned about Elion,¡± she said finally, though that was less than half of what troubled her. Other, even more discomfiting thoughts swirled in her brain, and she closed her eyes briefly against them. It did not help. She was concerned about Elion, it was true. But she was also concerned about her own place in the party, was confronting once again her own inadequacies¡ªthe same inadequacies she had wrestled with her entire life¡ªand fretting more than she cared to admit over Nalyn¡¯s prolonged silence. Had she really upset her so much?

    ¡°Yeah, well, I mean, we¡¯re all concerned about him,¡± Bill said, rather too flippantly for Callania to take him entirely seriously. ¡°But¡­ Torbek¡¯s got him, he¡¯s taking care of him. He¡¯s been pouring little bits of water down his throat as we walk, have you seen? He¡¯s weirdly invested.¡±

    ¡°He cares,¡± Callania corrected.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t think he cared about anyone,¡± Bill mused. ¡°He¡¯s just so angry all the time.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps, Bill, Torbek is angry much of the time because there is much to anger him,¡± Callania said. ¡°I cannot speak for the circumstances in which you first encountered him, for I was not there, but certainly he has a right to be angry about the night with the wolves. We all do, though certain of us are choosing to move past it faster than others.¡±

    Bill had the good grace to blush at this.

    ¡°He has a right to be angry that we chose the very wrong jungle to walk through. He has a right to be angry at being held captive, at having his sword taken from him. He has a right to be angry that in saving us all, Elion appears to have nearly given his life for us. He has a right, simply put, to be angry that at the moment, very little appears to be going right for us.¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± Bill said, kicking at a stone. ¡°But I can¡¯t help any of that.¡±

    ¡°You cannot change what has gone before. But you can influence what will come to pass,¡± Callania said, quoting her mother. Ehrena, did she miss her mother.

    ¡°And you?¡± Bill said, apparently changing the subject, abruptly enough that Callania was taken off guard.

    ¡°Me?¡±

    ¡°Why do you look so sad?¡±

    Callania looked over at Nalyn again. ¡°Myriad reasons,¡± she said finally.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got the time.¡±

    ¡°But I, alas, lack the inclination,¡± she said kindly, but firmly. ¡°Why do you not walk with Sestra? She seems as though she could do with the company.¡±

    She watched as Bill looked over his shoulder at Sestra, battling along at the back as her shorter legs struggled to keep up. He, by this time, was huffing and puffing at trying to match even Callania¡¯s slower pace, so Callania rather thought he might welcome an excuse to drop back.

    She quickened her step and caught up with Nalyn. ¡°Can we talk?¡±

    ¡°What is there to talk about?¡± Nalyn said, still refusing to meet her gaze.

    ¡°Plenty,¡± Callania said. ¡°Like why you have not spoken all day, for a start.¡±

    ¡°I haven¡¯t had anything to say.¡±

    ¡°But why? What have I done?¡± Callania knew, and hated, that her face was probably betraying the way her stomach was clenching in anxiety and nerves. They still had to quest together, and if she and Nalyn were no longer friends, the quest could prove excruciatingly uncomfortable.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t do anything,¡± Nalyn said finally. To Callania, it looked as if she were wrestling with something, so she simply waited to see if her friend would elaborate. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­¡±

    ¡°Hey, where are we?¡±

    Elion, with perfect timing.

    Although she was so grateful that he was awake, Callania could not help wishing he had remained unconscious just a few minutes longer, so she could have heard what was bothering Nalyn.

    ¡°Elion!¡± Torbek rumbled, stopping in his tracks and setting the elf on the path, seated. ¡°You are awake.¡±

    ¡°What happened?¡± Elion asked, looking around. ¡°Did we beat them?¡±

    ¡°You beat them,¡± Bill said happily, stepping up to clap him on the back. Torbek stopped him with a hand in his face.

    ¡°Back up. Give him air,¡± he said firmly.

    ¡°I¡¯m so glad you¡¯re okay!¡± Nalyn said. ¡°What you did was truly impressive¡­ but it looked like it came at a great personal cost. I hope you don¡¯t have to do it again.¡±

    ¡°I beat them,¡± Elion said. To Callania, he looked exhausted but almost gleeful. ¡°I knew that spell was a long shot, but I had to try¡­ and I beat them.¡± He looked up at everyone. ¡°So, uh¡­ where are we going now?¡±

    ¡°Big and Beardy says we have to go find a map, so we¡¯re looking for a town,¡± Sestra put in. ¡°And Axe-Girl said there¡¯s a city that isn¡¯t a city somewhere over yonder, so¡­ it¡¯s as good a direction as any.¡±

    ¡°A city that isn¡¯t a city?¡± Elion got to his feet and took a tentative couple of wobbly steps. ¡°What does that even mean?¡±

    ¡°She hasn¡¯t said,¡± Sestra went on, while Torbek frowned.

    ¡°Big and Beardy?¡±

    ¡°You cannot say it is not accurate,¡± Callania giggled. ¡°And as nicknames go, it is fairly inoffensive.¡±

    ¡°Big and Beardy,¡± Torbek muttered as they moved off again. ¡°Goddesses, what have I got myself into.¡±

    But Callania watched him adjusting his pace to walk with Elion and steady him, even though that meant the pair were considerably slowed. And with Bill and Sestra once again bringing up the rear, that left her and Nalyn at the front, setting the course.

