You can read the previous chapter here!
“So where are we gonna find this guy?” Kast, hood back on, spoke in a low voice as the group ducked through the city streets.
“Maybe The Hammer’s Promise,” said Asp, “maybe just out patrolling. We’ll find him.”
Sash led the way through the city slums, Steel-Eyes and Guy right behind them, and dawning looks of recognition crossed the faces of many of the people they saw, who sometimes said hello and sometimes simply stared. But unlike the stares Asp was used to, these were stares of respect. The statue seemed to have done wonders for their images here in town.
They turned down a street and found themselves outside The Hammer’s Promise. Stepping inside, they saw a small collection of people, most of whom they had seen before, gathered around, talking. A few of them, Mrs. Button among them, sighted the group and stopped talking. Hurrying forward, these people greeted the group.
“Look! It’s them!”
“You’re back!”
“The heroes have returned!”
Remember, none of them know you. You’re Penelope, Asp reminded herself as the group was swarmed.
So many voices spoke at once that it was all Asp could do to focus on those speaking to her. Most everyone present seemed to want Sash’s and Steel-Eyes’s attention, but after a moment, only Mrs. Button stood talking to Asp.
“Where did Miss Violet go?” asked the slightkin mother.
Asp smiled diplomatically and somewhat sadly. “I had to send her ahead to scout the next city on my path, but my associates tell me she did very well here.”
“Oh, she did,” gushed Mrs. Button. “She saved my baby.”
Asp smiled. “I’m so glad to hear that. Please, allow me to introduce myself–I’m Lady Penelope Jasmine. I hail from Thistlewade.”
“I grew up there,” said Mrs. Button, a faraway look on her face. “How is it now?”
“It’s blossoming, ma’am,” replied Asp proudly. “It’s a prospering, safe city with better prospects every day. May I ask why you moved out here?”
Mrs. Button put on what Asp recognized as a fake smile, the kind one wears to mask pain. “My father passed away, and we couldn’t afford to stay. My mother took an apprenticeship to a traveling dressmaker, and by my twenties, we were out here. We were in the realm of the desert elves by then, and the dressmaker, another slightkin, was targeted by the city guards. My mother and I came here to Lo’Torrin because we heard it was the most accepting place for non-elves. This city is as much my home as Thistlewade was. I met Burt, my husband, here. We built a small shop that sells the candles I make here. Our daughter, Olivia, has never left the city.” Mrs. Button paused for a moment, and Asp recognized the telltale sign that the woman was lying to herself. But then the look disappeared, replaced by the relief of telling the truth as she continued to speak. “Don’t get me wrong: I miss Thistlewade sometimes. It’s a good place. I hope to take Olivia there some day. But this is what we have, and I’m grateful for it.”
Asp studied Mrs. Button’s face; the woman seemed to be fighting a sadness and losing ground slowly. She matched Mrs. Button’s sad smile. “Your name, ma’am?”
“Pearl,” replied Mrs. Button, trying to collect herself, “Pearl Button.”
“Mrs. Button,” began Asp.
“Oh, please,” replied the slightkin woman. “Pearl is fine.”
Asp smiled warmly. “Pearl, then. Do you want to return to Thistlewade only to visit, or in a more permanent situation?”
Mrs. Button shrugged. “I don’t think we’ll ever have enough to start over there.”
Asp shook her head. “No, what I’m asking is if you want to.”
Mrs. Button tilted her head to the side. “I mean, absolutely. You say it’s doing as well as ever, and it would be nice to start over somewhere safer after all this. I mean, I’m thrilled to have my baby back, but it’s hard to not worry something else will happen.” A tear welled in her left eye, and she dabbed at it gently with a handkerchief.
Asp smiled again. “Please do me a favor,” she said, withdrawing a stack of crowns from her coinpurse, “take these, and go home. Buy a safe little home in a good neighborhood. Start a new candle shop. Let Olivia grow up in safety. Enjoy the old sights, smells, and tastes of where you grew up. Show Burt around, and see what’s new. And do me a favor–I invested in a little company out that way called Thimblefull Vineyards. Have a glass of wine for me.” She looked down at the handful of crowns she held and squinted. She shook her head and added several more crowns. “In a good neighborhood.”
Mrs. Button seemed to be in shock. She stood still, mouth open, eyes wide. Several seconds passed. Then, suddenly, she began to cry. It was a few gentle tears at first, then heaving sobs. “Oh, Lady Jasmine! I can’t– But I–”
Asp stepped forward and hugged her, clutching the crowns tightly as she did so. With her other hand, she patted the woman on the back. “Pearl, listen. I would never forgive myself if I heard your story and didn’t help. It would be a personal favor to me.”
Mrs. Button cried a moment longer, then pulled away from Asp. She was smiling through the tears. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you and Delia, but you two . . . I don’t even have the words. Olivia will have a good life because of you. I’ll be grateful forever.”
Asp smiled and held out the crowns, which Mrs. Button took carefully, depositing them into her purse. “Gratitude is more than I ask,” replied Asp. “I only want you to have the future you deserve.”
A thought suddenly wormed its way into Asp’s head. Why am I doing this? I’m not rich enough to be going around financing random people moving across the world just because. She’s done nothing for me but make me feel good after I saved her kid. Why? But as Mrs. Button searched for words, Asp read her face. She was delighted, shocked, thrilled, thankful. This will change her life. She’ll be happy. Her whole family will be happy. My whole family is gone from Thistlewade–Dad is dead, mom is searching everywhere for me, I’m going all across Afira to do something crazy–and we were never happy there, not really. But Pearl–she’ll be happy. She noticed the reduced weight of the coinpurse at her hip. Fuck it. I’ll make more.
“Lady Jasmine,” began Mrs. Button.
“Call me Penelope,” interrupted Asp, placing a hand on the woman’s shoulder.
Mrs. Button blushed slightly and began again. “Penelope, you are sent from heaven. Delia gave me something I never should have lost, and you’ve given me something I never thought I’d get back. If I can ever repay you, please let me know.”
