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Asp and Larkin headed for the front door of the massive farmhouse. Larkin casually grabbed a sword the fallen vampire had used and tucked it into her belt. As they passed into the entryway, they encountered Marlowe, who was just finishing adding some defensive fortifications to the house–she was boarding up the windows, and a barricade sat beside the door, ready to be shifted into the frame to block any potential intruders.
Looking at Marlowe’s pale skin, Asp’s mind flashed to earlier. She could see her blade ripping through the back of the human thrall, her hand plunging inside with the silver coins clutched in her palm, the blood on her hand as she withdrew it. She fought back nausea.
“Hey Marlowe,” she said as easily as she could manage. “Those thralls–how much like us are they?”
Marlowe chuckled. “You mean like you? ‘Cause you and I ain’t really the same.” She grinned, her pointed canines jutting outward at Asp and Larkin.
Asp laughed nervously. “Yeah. Sorry. Like me, I mean.”
Marlowe smiled and shook her head, hammering more planks to the barricade. “They’re about as much like you as they are like me. They’re not vampires, that’s for sure. I saw your little coin gambit–it was clever, but thralls don’t get hurt from silver like a vampire does. They’re not stronger, quicker, more cunning like us. But they’re sure as shit not like you, either. They don’t think for themselves anymore. They don’t feel the same way you do. Pain, sure, but that’s about it. They’re just . . . vessels.” She paused her work. “Why do you ask?”
Asp looked at the floor, then up at Larkin. She bit her lip. “I don’t want to have hurt someone.”
Marlowe grinned. “They’re not someones anymore, kid. They’re more monster than person. You’re fine.” She resumed hammering away at the barricade.
“That’s good to hear. I feel better knowing that,” said Asp, and knowing she was lying stung deeply. “What else do we need to do here?”
Marlowe chuckled. “Me and Auberon’s work is done. We’re vampire hunters, and Lo’Enthias seems to be out of vampires. We’ll move along to the next bloodsuckers we can find. Feel free to enjoy the house as a base for as long as you need to stay–should be fortified enough to keep you safe for a while.”
“Nice to meet you!” chirped Larkin.
“Yeah, it was good working with you,” said Asp. “Thanks for the pointers.”
Marlowe flashed her pointed fangs. “I’ve got excellent pointers, I’m told. And it was good working with you too.”
Larkin fidgeted. “Pretzel time?”
Asp smiled back at her. “Pretzel time. Let’s go.”
They strolled out the door past Marlowe’s barricade and out into the fields. They walked silently for a time, the dead cornfields lending an uncomfortable aura to their walk that both of them stubbornly resisted. Once they were back on the road into Lo'Enthias, the aura lifted, and Larkin began to chatter excitedly.
“I wonder if they have any new games at the carnival,” she said with a smile. “I mean, I hope the festival is still happening. It was so fun yesterday.”
Asp cocked an eyebrow. “Yesterday? Weren’t we there a few hours ago?”
Larkin giggled. “Silly Penelope. We were at the carnival yesterday afternoon. Then we went to the tavern with Marlowe and Auberon in the evening. Then the farmhouse was last night. We fought those mean vampires til almost morning. And you went off by yourself for a couple hours. Now it’s tomorrow.” She frowned. “Today, I mean.”
A couple hours? thought Asp. I was praying for hours? It felt like ten minutes. Damn. What happened back there?
Unsure of what to do with this realization, Asp tried changing the subject. “Any idea where we’re gonna find someone who knows about the In-Between? I mean, I hadn’t even really heard it described as a real place until today–I mean, yesterday. I thought it was just where stories about faeries were supposed to take place.”
Larkin giggled again. “Nope! The In-Between is real. That’s where faeries come from.”
Asp laughed with her. “No, I mean, like . . . I thought faeries were just for kids’ stories. I didn’t think they were real.”
Larkin looked at Asp as though the slightkin were making a joke. “Faeries not real? Gosh, that would be a boring world. Hey look–a milk bottle game!” Larkin dashed ahead towards a booth where a young newtkin boy was setting up a tower of steel bottles on a pedestal while a wily elven girl wound up to throw a sack at an identical stack on a pedestal next to it. Asp smiled as Larkin ran ahead, shaking her head to herself.