    ¡°You were saying?¡± she said quietly as they walked.

    ¡°Hmm?¡±

    ¡°You were going to tell me why you have not spoken all day.¡±

    Nalyn looked almost pained. ¡°He said I was ugly,¡± she said finally.

    ¡°Who said you were ugly?¡±

    ¡°Gekak. He called me ¡°ugly one¡±.

    Callania literally stopped in her tracks. ¡°Gekak.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Gekak!¡±

    ¡°Nalyn. Gekak is possibly the single ugliest creature I have ever had the misfortune to lay eyes upon in my life. Why on earth would you take anything he said about your appearance to heart? Even by frogman standards, he was hideously misshapen.¡± Callania tried, and failed, not to laugh.

    ¡°Because he¡¯s the ugliest creature in Nimrien! And he thinks I¡¯m ugly,¡± Nalyn said, but as she spoke, she started to laugh a little too. ¡°Goddesses, he really was horrendous, wasn¡¯t he?¡±

    ¡°Utterly vile,¡± Callania agreed. ¡°So¡­ you have been stewing all day because that nasty little thing called you ugly?¡±

    She supposed she could see why Nalyn was upset¡­ but her day-long silence seemed rather a disproportionate response to what really was a very small slight. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    ¡°It¡¯s because he said it in front of you,¡± Nalyn said softly. She wasn¡¯t laughing now, looking up at Callania with pain in her eyes.

    ¡°Why should that matter?¡±

    ¡°Well, because you¡¯re so beautiful, and I look like¡­ like potato next to you.¡±

    ¡°Potato?¡±

    ¡°Potato,¡± Nalyn nodded, and wrinkled her nose wryly. ¡°Yes, I hear it. I hear how stupid I¡¯m sounding. I just¡­ I didn¡¯t want you to hear him calling me ugly, because then it¡¯s in your head, and maybe now you¡¯ll look at me differently.¡±

    Callania did not understand any of what was happening here, but Nalyn was talking again, and Elion was awake, and the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach was easing.

    ¡°Potato,¡± she repeated, and began to laugh at the sheer ludicrousness of the sentiment.

    ¡°Yes, all right, all right,¡± Nalyn said, poking Callania in the side and scowling playfully. ¡°You¡¯re a goddess, and I look like potato.¡±

    ¡°Potato!¡± Callania exclaimed, bending double and laughing harder. ¡°You said you¡­ you look like¡­¡± She gasped for breath. ¡°Potato!¡±

    Nalyn broke into laughter too, and Callania grinned over at her. ¡°You do not, though,¡± she said softly. ¡°Look like potato. Or, if you do, you look like very cute potato. You would make all the other potatoes jealous.¡± She was pleased to see the little smile on Nalyn¡¯s face. ¡°So¡­ are we okay?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Yeah, we were never not,¡± Nalyn replied. She nudged Callania with her shoulder lightly, and Callania nudged back as they kept walking.

    ~*~

    ¡°Where is this city that is not a city?¡± Torbek asked, taking the words right out of Callania¡¯s mouth.

    ¡°Well, I¡­¡± Nalyn looked cagey. ¡°It¡¯s supposed to be ahead.¡±

    ¡°And¡­ how is it not a city?¡± Bill put in.

    ¡°It¡¯s probably a village, like Kachi was. A main street and two stores,¡± Sestra quipped.

    ¡°No, it¡¯s¡­ well, it¡¯s a ghost city,¡± Nalyn admitted.

    Stunned silence.

    ¡°A¡­ ghost city,¡± Elion repeated.

    ¡°Yeah. But still a city,¡± Nalyn said.

    ¡°And how in Ophina¡¯s name are we supposed to get a map from a ghost city?¡± Torbek snapped. ¡°To travel to a ghost city, you have to be a ghost! What did you envision happening, that one of us would die and act as emissary? Did you wish it on Elion? Did you hope his misfortune would somehow serve us further?¡± He reached out and tugged the elf to his side protectively.

    ¡°It was an idea!¡± Callania defended. ¡°I have not heard any ideas from you as yet, Torbek of Pacot. Do not be so quick to judge!¡±

    But the fact remained, there was no way to enter a ghost city without one of them becoming a ghost.

    ¡°So instead of taking us back to Kachi, where there are actual people that could have sold us a map, you¡¯ve brought us out here to the middle of nowhere on a wild goose chase?¡±

    Callania could see that Torbek was working himself up into a fine temper, and Nalyn, usually the diplomat, seemed unable to defend herself.

    ¡°Well, there¡¯s obviously no town up ahead¡ªthat we can access, that is¡ªso let¡¯s just agree to disagree,¡± Elion said. ¡°I¡¯m fine, but I¡¯m tired, and I¡¯m not in the mood to listen to arguing.¡±

    To his credit, Torbek visibly backed down from attacking Nalyn, which let Callania back down from defending her.

    ¡°There¡¯s a building over there,¡± Bill piped up.

    ¡°It¡¯s a hundred miles away!¡± Sestra complained.