Asp smiled and squeezed Mrs. Button’s shoulder lightly. “All the repayment I ask is that you make something good of this for your family.” Hopefully little Olivia gets the childhood I never did.
Mrs. Button looked at Asp strangely. “You remind me of her,” she muttered.
Asp furrowed her brow. “Of who?”
“Of Delia,” said Mrs. Button. “Your face, your eyes, the way you touched my shoulder–she did that too.”
Panic rose inside Asp. Shit. She knows. I’m fucked. What do I say? She’s my cousin. She’s my sister. She’s–
“It must be the fact you both are such kind women,” said Mrs. Button with a smile. “Thank you again.”
Asp smiled as confidently as she could manage. “But of course. Now, have you seen Celeon?”
Mrs. Button gestured into the small room off to the side. “He’s in there, I’m pretty sure. Now, I hope this isn’t rude, but I think I should go–I want to tell Burt and Olivia the good news.” She beamed at Asp.
“Not rude at all,” Asp replied warmly. “Safe travels, and good luck.”
Mrs. Button smiled once more and scurried out of The Hammer’s Promise. Asp stood for a moment, breathed deeply to relax after the fear of being found out, and surveyed the room. Sash and Steel-Eyes were still surrounded by adoring fans, and Larkin excitedly chatted with them, learning the details of their discovery of the kidnapping ring; the hornkin’s face seemed to be constantly growing more and more surprised and delighted, and he kept slapping her hands on her allies’ backs in excitement. Asp smiled to herself and walked into the side room.
At a small table, the man who had run the meeting those days ago sat speaking to Celeon. Asp approached them and made a small gesture with her hand to cut in.
“Can I help you?” asked the man, an eyebrow cocked.
“I’m so sorry,” said Asp, bowing, “but I need to speak to Celeon just briefly. May I have a moment?”
The man looked to Celeon, who shrugged and nodded. “Sure,” he said, rising from the table and leaving.
Asp climbed into the vacated chair and looked around to make sure no one was paying attention save for Celeon. I hope this works. She grabbed her long, flowing hair and held it back away from her face, and without her slightkin accent said, “Hey, Celeon. Remember me?”
Celeon leaned back and then, after a moment, smiled. “Delia?”
Asp grinned mischievously. “Yes, but right now, I’m Penelope, diplomat of Thistlewade.”
Celeon chuckled. “I figured there was more to you than meets the eye.”
Asp widened her eyes and shook her head. “That’s the least of it. I’ll be quick. Me and Sash and Steel-Eyes met up with Larkin, the hornkin in the next room.” Celeon leaned back in his chair to get a look back into the main room, then returned his gaze to Asp. She continued: “We crossed a treaty line, apparently, and reignited the war between the elves and Ronan’el.”
Celeon let out a low whistle. “That was you?”
Asp sighed. “Honest mistake. Anyway, the Ronan’el captured us, and now we’re bound up in a mission to permanently end the war via a new treaty. We just got Arokosiel to sign. He said to talk to you before we left. He said you know a lot about the elven courts, and we need some guidance before we leave town for more signatures. Anything helpful you can tell us?”
Celeon had listened in silence, and then slowly, he began to laugh. He laughed for a while, and Asp began to worry that something was wrong, but then he regained control of himself and answered. “If you’d have told me when I met the scrappy little reporter messing with Madris that you’d be part of a team to end the war for good, I would’ve told you I was a blade of grass that came to life. But after the kidnapping thing, well, I guess I’m not all that surprised. You are a curious one, Delia, or Penelope, or whoever you actually are.”
Asp waved a hand. “Who I am doesn’t matter right now. Every day we don’t have the signatures is a day that hundreds if not thousands of people die.”
Celeon nodded sadly. “Yeah. Huh, this is really something. But like you said, the courts. Where do I begin?” He leaned back in his chair, stroking his chin. “Well, you spoke to Lord Arokosiel, and he’ll have been your easiest–good place to start, assuming you’re going for the most likely to agree.”
Asp nodded back. “The more signatures on the treaty, the more likely the rest are to sign, we figured.”
“Not a bad strategy,” said Celeon, his eyes distant. “So then, it would probably be Lo’Thalas in the mountains next–Lady Leonarra is all business, and she’s not a proud, angry one like some of the rest. She’d hear you out, anyway, and then she’s not inclined to just say no. Of course, Lo’Alarai, the home of the wood elves could also be a good next step, too. Not because Lady Norasynia would be quick to agree to your terms–she’s a tough nut to crack–but because letting her know what you’re aiming to do before you spring it on her could be wise. If you go there, you could speak to an old man, Melleon. He’s a little strange to most people, but his strangeness extends to elves, too. He likes to buck tradition. He will be hard to pin down, that’s for sure. But he might have some insights that I don’t have, and he has an in with Lady Norasynia if you decide to go that route.”
Though she suspected from his tone that there was something remaining unsaid, Asp had pulled out Delia’s notebook and copied Celon’s directions as quickly as she could write. “We met Norasynia on the road, actually. She was not entirely unreasonable, at least compared to Farboriel, that winged bastard.”
Celeon set his jaw. “Yeah, after that, things get tricky. Above Lo’Alarai, up in the treetops, is the home of the winged elves. Lord Farboriel is their leader, and you’ll need his name too. Honestly, he hates hornkin more than just about anyone, and since you dealt with Osk-Ox, you might play that to your advantage. To him, a hornkin in an elven city? That’s like a small declaration of war.” He paused, looking down at the table where Asp scribbled his words. “And then there’s Lo’Dorei, the desert elf capital. At least, it was until the desert overtook it. The desert elves are . . . they’re warriors. They want to fight. I’d say that they’re the least likely to sign. Their leader, Lady Eerith, may not care how many signatures you have. They all think that killing is their purpose, especially killing Ronan’el. Crossing that treaty line was a gift to them, I’m afraid to say. Getting them to stop will be like taking the swim out of a fish.”
“Who else?” asked Asp, inkpen poised over the paper of her notebook.
“That’s everybody,” said Celeon. “So, their punishment for you was to try this treaty?”