What a good kid Larkin is. I don’t know how she can fight vampires all night and still get excited to chuck a bag at bottles.
Larkin played a round of the game while Asp caught up. On Larkin’s second throw, she knocked the two remaining bottles she’d missed on her first throw off the pedestal.
“We have a winner!” cried the newtkin boy. “Pick your prize!”
Larkin shrieked in joy and selected a small potted cactus. “New friend!” she shouted, dancing in a circle.
“What’s its name?” asked Asp as she joined the hornkin at the counter.
Larkin laughed. “It’s a plant, silly. Plants don’t have names.”
Asp smiled. “Oh, my mistake. See, slightkin name all their plants. Farmers have a lot of names to remember.”
Larkin doubled over laughing, keeping the cactus level with the ground as she bent. “That’s not true, Penelope.” She looked suddenly serious. “Wait, is it true?”
Asp grinned mischievously. “I’d have you ask my fern, William, but he’s all the way back in Thistlewade.”
Larkin stuck her tongue out at Asp. “Well when I meet William one day, I will.” She scanned the area. “Ooooh! Pretzel time!” She ran from the game counter down the path, and Asp began to follow after.
When Asp caught up again, Larkin was poring over the pretzel options. “Salted garlic,” said Larkin. “Or three cheese! I love cheese. Oh, what about cinnamon sugar?! I love cinnamon sugar. Penelope! He has toasted herb! I love toasted herb.”
“You could get one of each,” suggested Asp.
Larkin turned, her eyes wide. “That’s such a good idea!” She turned to the pretzelmaker, a bearded human man who was smiling at Larkin’s excitement. “I’ll take one of everything.”
“And I’ll have a three cheese,” said Asp.
“A three cheese and one of everything,” repeated the pretzelmaker. “How are you two on this fine summer’s day?”
“Pretty good,” said Larkin. “Aside from having to kill a bunch of vampires and losing our friend, anyway.”
The pretzelmaker furrowed his brow as he prepared the order. “Clearing out our vampire problem is excellent news, but I’m sorry about your friend. May his soul find peace.”
“Oh, he’s not dead,” replied Larkin. “At least, he wasn’t when we lost him. He’s just in the In-Between. You know anything about the In-Between?”
The pretzelmaker chuckled. “Not a thing, really. Just that it’s a wild, unpredictable place full of surprises.”
“I hope we can get there soon,” continued Larkin. “We need our friend to help us.”
“Well, I hope so too,” said the pretzelmaker. He held up a variety of pretzels in thin paper sleeves. “Your pretzels, ladies.”
“Thank you!” cried Larkin, immediately digging into the cinnamon sugar pretzel. “You have a blessed day.”
“Yes, thank you,” echoed Asp. “Idunna’s blessings.”
The pretzelmaker was awestruck. “What did you say?”
Asp held her pretzel and looked back at him innocently. Did I say the wrong thing? “I said, Idunna’s blessings.”
He smiled and relaxed his shoulders. “I haven’t heard that name in a long time. And I’ve never met a slightkin who knew that name.”
Asp shrugged and smiled. “I spent some time on the Myriad. Idunna just stuck with me, I guess.”
He grinned wide. “Huh. Well, that’s lovely to hear. Idunna’s blessings to you too.”
Asp found herself warmly happy. She smiled at the pretzelmaker and nodded.
“Oooh!” cried Larkin. “Another boxing match!” She ran off, carefully clutching her collection of pretzels and her cactus in her arms.
“See you round,” said the pretzelmaker.
“Yeah,” replied Asp. “See you round.” She struck out to follow Larkin once again.
Around the boxing ring, a mass of people had gathered. Their faces showed anticipation and excitement, and a constant murmur rolled through the crowd. The announcer from the day before breathed deeply and shouted, “Your reigning champion, Hemwrek Wraithfist!”