    ¡°Oh it is not. Will you stop picking at everything I say?¡±

    ¡°Enough!¡± Elion shouted, then clutched at his head. ¡°What did I just say?¡±

    ¡°There seems no other option within walking distance,¡± Callania ventured. ¡°My vote is to make for the building. Even if there is no one living there, we could shelter there for the night.¡±

    ~*~

    It was a silent party that trudged toward the building. Not even Bill and Sestra said anything. Elion¡¯s steps faltered more and more often until Torbek wordlessly scooped him up and carried him once more. Callania, mindful of the way she had seen Nalyn internalize small slights, caught her eye and took her hand, squeezing it lightly. Nalyn smiled.

    They made it as far as the shore before coming upon a fence, taller than Sestra and even Nalyn and Torbek, but not quite as tall as Callania. The gate, when they tried it, was locked, but Callania heard off-key humming from the other side.

    ¡°Is anyone there?¡± she called politely.

    A head popped up on the other side of the fence and they all jumped. Torbek reached for his sword.

    ¡°Hello! Can I help you?¡± the woman on the other side of the fence greeted them cheerfully. ¡°I don¡¯t get many visitors, so this is a nice treat. I¡¯m Gusela.¡±

    ¡°Gusela the hermit?¡± Bill squeaked, backing away from the gate, his face stricken.

    Gusela¡¯s face fell. ¡°I¡¯m not a hermit. I like my own space, and I¡¯m happy out here, but I do see people from time to time. I¡¯m not¡­ I¡¯m not a monster.¡±

    She opened the gate, and Callania stood her ground, even if Bill and Sestra took a hasty step back. Gusela had wild, unruly curls, but her face was open and friendly, her smile wide. Her face was reassuring¡­

    But the sparks of green, blue, and purple emanating from her hands were less so.

    ¡°Do your hands always do that?¡± Nalyn asked.

    ¡°Do what? Oh.¡± Gusela waved her hands and the sparks dissipated. The second they were gone, a little creature Callania could not name leaped from the shadows onto Gusela¡¯s shoulder. It was small, and vaguely simian in shape, with a long striped tail and an oddly knowing sort of face, and Callania thought it rather sweet.

    Of course, Callania had also seen will-o-wisps in her time. Her father had brought some home in a box once when she was smaller. She had thought them sweet, too. She still had the scars from that incident.

    ¡°This is Maki,¡± Gusela said fondly, reaching up to stroke the little creature behind its ears.

    ¡°What is it?¡± Bill asked, staring at the animal. It preened, its tail held high. There was something almost human about the way it took them in, gazing solemnly at each of them in turn.

    ¡°It¡¯s a lemur,¡± Gusela replied.

    ¡°What is it?¡± Sestra asked.

    Gusela considered the question. ¡°I don¡¯t know, really. It¡¯s sort of a bit of this, a bit of that¡­ lots of little things that I liked from various creatures and brought them together. He¡¯s my friend.¡±

    ¡°Ziona,¡± Torbek breathed. ¡°This thing is not natural. We will all be destroyed for consorting with it.¡±

    ¡°Actually, it was Ophina who helped to create Maki,¡± Gusela said, stopping Torbek in his tracks as Maki chittered animatedly as if in defense of his own existence. ¡°Do you really think I could bring forth a creature out of nothing? Ziona doesn¡¯t govern creation. I invoked Ophina, and I asked her permission.¡±

    Callania risked a look at Torbek¡¯s face. It was thunderous, like Gusela¡¯s explanation of Maki had somehow blasphemed his beloved Ophina.

    Nalyn cut in, effectively saving the encounter. ¡°Perhaps you could help us,¡± she said. ¡°We¡¯re a little lost, and we¡¯re looking for something. Would you happen to have a map that you could spare us?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think so,¡± Gusela said, shaking her head. ¡°But why don¡¯t you come in and have some dinner? Maki and I were just starting to think about eating.¡±

    ~*~

    As a hostess, Gusela was beyond reproach. She ushered them inside, sat them down, and offered them drinks. Torbek declined, still looking at her with a suspicious expression which Gusela seemed to be carefully ignoring.

    Dinner was a simple affair, but tasty. The interesting thing was that there was no meat served. Gusela served them each a bowl of balls made of potato, deep fried, with a choice of sauces. Callania tried both, finding one to be gorgeously creamy, and the other to be just as creamy but with a decided kick to it! She was torn as to which she preferred, and ended up alternating between the two, unable to choose.

    After a rather fraught moment where Bill apparently discovered that the spicy sauce was too spicy for his palate (and capered about the room clutching at his throat and declaring that he was sure he was on the verge of breathing fire), the party settled into a contented hum of dining and conversation. All except Torbek.

    Gusela had explained that she loved animals too much to serve them as food, and only Torbek had declined to eat. Callania was getting rather vexed with his continued rudeness, but to confront him now would only end up embarrassing their host.

    She need not have worried.

    ¡°Oi, Torbek,¡± Sestra hissed when Gusela¡¯s back was turned. ¡°Could you possibly look more like you¡¯ve sat in a turd?¡±

    ¡°Impertinence!¡± Torbek snapped, but Sestra barely even blinked.