Asp smiled sheepishly. “Would you believe me if I said I suggested it?”
Celeon guffawed openly. “You did, huh? Any regrets yet?”
Asp laughed too. “Not yet. But from what you’re describing, I think I might soon.” They sat smiling over the craziness of her task for a quiet moment. “Hey, you know who I saw the other day? Madris.”
Celeon cackled. “How’s she doing?”
Asp grinned devilishly. “Fine enough, I’d say. She was in a chain gang outside the city, splitting rocks. I made fun of her for a while, and she threw a pickaxe at me.”
Celeon laughed harder, slapping his knee. “Good. A little justice for her has been a long time coming. She worried about splitting rocks with that stone face of hers? What if a fellow inmate mistakes her for quarry?”
They laughed together again, both prizing the reprieve from harsher responsibilities.
“Hey, who’s that tall guy with you?” asked Celeon. “In the cloak?”
Asp chuckled and sighed. “You probably wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
Celeon raised an eyebrow. “You told me you’re in charge of ending a millennia-old war, and that guy is the unbelievable part?”
Asp shrugged. “His identity isn’t my place to say, anyway. But he’s gonna be really important for our mission. The Ronan’el appointed him as an official emissary.”
“Fair enough,” said Celeon. “So, the next time I see you, who’re you gonna be? Just so I’m ready.”
Asp shook a few times in stifled laughter. “At this point, I don’t even know. Just keep an eye out for dashing, clever hiskin.”
“Oh, so there’s no guarantee you’ll even be a slightkin?” Celeon smiled at her teasingly.
“No guarantees whatsoever,” replied Asp. “For all I know, I’ll be a certified healer ordained by an old god.”
They laughed together again.
“I should go extricate Sash and Steel-Eyes from the crowd,” said Asp sadly. “It’s nice to see you.”
“You too,” replied Celeon. “Don’t be a stranger.”
Asp hopped off the chair and passed into the main room, waving a goodbye to Celeon as she went. She grabbed Steel-Eyes and Sash by the cuffs and practically dragged them away from their adoring fans, Larkin and Kast following behind.
“Whew,” breathed Sash. “They sure were happy to see us.”
“Too happy,” muttered Steel-Eyes sourly.
“They seemed nice,” replied Larkin.
“You get what we came for?” asked Kast.
“I did,” said Asp. “We have a lot to discuss. Apparently our best bet is either Lo’Alarai or Lo’Thalas, and we should talk strategy before we commit to one or the other.”
“The main road out of town goes towards both,” said Sash.
“Let’s get out of town before we talk,” said Kast nervously. “Don’t want any prying ears to hear.”
“Sounds like a plan,” said Asp. “Let’s get on the road and discuss.”
Larkin got in front of Asp and walked backwards so as to face the slightkin while they left town. “Did I see our little Penelope give a bunch of money to someone?”
“It was nothing,” said Asp, blushing but smiling. “Just helping someone out.”
“Ooooooo–Penelope did a good thing!” cried Larkin.
“Don’t get used to it,” said Asp. “It was just a little favor for someone who reminded me of home.”
They continued on the road out of town, Larkin prodding at Asp for her good deed, and Asp had to admit to herself that she still felt surprisingly good about helping Mrs. Button.
—
They had walked for most of the day, taking lunch while they marched, before they were clear enough of other travelers on the road to satisfy Kast’s desire for privacy to discuss things. But by that time, the sun was beginning to set, and they had agreed that bedding down for the night was probably for the best. Larkin led the way off the main road, through an outcropping of trees, and into a small clearing by a creek that shot off from the river further away.
“I’ll gather some firewood,” volunteered Asp.
“I’ll see what I can do in the way of food,” said Kast, lowering his hood for the first time since they’d spoken to Arokosiel.
“I’ll–” began Larkin before furrowing her eyebrows and shrugging. “I’ll roll out my bedroll!”
“It does sound as though everything is covered,” said Sash.
Steel-Eyes simply sat down on the ground, Guy standing over him. Asp chuckled to herself at the dwarf’s continued sourness at having been surrounded by people earlier in the day and set off for firewood.
She walked around the nearby trees, loading sticks and branches of various sizes into her arms. She had learned from her time on the road in recent weeks that a good fire was built, not simply started, and that meant an escalating size of kindling to small branches to logs. After three loads of firewood, she brought the smallest of her finds to a patch of dirt and built a cone of sticks with a bed of branches beneath it. Larkin pulled out a flint and struck it a few times against a small steel rod, and soon, the kindling was ablaze. Asp loaded the larger branches onto the crackling fire and readied the logs she had hauled back to camp.
Kast returned once the fire was healthy and hissing and popping. He laid out his work on a stone near the fire–berries, root vegetables, and some yellow mushrooms–and sat.
“So,” he said quietly, “strategy.”
“Right,” said Asp, turning away from proudly staring into the fire she had built. “Celeon says our first step could either be the mountain elves since their leader is pretty reasonable, or we go to Lo’Alarai and let Norasynia know what we’re up to, and talk to this old man, Melleon, while we’re there. He says Melleon could be of help to us, get us an in with Norasynia.”
“Why would we want to talk to Norasynia?” asked Larkin.
“She might be more willing to work with us if we are straightforward about things,” explained Asp.
“When do elves like to be straightforward,” muttered Steel-Eyes.
“Information is what we lack at the moment,” said Sash. “And Norasynia’s agreement matters most, as she is the highest leader among the elves.”
“If she said no at this point, though,” said Kast, placing the root vegetables at the edge of the fire, “it could doom the whole mission.”
“So it’s another gamble?” asked Larkin.
“Basically,” said Asp. “I mean, I think that the game we’re playing with Norasynia is pretty much diplomatic intimidation. If we have Leonarra’s signature from a trip to the mountains, we have two of her leaders on board. But that could also seem sneaky. If we go to her with an introduction from Melleon, we might be able to get her on board, and then getting the other leaders to agree would be easier. It’s a matter of who we’re more afraid of. If we think Norasynia is going to be a tough sell, we go to Leonarra. If we think the other leaders are more of a problem, Norasynia is the best bet.”