Hemwrek climbed into the ring, ducking between the ropes, his spiked ginger hair narrowly avoiding them. He raised his hands high above his head, and the crowd cheered triumphantly for him.
“Your challenger,” thundered the announcer, “Natari Flametongue!”
Natari dove between the ropes and rolled on the surface of the ring, springing up in a leap and landing gracefully on her feet. Her long black hair tossed this way and that through her acrobatics, and her catlike eyes looked upon Hemwrek playfully. She raised one fist directly overhead, and the crowd went wild.
The two combatants donned their gloves and touched fists before springing back to opposite corners of the ring. They smiled at each other and drove forward. Hemwrek threw a heavy haymaker which Natari dodged easily by leaping backwards, and he drove forward again. He threw a quick left jab and then a heavy right hook; Natari blocked the jab and ducked under the hook. She threw a light punch that landed on Hemwrek’s chest, but he seemed unfazed. He took two quick steps forward and threw another haymaker, which Natari stepped aside to avoid.
“Why’s he going so hard?” Asp asked Larkin. “He’s going full force.”
Larkin answered without looking away, now eating her second pretzel. “He’s going for a quick knockout.”
For several minutes, the opening moments of the round repeated themselves: Hemwrek would charge forward, throwing heavy attacks at Natari, and she would parry or dodge the blows easily. On Hemwrek’s face, Asp saw growing desperation, and she knew that Natari saw it too. She looked more and more relaxed, though still intensely focused, as Hemwrek’s blows became slightly slower, then considerably slower. The crowd seemed to be entirely behind Natari at this point, cheering her dodges and occasional attacks. It seemed that Hemwrek meant to absorb everything she sent his way and simply clobber her into submission.
“He’s getting tired,” she said, half to herself.
“That’s the thing,” replied Larkin, munching a pretzel. “One good punch and he wins.”
Hemwrek seemed to be on the same page as Larkin. He took a swift step toward Natari and feinted a haymaker with his left hand. But as his fist sailed through the air, he began to mutter something too quietly to be heard over the roar of the crowd. Suddenly, his right hand was flying too, and a ball of orange light shone around his gloved fist. The attack moved more quickly than his others, and Natari wasn’t able to entirely sidestep the blow. His right hand collided with her shoulder, and she tried to minimize the damage by spinning, using its momentum to spiral away from Hemwrek. The crowd gasped. Natari gritted her teeth and nodded. Now the fight had really begun.
But the risk had been taken. Hemwrek was moving even slower now. It seemed that the magical attack he’d made had sapped what little energy he’d conserved until now. Natari danced around him, staying just out of reach. Hemwrek threw a few punches, but Natari stepped away with little effort. He could see that he was losing his chance to win, and he dashed forward a few steps and threw another haymaker. Even Asp, to whom boxing was an unknown art, could see that this was a last ditch effort. But it wasn’t a bad effort, either. His fist flew at Natari, and she barely managed to dip herself backwards, falling to brace herself on her arms. Hemwrek was overextended, and Natari kicked sideways, catching his legs and sending him sprawling to the floor of the ring. She propelled herself upward with her arms and came down with a nasty blow to the side of Hemwrek’s head. His limbs crumpled to the mat.
A second passed before the crowd even registered what had happened. Natari stood over Hemwrek, who was already stirring back to consciousness, and she smiled and struck a playful pose, one leg lifted beneath her, her hands framing her smiling face. Hemwrek managed to sit, looked dizzily around, and lay back down. A mighty cheer went up from the crowd.
“Your new champion!” cried the announcer. “Natari Flametongue!”
“Yay Natari!” shouted Larkin. “Sorry Hemwrek.”
Asp frowned and looked down. “Oh well.”
Larkin turned to her. “Oh well?”
Asp shrugged. “I mean, Hemwrek was the champion, but it didn’t seem like he was the favorite. It’s like . . .” She paused, trying to figure out if what was in her head was worth saying. “Hemwrek is scrappy. It didn’t seem like anyone expected him to beat that elf yesterday. But he did. And then he was going up against someone who’s more, you know, talented. A stronger enemy. And he didn’t win, even though he did everything he possibly could.”