    ¡°No, Sestra,¡± she sassed back. ¡°Have you learned any of our names?¡±

    The look Torbek gave her could have killed the entirety of Gekak¡¯s army if pointed in the right direction.

    ¡°The food is wonderful, the company is¡­ okay, and the little monkey squirrel thing is sweet,¡± Elion pronounced.

    ¡°The food is little more than I would feed to a grazing animal, the company consists of a blaspheming reprobate and the five of you, and the ¡®little monkey squirrel thing¡¯ is an abomination,¡± Torbek snapped back.

    ¡°Torbek,¡± Elion said. Callania watched the exchange with interest. ¡°Will you just try the food? It¡¯s good, I promise. And unless you ate while I was asleep, you haven¡¯t had anything since before the frogmen. Please?¡±

    And to Callania¡¯s intense amusement, Torbek gave Elion the worst scowl he had produced yet, while grudgingly dumping one of the potato balls in the sauce, and shoving it in his mouth. He chewed in what seemed to be resentment for a moment, then huffed.

    ¡°It is palatable,¡± he said gruffly, and reached for another.

    ¡°So what brings you out here?¡± Gusela said. ¡°I don¡¯t get many visitors.¡±

    ¡°You said that already,¡± Bill put in, and then flinched, presumably in response to a kick from Sestra under the table.

    ¡°We are on a quest,¡± Callania told her. ¡°We are searching for a certain grimoire that exists somewhere in Nimrien.¡±

    ¡°Hmm¡­¡± Gusela looked thoughtful for a moment, then stood and began rummaging in a drawer. From it, she pulled a roll of parchment.

    ¡°This grimoire, was it written by the four sisters?¡±

    ¡°Yeah!¡± Bill put in.

    ¡°Well, it isn¡¯t here, but I think I can help you find it,¡± Gusela said, beginning to gesticulate more animatedly. She unrolled the parchment on a clear part of the table and leaned over it, concentrating. Lifting her right hand, she began to trace a shape. Green sparks rose from somewhere under her skin, flowing down through her hand and out of her fingertips onto the parchment in the shape, Callania realized, of Nimrien itself. Gusela was drawing a map.

    The green sparks filled in the outline, then suddenly changed to blue as Gusela sketched in the various seas, lakes, and rivers of Nimrien.

    ¡°What do you know, about where it is?¡± Gusela asked, voice echoing gently.

    Callania shivered. ¡°We were initially told it was in a tower¡­ but then another source declared that not to be true, and told us that it was in ¡®the center¡¯. Of what, this source was unclear.¡±

    The echoes deepened. ¡°I learned this location spell a long time ago. If I concentrate, if I trust in the magic, Maki will show us where you must go.¡±

    Gusela¡¯s sparks turned purple, and she dabbed here and there at the parchment. ¡°These are the various towers that exist in Nimrien,¡± she informed them. A black spot was the last thing to appear, right in the location of Gusela¡¯s home.

    Then Maki began to chitter excitedly, leaping from Gusela¡¯s side to her shoulder, to the table, and finally on the parchment. His warm brown eyes glittered gold, and Callania realized that Gusela¡¯s eyes were glittering in the same way. As Gusela crooned gently to her little friend, Maki stood on the parchment, turning this way and that. Finally, he pointed to a purple dab, and became very still.

    ¡°Is that it, sweet friend?¡± Gusela asked. Maki, incredibly, nodded, then jumped back to Gusela¡¯s shoulder, nuzzling into her neck. The spot he had pointed to slowly turned gold.

    ¡°There,¡± Gusela said. The echo had drained from her voice, and her eyes returned to a much more normal brown. ¡°That¡¯s where you¡¯ll find this grimoire: right where the map turned gold. Maki always knows.¡±

    Elion gingerly picked up the parchment, rolling it gently.

    ¡°How do we know this is a faithful representation of Nimrien?¡± Torbek grumbled, his mouth full of food. ¡°How do we know that this crazed old woman isn¡¯t sending us to uncertain doom?¡±

    ¡°How do you know you haven¡¯t got a belly full of poison right now?¡± Sestra shot back, and Callania was forced to hide a smirk, given the sheer amount of food that Torbek had put away after his initial expressions of distaste. ¡°Because we all saw the magic with our own eyes, that¡¯s how. Because we don¡¯t exactly have a lot of options, and we definitely don¡¯t have any other map. But mostly, it¡¯s because we¡¯re not all suspicious beardy grumps who think the worst of everyone like you do.¡±

    ¡°You will get your comeuppance one day, halfling,¡± Torbek declared, pointing at Sestra. ¡°You think there are no repercussions for the things you say. One day you will run your mouth in front of the wrong person, and things will not end well for you.¡±

    ¡°Nyah,¡± Sestra dismissed him with a wave of her hand. ¡°Do I look bothered?¡±

    ¡°Ahem,¡± Gusela interrupted them. ¡°If there¡¯s nothing else¡­ Maki and I do like to have an early night.¡±

    ¡°You have been very hospitable,¡± Callania told Gusela. The parchment had ¡°dried¡±, for lack of a better word, the sparkles fading until the resulting map had taken on the appearance of soft chalk. Callania rolled it up and carefully stowed it in her pack.

    ¡°Then onward,¡± Elion said brightly.