Steel-Eyes grunted. “Norasynia does not seem as bad as the others.”
“She was less of a psychopath on the road,” said Asp. “And with Melleon’s help, she might even be reasonable.”
“You spoke with Norasynia already?” asked Kast, equal parts dubious and surprised.
“Not on purpose,” said Sash. “We were leaving Lo’Torrin, and we ran into her on the way to the border.”
Kast stared into the fire, watching the root vegetables darken. “I know the Ronan’el better than the elves, but if someone brought Bruzohr’s approval attached to something to another leader, they’d be hard-pressed to say no.”
“Is he the big boss?” asked Larkin.
“More informally than formally,” replied Kast. “But they listen to him more than the rest. If they have one lone leader, it’s him.”
“Anyone opposed to Lo’Alarai, then?” asked Asp. “Find Melleon, speak to Norasynia, hope that she helps us rather than hurts us?”
The group was silent for a moment.
“I’m in,” said Larkin.
“I suppose so,” added Sash.
“Okay,” replied Steel-Eyes.
Kast shrugged. “Why not?” He pulled the vegetables from beside the fire and began to cut them up before distributing them and the mushrooms and berries he’d found. Everyone began to eat, and Kast turned to Asp. “So how’d you get Celeon to tell you all of this? Is he just a helpful guy?”
“He’s helpful, yeah,” said Asp. “And I knew him already.”
“As Penelope,” Steel-Eyes half-asked.
“Yeah,” said Kast, “were you Penelope back in Lo’Torrin before you set out for the border?”
“She was Delia when I met her,” said Sash.
Kast narrowed his eyes at Asp. “Who are you, really?”
Asp sighed. I’ve never really worked with non-criminals. This is complicated. She looked her allies in the eyes–Larkin’s sweet but curious smile, Sash’s puzzlement, Steel-Eyes’s scowl, Kast’s sternness. I guess I have to trust them.
“I’m–” She stopped short. The term felt gross to her, which was odd given how proud she had been of saying it back in Strey. She tried again. “I’m . . . a con artist. Delia is a character I do to get information, to get people talking. Penelope is another character–she’s for bargaining, for getting people to listen to me. I have another, Gilbert, this newtkin inventor guy. He’s for when someone insists on talking to a man, or for when I need to be an outsider or hard to read. Sometimes I just make up a name, but usually it’s one of them.” She paused and let her gaze rest on the fire, and her pride in building it seemed to have ebbed away. “Like I said before, which was honest, people have never given me anything. No one cares about some random slightkin girl with no honest job. No one helps you when you’re down and out, and I’ve always been down and out. The characters are, well, a way to be someone else, someone people have a reason to pay attention to, to work with. You can judge all you want, but you don’t know. I was hungry every day growing up. My parents were poor. I ran away from home and lived on the streets. I started conning people, and that was the first time I had food in my belly and a roof over my head. It’s all I ever really had, being these characters.” She sighed, more truth coming out of her than she meant to provide. “I know it’s not, like, good to do. I know it hurts people. I know I’ve let people down. But it’s basically all I know.”
“You know how to be a reporter,” offered Larkin.
“Not really, I don’t,” said Asp. “I know how to target people with negative stories, and I know how to sell scams with fake ads like you saw. But real reporting? I wouldn’t even know where to begin.” She sighed again, heavier this time. “And look, I’ve been trying to help people. I helped save those kids, right? I’m trying to end this war, right? I’ve done other things, too.”
“Like give money to that slightkin lady,” said Larkin.
“Yeah, like that!” cried Asp. “I know you all don’t like it, and I am promising, right here, right now, no more scams, no more cons, nothing that hurts people. I’m sorry for that. It’s what I know, and I will give it up for all of you and for the sake of this mission, but I won’t apologize for being who I am.”
There was silence for a moment. Then Kast spoke.
“No one is asking you to.” His voice was firm but gentle.
Asp crossed her arms and kept staring into the fire.
“So what’s your real name?” asked Larkin.
Asp shrugged. “You mean like, the name that people who really know me use?”
“Do we not really know you now,” grunted Steel-Eyes.
“I guess so,” said Asp. “My old friends back in Strey and Thistlewade called me Asp.”
“Like the snake?” asked Larkin.
“Yeah,” said Asp tiredly, “like the snake. Its poison feels good as it kills you. So like, my victims are happy about it. Get it?”
“That’s quite the metaphor,” said Sash uneasily.
“What did your parents call you?” asked Larkin.
Asp frowned. “No one has called me that in a long time. And I’m wanted by that name in a lot of places, so it’s better you don’t know.”
“Got caught a few times, then?” asked Kast.
Asp’s tone was sharper than she meant it to be. “No. I got turned in.”
“Isn’t that like being caught?” asked Larkin.
“Not by the people I conned,” said Asp.
“By who then,” muttered Steel-Eyes.
“By my old gang leader. By my fucking mom,” spat Asp.
They sat in silence again for a moment.
“That reminds me of a story,” said Larkin eventually. “I heard about this hornkin girl. She was very sweet and good, and her dad was a very, very bad man who wanted her to be bad too, like the cult he made. He would hurt people, and sometimes, this hornkin girl would go and help the people he hurt. And when he found out, he said that this girl was naughty. Very naughty.” Larkin swallowed hard, her normally cheery tone dwindling into sadness. “And so one day, this mean hornkin dad said, ‘no more!’ and he took his daughter, who was so very naughty, and he threw her down a well. And she stayed there for a long time because she realized she was so naughty, but one day, she got mad. And she decided to be really, really naughty. And she got out of the well, and she went to her very mean dad, and she killed him. And then she ran away, and the whole cult she was from fell apart, and she decided to not be naughty anymore. And that’s how this hornkin girl decided to be nice.” Larkin smiled, but the smile was tinged with an unmistakable look of regret.
“That’s a very sad story,” said Asp.
“I’m so sorry,” said Sash.