Larkin nodded uncertainly. “Right. So? Natari was the better fighter. She deserved to win.”
Asp sighed. “I guess I think of us like Hemwrek. Getting this far was already against the odds. We’re just a little group of unlikely heroes. Beating that elf–that’s like us going up against all the elven leaders, beating those vampires, all of what we’ve done. And Natari is like the meaner elves we have left–they’re gonna just wear us down until we have nothing left. I was rooting for Hemwrek because I want to believe we have a chance.”
Larkin chuckled. “Oh, Penelope. It’s just a boxing match.” She glanced to the side. “Hey, those elves are staring at us.” She took off, cactus and several less pretzels in hand.
Asp looked where Larkin had gestured to. Indeed, there were six elven children peering at them. She hurried once again to catch up with her friend.
By the time they reached the elven children, all but one had nervously run away. The remaining child, a boy with shaggy blond hair and smudged glasses, simply stared up at Larkin as she approached him.
“Hey,” said Larkin jovially, “what’s up?”
The boy looked up in a mixture of fear and respect. “Hi,” he squeaked.
Asp caught up and smiled at the boy. “Can we help you?”
“You’re like Natari,” he said quietly. “Kind of, I mean.”
“Yeah, I’m fierce!” cried Larkin.
“No, I mean you’re a hornkin,” corrected the boy.
“Oh,” said Larkin. “Yeah, I’m a hornkin. I’m Larkin! And this is my friend Penelope.”
Asp curtsied. “Charmed. And you are?”
The boy swallowed and breathed deeply, his eyes on the bloodstains on Asp's dress. “I’m Eldred. I’ve never seen a hornkin besides the one in that shop until today.”
Larkin smiled. “Well now you’ve seen two!” She began to eat her last pretzel. “Do you know anything about the In-Between?” she asked with a mouthful of toasted herb.
Eldred laughed. “Not really. I’ve never left Lo'Enthias before. But my uncle works at the university on the other side of town, and the people at the university know everything.”
“There’s a university here?” asked Asp. “It seems like a relatively small town for something like that.”
“Yeah, we have a university,” said Eldred a touch defensively. “I’m gonna study there when I grow up.”
“And what do you want to study?” asked Asp.
Eldred smiled proudly. “I’m gonna learn to be an alchemist. I think plants are really cool, and I want to use them to help people.”
Asp smiled. “Good kid. Helping people is what it’s all about.”
Larkin stifled a laugh as she finished her final pretzel. Asp gave her a sincere look, and Larkin simply smiled. “Good for you, Eldred. And you too, Penelope.”
“To the university, then?” asked Asp.
“To the university,” echoed Larkin. “Nice meeting you, Eldred. Good luck with alchemy.”
“Thanks,” said Eldred. “Good luck with the In-Between.”
“We’re gonna need it,” said Asp. She and Larkin split off from Eldred and followed the road toward the other side of town.
“So you like helping people now?” asked Larkin, looking happily at her cactus.
“I think I always did,” replied Asp. “When I was in Strey, I kinda stopped with the old song and dance and started actually spreading news to keep people informed. I didn’t take money for it. I started to see that people really just like a helpful person. I just . . . I had it in my head that everyone was basically, I dunno, out to get me. I didn’t realize that I was out to get them, and maybe it wasn’t the other way around too.” She stood a little straighter. “No more lying. No more scams. No more trying to get what I want. I just wanna help people.”
Larkin smiled. “That’s really good, Penelope.” She touched her finger to one of the spines on her cactus. “What should I name him?”
“Name who?” asked Asp.
Larkin chuckled. “My cactus, silly.”
Asp thought about it, taking on an exaggerated look of being deep in thought–her eyes half-closed, her hand on her chin. “How ‘bout Spike?”
Larkin laughed delightedly. “It’s perfect. Hi Spike!” She mimed petting Spike, her hand held an inch away from his sharp points.
Asp and Larkin wound through the streets, chatting away about practically everything except their mission, and Asp began to feel as though things were starting to turn around.