    ¡°Yes, onward,¡± Torbek said gruffly. He glared briefly at Maki before nodding to Gusela and stalking out. Callania, on the other hand, gave the tiny squirrel-monkey looking creature a soft scratch on the head before parting. He really was a sweet little thing, she thought. Maki¡¯s eyes glowed gold briefly again, and he looked Callania right in the eye, pointing at Sestra¡¯s parting form and chittering quietly.

    Callania shivered. Did he know something? What was he trying to tell her?

    It haunted her thoughts for much of the walk to the shore.

 8: Sestra

    If there was a stupider bunch of idiots in Nimrien, Sestra hadn¡¯t met them yet.

    She trudged along beside Bill, listening to the others bicker. Of course, if they actually stopped to think, the answer was clear. Get a boat, sail east to where the grimoire apparently was, get the grimoire, bring it home. This really didn¡¯t need to be as hard as they were making it!

    ¡°Do you think Torbek kicked up such a fuss because that hermit lady insulted his beloved goddess?¡± she asked Bill finally.

    ¡°Did she, though?¡± Bill replied.

    Sestra sighed. Every time she talked, Bill had to argue with it somehow, and every time he did it brought her a little closer to punching him in the face¡ªor slitting his throat while he slept.

    ¡°She did, she didn¡¯t, it doesn¡¯t matter,¡± she shot back through gritted teeth. ¡°Big and Beardy thinks she did, and that¡¯s what he¡¯s salty about.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s salty about everything,¡± Bill said. ¡°I think he hates me.¡±

    ¡°Probably,¡± Sestra snorted. ¡°You did almost get us all killed.¡±

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t my fault!¡± Bill whined. ¡°Anyone could have fallen asleep!¡±

    ¡°But it wasn¡¯t anyone. It was you.¡±

    ¡°You needn¡¯t keep rubbing it in.¡±

    ¡°You brought it up!¡±

    Winding Bill up was about the only fun thing left on this stupid quest. She was tired, and hungry, and thirsty, and Goddesses, so bored, and if she needed to entertain herself by needling and poking at Bill¡¯s tiny brain, well. That was the price of having her along.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know why they don¡¯t just get a boat so we can sail for the stupid grimoire,¡± she said for the hundredth time.

    ¡°Have you any money, halfling? No? Well then hold your tongue while your elders and betters work out what to do next,¡± Torbek rumbled.

    Sestra felt the familiar pink mist starting to taint the edges of her vision and she instinctively reached for her dagger, intending to slice Big and Beardy¡¯s beard right off¡­ but thought better of it at the last moment.

    ¡°Money? Who needs money? Just steal one,¡± she griped.

    ¡°I do not steal,¡± Torbek said firmly.

    ¡°I must concur,¡± Callania put in, and Sestra shot her one of her best, ugliest looks. Bad enough that Big and Beardy kept treating her like a naughty child without the elf girl sticking her oar in it.

    They had been walking along beside the shore for what felt like forever and Sestra was itching to just do something.

    But on they trekked.

    And on.

    And on.

    Gusela¡¯s map didn¡¯t have any place names on it, just the shape of the coast as it met the shore, and that gold shimmering point they were supposed to be making for. But as they walked, the black spot that had been on Gusela¡¯s house seemed to steadily move.

    ¡°It is us!¡± Torbek bellowed suddenly. ¡°The black spot is us! It moves as we move, and reflects our exact location! Sorcery!¡±

    The others crowded around, checking and rechecking the map as they moved. It took a bit of walking to see what Torbek was talking about¡ªNimrien was a big place, after all¡ªbut eventually it looked like Torbek had been right.

    Still, even though everyone said they were going to head east toward that spot, they seemed to be following north. And when Sestra tried to point this out, the big, beardy dwarf oaf just shot her down again.

    So when she saw the boat just sitting there among the rocks, she badly wanted to say nothing. Let him sort this mess out, if he knew so much.

    But, she had a bit of a soft spot for Elion too, and she could see he was about done, even if he was putting a brave face on it.

    ¡°Boat,¡± she said shortly, pointing to the boat where it sat on its side, just out of reach of the waves.

    ¡°What?¡± Bill said blankly, not seeing what she was seeing. Losing her rag slightly, Sestra took his head between her hands and actually turned it to look at the boat.

    ¡°Boat.¡±

    It was too easy, was what it was. But it was there, and it wouldn¡¯t be stealing as clearly wasn¡¯t tied up so it must not belong to anyone, and they did need to head east, and heading east did mean finding a boat.

    They all turned and looked where Sestra was pointing, but no one looked too excited. Big and Beardy looked like he might say something, but then didn¡¯t.

    ¡°We should make camp for the night,¡± Nalyn said, and everyone was thrilled to agree with her. Which pissed Sestra off.

    <hr>

    She pitched her tent a ways away from the others. Nalyn and Callania had given up pretending they weren¡¯t¡­ something, and were sharing Nalyn¡¯s tent. Torbek was tending to Elion. He¡¯d put the elf boy¡¯s tent up, then helped him crawl into it, and gone in after him. That was¡­ Sestra wrinkled her nose. Well, it was nothing. It wasn¡¯t like Nalyn and Callania. They were something. Torbek just didn¡¯t want to leave Elion alone, and she understood why. If he hadn¡¯t been in there, she might have been tempted to go look after him herself. If she were the sort of person who did that sort of thing.