“Sorry?” said Larkin defensively. “Why would you be sorry? It’s just about some hornkin girl I don’t know and never met, and she’s definitely not me, and it’s all just a story and maybe even not real, like at all, and nobody knows.”
“Right,” said Asp, trying to divert the conversation to spare Larkin any more discomfort. “Sash, you have any stories?”
Sash seemed startled at first, but then they grasped what Asp was trying to do. “Stories,” they said, deep in thought. “Sure, I know a story. Once, when I was a young elf, I took a trip to the archipelago. I had never been before, and I had only heard stories. People said that Godtide Sasharaan lived there in spirit, and because I was a traveler, I decided to go. When I got there, the archipelago called to me. It felt like something I had never felt before.” Their face was awash in pleasant memories, something that evaded being put into words. “I swam in the waters, and my skin felt complete for the first time. I explored the reef, and I saw so many creatures I had never seen but would learn like my own hands one day. And I heard a rumbling like ocean waves, but it wasn’t the ocean. I knew in my heart it was Godtide Sasharaan. So I took my name, and I pledged myself to the archipelago, and I proved myself in the great trials, and as my youth ended, I became a protector of the reef.” They took their waterskin and a small bowl from their pack and poured some of the waterskin’s contents into the bowl before resting one hand in the bowl. “My entire adult life has been spent protecting that archipelago because it is all that is holy to me. And being away from it has left me feeling empty, like a shallow pool at low tide. But I suspect that it is for the best, and I pray that one day I will return to my home and once again care for the creatures of the reef.”
“That sounds lovely,” said Asp. “Steel-Eyes, what about you? Any stories?”
The dwarf grunted and fell silent. They sat for a time, unsure whether he was formulating an answer or if his grunt had been a no, but then Steel-Eyes began to speak in a low, rumbling voice.
“Steel-Eyes made many things. Armor that repels blades. Helmets that expand vision. Amulets that increase strength. One day, Steel-Eyes had idea for a big project. Needed more than just Steel-Eyes.” He paused, scratching at his beard. “Needed an assistant. But no one will work with Steel-Eyes. Say Steel-Eyes is too demanding. Foolish thing to say. Steel-Eyes knows how to get results. Everyone wants results. No one wants to work.” He paused again. “Steel-Eyes decides needs assistant who will help. Makes Guy from metal and magic and work. Guy not perfect at first. Arms wobbly, doesn’t follow directions well. Steel-Eyes is sad. Every project before perfect. Works on Guy. Works hard. Guy better this time. Follows directions, arms strong. Guy helps Steel-Eyes with big project. Big project very big success. Guy follows Steel-Eyes everywhere. Best friend.” He paused, and Guy leaned in as if to punctuate his point. A minute later, the group realized Steel-Eyes’s story was done.
“I love best friends!” cried Larkin.
“Guy is good best friend,” said Steel-Eyes proudly.
“Kast?” asked Asp. “You got a story for us?”
“I’m not the story type,” said Kast.
“Oh, c’mon,” pestered Asp. “We all told one. You gotta.”
Kast sighed. “Fine. When I was growing up, I had a friend. She was a purple-and-blue Ronan’el. She was destined for high society. Unlike other Ronan’el, she didn’t treat me like an outsider. We were best friends. Her name was Grat.” His voice nearly faltered on her name. He took a moment and continued in a clearer voice. “All through our educations, we were close. When people wanted to find one of us, they would also look for the other. We were an unlikely pair. You know me–I’m gruff. I’m rough around the edges. I’m not like most Ronan’el. But she was refined. Eloquent. The perfect picture of what her clan wanted her to be.” His eyes stared into the fire, but Asp could tell he was not really paying attention to it. “The day came that we were assigned roles in society. In Ronan’el culture, this is done at the Table, where I assume you negotiated with the tribunal. The god of her clan, Caracor, spoke directly to our leaders. He decreed she was to be an archivist, the personal attendant of Abzal, who you met. That makes her the heir to the clan. But Caracor spoke to her directly. I don’t know the words he used, but I know what he told her. He told her who I am, what I am meant to do. Her back was to me when she learned all this. She never turned around. I haven’t seen her face since, and I imagine I never will again.” He fell silent.
After a respectable pause, Asp spoke. “If our mission goes well, you may see her again.”
Kast’s face did not change, but something in his eyes told Asp that he was fighting a strong feeling, something that threatened to overtake him. A moment’s silence passed, and then Kast spoke. “We should bed down for the night. It’s getting late. I’ll take first watch.”
The party sat looking at Kast, Sash and Larkin in pity, Steel-Eyes in silent comprehension, and Asp in understanding. “I’ll take second watch,” she said.
Kast stalked from the fire and stood at the perimeter of their little campsite.
“Anybody want more dinner?” asked Larkin, pointing to the rock where Kast had made dinner. A few cooked potatoes and some mushrooms remained.
A silence answered Larkin. The group slowly settled in for the night, and as the fire crackled away, Asp digested the stories her comrades had told. Larkin has some baggage about being an outsider. Sash lives for one purpose, which makes them an outsider. Steel-Eyes is an outsider, but he can make all he needs. Though he won’t admit it, it bothers Kast that he’s an outsider. And what about me? I’ve always been an outsider, and I’ve chosen to relish that. But has it served me? Will it serve me? Do I have to be an outsider? Are we all outsiders if we’re outsiders together?
These questions danced in Asp’s mind as she watched the stars above twinkle in the night. Some time after the fire had begun to die down, she dropped off to sleep, and no answers to her questions had come.
—
“Wake up, Penelope, or Asp, or whatever I should call you.” Kast was gently shaking Asp awake.
She rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “Penelope’s fine,” she mumbled. “Cuts down on the chance of you using the wrong name in front of someone.”
“Sure,” said Kast, his tone neutral.
“Okay, I’m up,” muttered Asp, rising from her bedroll. “Anything happen on first watch?”
Kast shook his head. “You gonna be able to deal with anything that comes into camp?”