    If she were the sort of person who had friends.

    Seeing the way people were doubling up for the night, Bill had actually asked if she wanted to bunk with him, and she¡¯d had a hard time deciding whether to laugh or throw up. In the end though, laughter was less to clean up, so she laughed in his face and told him to sleep in his own bloody tent. And he had to put it up himself, and she could see he still hadn¡¯t worked out how to do it properly. She snickered as she settled down.

    But she couldn¡¯t sleep, and she couldn¡¯t work out why. And she couldn¡¯t work out why she was still with this pack of assholes. What did they matter, anyway? They were just pains in her rear, and they were idiots, always putting her in danger. Would she have faced wolves or gibbering frogmen if she hadn¡¯t thrown her lot in with this crew? Even the money the Collector had promised to pay them was starting to seem not worth it to stick around much longer.

    On silent feet she crept out of her tent and crept down to the shore, where she¡¯d seen the boat. She stood looking at it for a long time, deciding what to do then changing her mind, then changing it back, then coming up with a new plan, all in the same moment. She bit her lip, and shuffled her feet, and at last went back to the little camp and took her tent down, stowing it silently in her pack and hefting it onto her back. She went back down to the boat and again, stood looking at it, still undecided.

    As the first rays of sun began to creep above the water line, she sucked in a deep breath, tossed her pack into the boat, and climbed in after it.

    It was just a little sailing boat, and though Sestra had never sailed before, she didn¡¯t think it could be that hard to work out how to do it. And then she could sail east by herself, and maybe even find the grimoire, and possibly collect all six portions of the Collector¡¯s payment!

    With a tug on this rope and that, and after clambering out to give the boat a great shove into the surf, the sails suddenly filled with the light breeze, and the boat began to scud lightly over the waves.

    Idly, she slapped at a bug that had decided to snack on her neck, and looked out over the Six Seas. She felt elated for all of thirty seconds. Then she started panicking, badly.

    What had she done? Where was she going? What was she doing? She didn¡¯t know how to sail. This had been a complete fluke. A complete piece of luck that she had managed to make the dilapidated old boat sail at all, and a massive piece of luck that she hadn¡¯t immediately sank. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    Now frantic, she began tugging on each rope in turn, trying to work out how to turn the boat around, how to go back.

    She couldn¡¯t do this by herself.

    ¡°I can¡¯t do this by myself!¡± she sobbed, and knew it to be true. Goddesses, what she wouldn¡¯t give to even have useless bloody Bill right now. Two mouths could scream for help louder than one could.

    After what seemed like hours, she tugged a rope that knocked a wooden¡­ something, and the boat turned slightly. Heartened, she tugged the wooden thing harder, and the boat turned more. It was a wide circle she was beginning to make, but a circle nonetheless.

    The boat turned out of the wind, and the sail deflated, but Sestra had miraculously built up enough momentum that, slowly but surely, the boat drifted back toward the shore.

    ¡°Thank all of the Goddesses for the tide,¡± she whispered fervently, dashing the tears from her face and gulping in air. ¡°Thank the Goddesses for their help.¡±

    She grabbed her pack and leapt off the boat the moment she was close enough to the beach that she could walk rather than swim. She hurried back to the camp, and made a big show of pretending to be stuffing her tent into her pack just as the others were coming out of their own tents.

    ¡°Up early, halfling?¡± Torbek commented.

    ¡°Your snoring woke me. Figured there was no sense in wasting daylight,¡± she shot back.

    ¡°What are we going to do now?¡± Bill asked, his voice just as whiny as Sestra remembered it. She stifled a smile. It wouldn¡¯t do for him to catch on that actually, she maybe didn¡¯t hate him quite as much as she thought she did.

    ¡°I can¡¯t do this alone,¡± she murmured.

    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Nalyn was the closest, but even she wasn¡¯t close enough to pick up on Sestra¡¯s mumbling.

    ¡°There¡¯s that boat on the shore,¡± she said instead of answering. ¡°It¡¯s little, but it looks like it¡¯ll float, and it¡¯ll probably take all of us. We should go get it. It doesn¡¯t belong to anyone, or it¡¯d be tied up. We can sail east.¡±

    It was the most she had offered since they had set out (aside from busting them out of Gekak¡¯s castle, that was), and she fully expected Torbek at least to pooh-pooh her words and decide something completely different for them to do. But he just nodded to her and shouldered his pack.

    ¡°Lead on then,¡± Elion said. He seemed¡­ stronger, and Sestra offered him a small smile. He beamed in return, which made her own awkward smile grow wider.

    ¡°Can you even sail a boat?¡± Bill put in as the little company began to walk down to the shore.

    ¡°Course. Can¡¯t you?¡± Sestra retorted¡ªas if she hadn¡¯t just had the most terrifying trial by fire introduction to sailing anyone in Nimrien had probably ever had.

    <hr>

    If Sestra was no sailor, Callania was. It was hard not to watch, gobsmacked, as the elf lady leaped around the little boat, adjusting ropes here and there seemingly at random, and the boat responded as if it were alive and somehow bonded with her. Callania¡¯s long blonde hair streamed behind her as she flitted here and there, and Sestra noted with a smirk that she wasn¡¯t the only one watching. Bill¡¯s mouth hung open and his eyes were wide¡ªand Nalyn seemed equally enraptured.

    ¡°We are on the Six Seas,¡± Callania told them happily. ¡°This is where I was born, where I grew up. Perhaps we could stop on my island, and you all could meet my tribe!¡±

    ¡°More plant food,¡± Torbek muttered under his breath.

    Sestra was about to make a crack about his eating habits, when a wave of sickness hit her from out of nowhere, and she had to lean over the side quickly as she was violently ill.

    ¡°Are you alright?¡± Nalyn asked, and Sestra waved her off with one arm, the other arm clinging for dear life to the side of the boat. The further out they got, the choppier the water seemed to become, and the sicker she seemed to feel.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± she croaked. ¡°Just¡­ leave me.¡±

    But she could sense Nalyn hovering. Just like she could sense Bill retching¡ªclearly he couldn¡¯t handle the sight of someone else throwing up.

    After what seemed like a hundred years, the sick feeling went away and she stood up straight again.

    ¡°Feel better?¡± Elion asked her quietly, and she nodded, testing her insides to see if they¡¯d behave. She didn¡¯t feel great, but she¡¯d live. She scratched absently at an itch on the back of her neck, then stumbled over to sit down next to him.

    ¡°How do folk do this all day?¡± she asked. ¡°Look at her up there, like she was born on a boat¡­¡±

    ¡°Well, to hear her talk, she pretty much was,¡± Elion told her.

    ¡°I¡¯ve decided I don¡¯t like boats,¡± she told him quietly. ¡°They make my belly all¡­ blech.¡±

    Elion leaned back beside her. Sestra guessed, if she had to choose, he was the one she hated the least.

    ¡°It¡¯s only for a little while. We¡¯ll probably land somewhere soon,¡± he said, looking out over the water. Sestra looked too, and what she saw didn¡¯t inspire much hope for ¡°soon¡±. There were islands in view, but nothing big. Nothing that they were going to decide to land on, as far as she could tell.

    It was a rough few hours on the sea. Every second, Sestra was sure they¡¯d hit something and sink, but Callania turned out to be a really good sailor, even if she was pants at it. It looked like they could sail for as long as they wanted to.

    Then Nalyn had to speak up.

    ¡°We have a leak,¡± she said quietly to Callania, but Sestra heard her¡ªand so did Bill.

    ¡°The boat is leaking!¡± he yelped. Sestra kicked him, ill as she still felt, but it didn¡¯t make a difference. He was determined to do what he did best: panic, and not help at all.

    Sestra didn¡¯t want to keep being thrown in with him when people thought of them. She scurried to do what she could, tugging her outer tunic off and cramming it into the hole Nalyn had pointed out. It did almost nothing to stop the water from coming into the boat, but damnit, she was trying, which was more than she could say for Bill, who was strapping small pieces of wood to his arm ¡°so that I can float when the boat goes down¡±.

    After a tense few minutes, at long last, Callania gasped in excitement and pointed to a far off blob. ¡°My island,¡± she cried.

    Sestra looked, but didn¡¯t see much more than a green smudge. A little while later, though, it started to look like an island, and a little while after that it looked like it was actually within reach. By this time, the water coming into their boat was a real problem. Her shoes, such as they were, were starting to get damp as the water lapped over the deck. Landing on Callania¡¯s island couldn¡¯t have come soon enough. She gave the back of her neck one last absentminded scratch before leaping out of the boat with the others, looking around this new land.

    She¡¯d never been outside of Lerastir, so this was pretty exciting, but she did her best not to let it show. ¡°This is where you grew up?¡± she asked Callania, who nodded. ¡°There¡¯s nothing here!¡±

    ¡°Look harder.¡±

    And as Sestra narrowed her eyes and looked into the surrounding trees, expecting nothing at all, suddenly houses began to appear, as if they hadn¡¯t been there the whole time. Sestra sucked in a breath, realizing with a jump the busy little village that was all around her, completely unseen at first glance.

    A young elf boy was digging in the sand on the shore, and Sestra saw his eyes widen when he saw them. He leaped to his feet, stammering. ¡°M¡­ M¡¯lady,¡± he managed, and it was Sestra¡¯s turn to goggle. The little elf boy bowed deeply before standing up straight again. ¡°I will fetch your parents, m¡¯lady.¡±

    When Sestra looked at Callania, her face was red. Prettily red, she thought with annoyance. Did elves always have to be so¡­ pretty? At least Elion was doofy.

    ¡°I apologize, companions,¡± Callania said quietly. ¡°I wanted you to see where I came from, but I rather forgot the ceremony that would accompany my return.¡±

    And two older elves emerged from the trees, a stunning elf woman who looked like an older version of Callania, and a handsome elf man with the same hair and eyes. The boy ran in front of them, leading the way.

    ¡°My lord, my lady¡­ the lady Callania,¡± he announced (pretty unnecessarily, Sestra thought, unless Callania¡¯s parents were as simple as Bill), and the older couple moved forward.

    ¡°Darling,¡± the older woman gasped, and pulled Callania into a tight hug.