“I got it,” said Asp, glancing around camp. Larkin, Sash, and Steel-Eyes were fast asleep, the fire now only embers. “And if anything I can’t handle comes our way, I’ll scream loud enough to wake the dead.”
Kast nodded. “See you in the morning.” He walked several paces away from the others and lay flat on his back. In seconds, he was asleep.
Asp smiled to herself. He was exhausted. Poor guy. I hope this little bit of sleep will be enough for him. I know I’m tired as all get out. With deliberately light steps, she began to pace in large circles around the camp. Every step, she would turn her head, swiveling back and forth to scan the distance, and turning completely around every few steps to ensure she wouldn’t be snuck up on. The hypervigilance of this process quickly roused her to alertness, and for several hours, she worked hard to keep herself from letting her mind wander to planning so that she could focus on the task at hand.
A few times, she thought she heard footsteps or a branch snap just outside the perimeter of camp. Each time, thoroughly tense, she would stalk off in the direction of the sound and try to find its source. But each time, she couldn’t find much of anything. Just a figment of my imagination, she would decide. Paranoia thanks to being on guard. We’re fine.
As the night sky began its first paling for the coming dawn, she again heard what sounded like a footfall. Just my imagination, she assured herself. But to be certain, she turned in the direction and peered into the distance.
Only this time, there was something to see.
An elven man with a long ponytail stood perhaps one hundred feet from the camp. He wore a deep blue robe with silver lining and embroidery, a robe Asp recognized. His handsome face and ashen blonde hair were recognizable too.
“Dumas?” asked Asp, shocked not only to see someone but especially to see him again.
He wore a wry smile. “Hello, traveler.”
“What are you– Are you following us?” she stammered.
“Not following,” he said, still smiling. “But asking a favor.”
“What?” asked Asp, fighting panic. “What favor?”
“I’m weary from traveling,” he said with a smirk. “And I’m very hungry.”
She studied his face. His smile was the same as ever–he looked pleased, as though there was a joke that only he knew the punchline to–but his eyes were weary, and his posture said he was tired.
“Wait here a second,” she said. She quietly dashed back to camp, scooped up the remains of last night’s dinner, and ran them back to Dumas. She had half-expected him to have disappeared, but he was exactly where she left him. She gingerly offered the food to him as though he would strike her unexpectedly. But he took the food and began to eat.
“Thank you,” he said between bites. “I wasn’t sure if you would help.”
“You were trying to help us before,” she said uncertainly. “Right?”
He finished one of the potatoes. “You’re helping me because I was trying to help you?”
“No,” she said. “Well, kind of. I mean, you look like you need help.”
“That’s a very different reason to help someone,” he said as he devoured the mushrooms.
“Well,” she replied, “I guess because I’m in a position to help. We had extra food.”
“That’s a third reason.” Dumas smiled at her and began on the last potato.
“Why– why are you like this?” she asked. “Can’t you just say something direct?”
Dumas’s lips turned up into an even wryer smile. “You mean like you do?”
She scowled. “Fine! I helped you because you tried to help us, and because you seem to need help, and we had food left over. It would be silly not to help.”
Dumas’s eyes lit up. “My child, it is always silly not to help.”
His words sank in as he finished the food. He raised his eyebrows in what seemed to be an obtuse “thank you” and turned to go.
“Wait!” she cried. “Why are you here?”
He turned his head back toward her, his ever-present smile plastered across his face. “To see if you would help.”
Asp growled in frustration, and Dumas stalked off into the woods beyond the camp. She watched him go and puzzled over what this whole interaction might have meant. Before she could come up with any suitable theories, he was gone.
She walked back to camp and began her methodical circles again. But now her thoughts were distracted. For nearly an hour, she puzzled over his reappearance, and as the morning light overtook the night, her comrades began to stir. Sash was the first to rise.
“Morning,” they said. “Anything interesting happen?”
Asp nodded. “Nothing dangerous. At least, I don’t think so.” She shrugged. “I’ll tell you about it when everyone’s awake.”
Sash nodded, a curious look in their eye, and said nothing.
Soon, Steel-Eyes stirred and began tinker with Guy. Larkin stretched and rose not long after. Kast woke and lay still for a minute, then stood.
“Did you see anything on your watch?” he asked.
Sash watched Asp intently. She breathed deeply, Larkin and Steel-Eyes turning to her in her hesitation to answer. “Dumas,” she said after a moment. “He came back.”
“The guy from the swamp?” asked Larkin uneasily.
“Yeah,” said Asp. “He came up to the camp, and I went out to him, and we talked. He asked for food, so I gave him the leftovers from dinner, and then he left.”
The group listened further, and when she said nothing more, Kast asked, “What did he say?”
Asp shrugged, still clearly perturbed by the encounter. “He said he wanted a favor–food. And he said he didn’t know if I would help. And then he asked why I helped.”
“Why did you help,” said Steel-Eyes.
Asp sighed. “I dunno. Because he said he was hungry, and it was the right thing to do, and because I could help.”
Kast nodded. “So you’re saying a strange man who you met once before you came to you, and you seem to be afraid of him, and you spoke to him, gave him our food, and didn’t wake us?”
Asp stared at the ground. “It’s not like that. The first time we met him, he was . . . well, he was weird. He always had this little smile on his face like he knew a secret. And he warned us about the Pale Gardener, who I’m pretty sure we met shortly thereafter, and she was a bigger weirdo. He didn’t seem like a threat. Just odd. And he wasn’t threatening either time. He said it would be a favor to feed him, and we had those potatoes left over, and he left without doing anything strange, so what’s the issue?”
“Steel-Eyes is not afraid of Dumas,” said the dwarf confidently. “He is old man with warning. Nothing bad.”
“Yeah,” said Larkin, “he wasn’t a bad guy. Besides, if he was hungry, feeding him was the right thing to do.”
“It just sounds strange,” said Kast quietly. “What purpose would he have in following us around?”
“It strikes me as off too,” said Asp. “But I don’t regret what I did.”
Kast shrugged. “Our mission is vital. We should be cautious.”
“Right,” agreed Asp, “we should be on extra special guard moving forward.”