    Was that was it was like to have a mum? For a split second, Sestra wished there were someone, anyone, in all of Nimrien who would feel like greeting her like that after being apart from her.

    ¡°May I present Lord Corym Naefaren, and his lady wife Bellaluna,¡± the young boy recited, like he¡¯d had it drummed into his head.

    ¡°You are royalty,¡± Torbek gasped, looking at Callania like she¡¯d punched him in the business area.

    ¡°I am not!¡± Callania said quickly. ¡°My mother¡¯s brother is married to the youngest sister of the queen. The queen is royal, as are her children. I am simply¡­¡± and here Sestra heard her sigh. ¡°Noble.¡±

    ¡°Noble,¡± Torbek sneered. ¡°Still more than we are, are you not?¡±

    ¡°Leave her alone,¡± Nalyn broke in. ¡°She can¡¯t help the circumstances of her birth any more than you can. Big and Beardy.¡±

    Sestra couldn¡¯t help laughing out loud when Nalyn used her own nickname for Torbek. ¡°Yeah!¡± she put in.

    All through this chatter, Callania¡¯s parents had remained silent, but now her mother spoke. ¡°It is an honor to receive the guests of our daughter.¡±

    ¡°Where are we, exactly?¡± Elion wanted to know.

    ¡°This island is known as Hallinet,¡± Lord Corym told him.

    Part of Sestra wanted to be snarky and sassy. But another, newer part of her told her to keep quiet and be respectful. She held her tongue, and thought hard about the feeling she was having. Like she should be polite. Like Callania¡¯s parents meant something to Callania, and Callania meant something to her, Sestra. She felt herself going red in the face, but the dozen retorts that sprang to her tongue stayed safely inside her. So she said nothing, just scratched her neck a little.

    ¡°Mother, Father,¡± Callania said after a long pause. ¡°We can stay for a meal, and perhaps a night, but then we must press on with our quest.¡±

    ¡°As you wish, daughter,¡± Lady Bellaluna smiled.

    ¡°And where is my lady sister?¡± Callania asked. Even Sestra couldn¡¯t miss the cloud that passed over Callania¡¯s mother¡¯s face.

    ¡°Lady Caeda is hunting,¡± she said. ¡°She should be back before night falls.¡±

    Sestra watched Callania to see how she took the news. It wasn¡¯t that big a deal, surely¡ªno one had any idea they were coming. The little elf boy had had to go fetch her parents, after all. It wasn¡¯t that surprising that Callania¡¯s sister would be out doing something when they just happened to show up.

    ¡°And did my lady sister leave before, or after, hearing the news that I had arrived?¡± Callania asked, and Sestra flinched.

    Even she knew not to ask questions you might not want the answer to.

    ¡°After,¡± Lord Corym said finally. Callania slumped, but said nothing.

    ¡°Enough pleasantries. Show us to where we may wash,¡± Torbek said gruffly. In his own, brash, rude way, he was rescuing Callania from the awkward moment. It looked like her parents were choosing to take his rudeness in the manner in which it was intended¡ªwithout offense.

    ¡°Nelaeryn will show you to the guest quarters,¡± Lady Bellaluna said, and the little boy puffed himself up and grinned.

    ¡°Please, come with me,¡± he said importantly.

    Sestra and the others followed him in silence. But she couldn¡¯t help stealing a few sneaky glances at Callania. What was up with her and her ¡°lady sister¡±?

 9: Bartok

    Astus sat up, scratched his ear violently, then settled back down on his cushion. Bartok smiled. Hell-hound Astus might be, but if you ignored the ever present flame flickering at the back of his throat, he was just like any other dog.

    Bartok reached down into the bowl beside his chair and selected a large green gem, tossing it for Astus who leaped up, tail wagging, to chase after it. Obediently the dog brought the gem back, only slightly singed.

    ¡°Oh, good boy,¡± Bartok crooned. ¡°Such a good boy. Do you want to chase it again?¡±

    Astus cocked his head to the side, his whole back half swaying with the force of his tail wagging. Bartok tossed the gem again, chuckling as Astus stumbled over his own feet in his haste to chase it.

    ¡°Let us settle in and watch the goings-on,¡± he said when Astus brought the gem back. He pointed the bowl, and the well-trained hound dropped the gem into it, then plopped down onto his cushion once more. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    Bartok waved a hand at the bowl, and the gems shimmered and disappeared, replaced by a picture of a lush green island, and the six ragtag adventurers.

    Astus gazed at the picture intently then whined, sticking his nose into the bowl to sniff at the picture where the halfling sat a little way apart from the group, looking miserable. He looked over his shoulder at Bartok and sneezed, then nosed at the bowl-screen again.

    ¡°Yes, the halfling does appear to be sick,¡± Bartok confirmed with a grin.

    Astus huffed out a breath and shook himself vigorously.

    ¡°I rather thought the elf boy would be the first to go,¡± Bartok mused. ¡°Still, he may yet prove useful. The halfling rubs them all up the wrong way. They could spare her, could they not?¡±

    Incapable of actual speech, Astus just yawned widely and closed his eyes.

    ¡°Very well. I will wake you when she dies,¡± Bartok crooned, scratching the hound between his ears gently.