“Dumas isn’t a bad guy,” said Larkin again. “We don’t need to worry about him.”
Kast chewed his lip. “Okay, me and Penelope think we need to be careful. Larkin, you and Steel-Eyes don’t. Sash,” he said, turning to the elf,” what do you think?”
Sash considered a moment in silence. After a time, they said, “We have real threats to deal with. A whole war, elven leaders, traveling safely and quickly. I don’t think Dumas is a real threat.”
They all stood quietly. “Okay then,” said Kast, “we keep moving.” He turned to Asp. “I’m not upset, but maybe next time, you wake us up.”
Asp almost responded, but swallowed it. He’s not saying he doesn’t trust me. Relax. I’m feeling vulnerable since I kinda put it all on the line last night. It’s Kast. He’s just being careful.
The group packed their things and hiked back to the road without speaking. Asp stewed over Kast’s suggestion, but no part of her regretted feeding Dumas. The more time passed, the more convinced she became that what she had done was right.
What is this feeling? she asked herself. I usually feel these pangs of doubt after I do something. But lately–when I put up those flyers, when I offered to help the Ronan’el, when I helped Pearl, when I fed Dumas–I don’t. What is that? Why do I feel different?
She puzzled over it as they marched down the road, and she came to no conclusion.
—
After an hour’s journey, the group reached a split in the road. A sign pointed back the way they came, reading “Lo’Torrin.” One path before them led to some of other provinces of the elven territories, and the signposts at the fork read “Lo’Thalas” and “Lo’Dorei.” The other direction had only one sign: “Lo’Alarai.” They continued down that road, and the forests in the distance grew thicker, taller, and nearer.
“Those are some big trees,” said Larkin as if to herself.
Kast nodded. “We’re getting close.”
We’re all feeling the weight of the mission. A little conversation will get our spirits up.
“So, Larkin,” said Asp, “what’s it like growing up as a hornkin?”
Larkin, who was a few steps ahead of Asp, spun and faced her, walking backwards to keep stride. “Oh, you know, it’s fun.”
“Fun,” said Steel-Eyes. “Fun how.”
Larkin shrugged and laughed, turning to face forward again. “Like, there are no rules. Only there are rules. Like, listen to your dad because he’s in charge of everybody but he’s especially in charge of you. And you gotta be mean sometimes because those are the rules. And no learning to heal people!” She spun in a circle, and Asp saw that her face was sad, though her voice did not betray that. “And there are other rules, too. But mostly, there are no rules!”
“Why can’t you heal people?” asked Sash.
“Well, the rules are that hurting people is good,” said Larkin. “At least where I come from. And so helping people is bad. Only very naughty hornkin help people.”
“You healed the Ronan’el in the boat,” Steel-Eyes pointed out.
“Yeah,” said Larkin. “But I’m a bad hornkin. I dunno. I just like to help people. That’s part of why I ran away.”
“And because you killed your dad,” said Steel-Eyes.
“What?!” cried Larkin, horror on her face. “Not me.”
“You said last night about the hornkin who killed her dad,” countered Steel-Eyes. “And the well-throwing and everything.”
“No, no, no,” said Larkin in what was clearly assumed horror. “That wasn’t me. That was just a story.”
“Just a hornkin who had a lot in common with you,” Asp chimed in. “Not you, but someone with some similarities.”
“Exactly!” cried Larkin. “Just a made-up story that wasn’t true at all about someone who happens to be like me in some ways. But not all ways! It wasn’t me.”
“Right,” said Steel-Eyes, and even his normally toneless voice dripped with sarcasm.
“Sash, you told us about finding the archipelago last night,” said Asp. “What about before?”
Sash shrugged. “There is no before anymore. I am only Sasharaan, protector of the reef.”
“Okay,” said Asp. “Steel-Eyes? How did you become an inventor?”
Steel-Eyes grunted. “I decided to.”
“That makes sense,” Asp said. “Kast, you wanna talk about your childhood?”
Kast kept marching without turning to acknowledge the question. Just as Asp was preparing to change the subject, he spoke. “I was poked and prodded by the Ronan’el. They believed I was the product of something unholy. It was years before they understood what I knew as a child–that I am something different. Something outside this realm. A confusing combination forged in a different dimension.”
These people are not the best conversationalists, thought Asp. I have to bring up the mood myself.
“What about you, Penelope?” asked Larkin. “What were you like as a kid?”
Asp went to a faraway place. In her mind, she was once again roaming the streets of Thistlewade, her belly empty and her head full. She forced herself back into the moment. “Oh, you know, typical poor kid stuff. My dad was a carpenter, and he was almost never home. My mom was . . . she was rough. She worked as a seamstress sometimes, but mostly she just yelled at me for being a little terror. Which I was.” She got a few laughs at this. “Seriously, I was. I would go out and beg or steal or just cause trouble. And when I got old enough that I thought I could take care of myself, I ran away from home. I stole to get by. I lived in a tree.” Larkin tittered. “I did! I was the little monster who slept up in the tree branches by night and bothered vendors by day. And one day, I realized that lying was a less risky way to get what I wanted than stealing. So I taught myself to be good at it. By the time I was your age, Larkin, I had a nice little house and some savings and a kitten.”
“Oooh! Kitten!” cried Larkin. “What was its name?”
Asp smiled, then braced herself for the pain of missing Iris. It came, but it was softer than she was used to. She realized it had been nearly five years since she’d lost Iris. I guess you get numb to it after a while. Then the thought struck that one day, she wouldn’t miss Iris at all, and she fought back tears.
“Penelope?” asked Larkin. “What was its name?”
“Iris.” Asp managed to keep her voice clear of emotion, but a deep sadness raged inside her. She fought it down and continued. “I got really good at cons. I had so much extra money at one point that I bought part of a winery.”
“Really?” asked Kast. “A whole winery?”
“Thimblefull Vineyards,” replied Asp. Visions of the vineyard’s stewards and her business partners, Rick and Ginger, danced in her head, and she fought back more threatening tears. “We made all kinds of stuff, but our specialty was fruit wines. Sometimes, the vintners would make special bottles just for me. It really was the best wine I’ve ever had. I actually found a bottle of it back on the Myriad on my way out to Afira. It tasted like home.”
“What happened to the vineyard?” asked Sash.
“Oh, they’re still doing their thing,” explained Asp. “I heard they expanded last year into Strey and the Myriad. That’s how I ended up finding their stuff.”
“Wow,” said Larkin. “That’s so cool! How come you don’t talk to them anymore?”
Asp bit her lip. “I got run outta Eunax. My, uh . . .” She paused and collected herself, trying to keep the story light. “My mom tried to turn me in to the guards. I ran away. I got on a boat to Strey and started over. Joined a gang, made some friends, had some adventures.”
“So how’d you end up leaving Strey if you had such a good setup?” asked Kast.
Asp sighed. “I got run outta Strey, too. My gang leader made a boneheaded call and tried to turn me in to the guards.”
“But that didn’t work,” chirped Larkin, a touch of exhilaration in her voice.
“Sure didn’t,” said Asp. “I got on a boat to the Myriad. That was over a year ago now.”
“And you started over, made some friends, made a new life,” mused Larkin.
“Something like that,” said Asp.
“And then someone tried to turn you in to the guards,” said Steel-Eyes.
“Not exactly,” said Asp. Visions of her jail cell constricted around her. She felt her vision swim, and her lungs were choked with fear and pain. She cleared her throat. “I–you know, I think that’s a story for another time.” She breathed deeply. “So, Sash, why’d you agree to do this whole mission?”
Sash shrugged. “It seemed the right thing to do. Ending violence based on hatred–that is a good mission to have if I’m to be separated from my home.”
“Definitely,” said Larkin. “I wanna do something good for a whole bunch of people at once. I think it’ll be the right thing to do.”
“Steel-Eyes?” asked Asp.
The dwarf grunted. “Steel-Eyes thinks war is stupid. So many people die. For what. Why so much death. No point to it all. If they will not choose peace, Steel-Eyes will help them choose peace.” He continued walking, then cocked his head to the side. “Or make them choose peace.”
Asp laughed, although the word “make” and the tone Steel-Eyes had used unnerved her. “Kast?”
Kast chuckled. “I was born for this.”
“Fair enough,” said Asp.
“The real question is,” said Kast, “why did you agree to do this?”
Asp laughed. “I suggested this.”
“But why?” asked Kast. “What stake do you have in all this? Why stake your life on something that has nothing to do with you?” He laughed bitterly. “Was it because your life was on the line?”
Asp flinched at his accusation, but she wasn’t sure he was wrong. She searched within herself. After a moment, she spoke quietly. “To be honest, in the moment, it was a snap decision. I was saying what I thought they wanted to hear. That’s what a good con is–you offer someone something they want so bad that they can’t say no to it.” She paused and breathed deeply. “But the longer this mission goes on, the more I think there was something else behind it. In Thistlewade, I was out for myself. I admit that. In Strey, I kept doing more and more to be good to people, to help when my needs were met.” She swallowed hard. “In the Myriad, all of my time–all of it–was dedicated to trying to do the right thing, even when it was miserable. I think I’m just . . . changing. I think when I offered to try to end the war, that was some part deep within me that wanted to do the right thing. Like all of you. I think I’m trying to get better, and it’s hard, and there’s setbacks, and I’m not doing it perfectly every time. I’m sorry for that, I really am. But I’m trying. And maybe if I do something really big that’s truly good, I can make up for what I’ve done wrong.”
“You cannot erase your past,” said Steel-Eyes, though his tone was more gentle than usual.
“I can’t,” said Asp. “But a long time ago, when I was in Strey, I met this old woman. Her name was Patience. I remember I bumped into her in the middle of the night in an alleyway. I accidentally knocked her beggar’s cup out of her hand. I helped her picked up her coins, and I gave her everything I was carrying at the time. She told me, ‘Penance is not bought for nothing. Penance is earned.’ And then she told me to make amends if I wanted to set things right. I’ll never forget that.” She sighed. “I told her about a job opening at the docks before we parted ways. She said I was paying penance. And then, not too long after, my gang leader ran me out of town. And you wanna guess who was working at the docks the day I had to make a run for it?”
Larkin turned back to Asp, her eyes wide. “It was Patience?”
Asp smiled. “It was Patience. See, that was some random encounter. I bumped into her by chance. But I did the right thing, and things turned out okay. We bumbled across the treaty line. We had no real way of knowing what would happen. And we ended up in front of the tribunal, and the first thing that came to mind was, ‘let me try to fix this.’ I think I was supposed to be there. I think I spoke from the heart, and my heart wants to do better. I think I can’t erase my past, like you said, Steel-Eyes. I’ll never be able to undo all the hurt I caused. But if I start doing my best to make amends, I think that’s the best I can do.”
They continued to march down the road, drawing ever nearer the thick of the forest ahead. Where did that come from? Was I lying? Do I mean all of that? She stewed for a moment. I think I do. I think it’s time to get serious. No more taking advantage for myself. I use what I know to help, and that’s it. She considered the elven leaders and how likely they would be to sign the treaty. I mean, I can manipulate them for the greater good. But no more innocent people. She forced herself to smile as her old self battled this new resolution. Oh, what use is the name Asp anymore? I don’t want to be someone who looks for victims. I gotta think of a new name for myself.
As their group marched into the late morning and the city gates of Lo’Alarai loomed in the distance, she cycled through names she might adopt, but nothing felt right. It’ll come to me. When the moment is right, I’ll know.
As the unlikely party approached the city of the wood elves, Asp felt a small weight slip off her shoulders, as though something she had long carried had become so familiar she no longer noticed its presence, but certainly recognized its absence.
“You all ready?” asked Kast, slipping to the back of the group.
Sash nodded.
“Yes,” said Steel-Eyes.
“You got it!” chirped Larkin.
“I’m ready,” said Asp, and she was.
You can read the next chapter here!
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