—
In the distance, Asp could see a stone building with a pair of high towers. She and Larkin continued their journey towards it, and Larkin described Spike’s personality in detail.
“He’s very particular about what kinds of bedtime stories he likes,” she explained. “But as long as they include a heroic young cactus, he’s happy. And he hates swimming. Too much water is so gross, right, Spike?” She turned to Asp. “Cactuses don’t like water, right?”
Asp laughed. “I believe that’s true, yes. But I’m not exactly a cactus expert. Maybe we can learn more about Spike when we visit the desert elves.”
“Oooh!” cried Larkin, pointing Spike towards a midsized building to the left. “A blacksmith! We should go in there. I have some blacksmith business to attend to.”
“Lead the way, my friend,” chirped Asp. “We’ve got some time before–hey, it’s Sash.” She pointed to the right where another street met the one they were on.
Larkin turned. “Oh it is them! Hi Sash!”
Sash heard their name and wandered over to join Asp and Larkin. “Hello, you two.”
“We were just going into the blacksmith,” said Larkin. “Wanna join us?”
Sash nodded just slightly. “I could use a sharpening for my trident.”
“Yay!” cried Larkin. “Come with us.” She hurried across the street and into the modestly-adorned shop. Sash and Asp followed behind, both wearing reserved smiles.
Inside, the shop was somewhat dark but still bright enough to see. At the counter was a long-haired human, his brown locks pulled back in a loose ponytail. He wore a thick beard and a blue smith’s apron, and his left arm was gone; his right hand, in a thick leather glove, traced a whetstone along a simple longsword which was braced in a vice. Around his neck was a steel pendant of a lion’s head, and he offered a muted smile to his visitors as they entered the shop. Behind him, a red hornkin was removing heavy platemail and replacing it with his own blue smith’s apron. Where hornkin like Larkin, Natari, Tartarus, and Wesley’s horns curled up and forwards like a bull’s, this smith’s went backwards and curled in and then further back, giving his face an angular look that was almost reptilian. He scarcely acknowledged that the group had entered the shop aside from a glance in their direction, then set to work heating the forge in the rear of the shop.
“Welcome, travelers,” said the human. “What can we do for you today?”
“A couple things, actually,” replied Larkin. “First off, I found this sword. Can you tell me about it?”
The one-armed human grinned. “I’m sure Arthax can. He’s been around blades long enough to be able to tell you just about anything about one.” He turned to the hornkin. “Hey Arthax?”
The hornkin slowly turned to face the man at the counter. “Let me see it.” He approached the counter and held out his hands, which were heavily calloused and scarred across the palms. Larkin handed him the sword she’d grabbed from the farmhouse. He lifted it and inspected it in the low light. He squinted, then carried it to the forge, holding it well above the flames for a better look. He turned back around, his eyes alight but his face reserved. “Where did you get this?”
Larkin shrugged. “Vampire.”
Arthax smiled slightly. “This sword, judging from the composition and the crest imprinted here, is centuries old. It was commissioned by the high elven queen for the admiralty. The original owner of this sword was an important elf a long time ago, and it is of great value. It’s been dulled with time, but its craftsmanship is still obvious.”
“Neat!” cried Larkin.
“That might help us with the desert elves,” conjectured Asp. “A significant sword like that could be a token of our respect.”
“Desert elves, eh?” said the human. “Planning on making a journey to discover them in their wanderings?”
Asp nodded. “We’re doing something of a tour of the elven capitals, trying to get cooperation from everyone for something that affects the people of Afira. I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m afraid I can’t say more than that.”
The human nodded, smiling. “But of course. What else can we do for you?”
“I need my trident sharpened,” said Sash.
“And since that old sword is kinda dull, we should sharpen that up too,” added Larkin.
“I’ll trust the artifact to you, Arthax,” said the human. “I’ll handle the trident.” He loosened the vice’s grip on the longsword he had been sharpening and replaced it with the trident, using his leg to steady the handle and using his hand to tighten the vice. He began to run the whetstone along the points of the trident while Arthax began to sharpen the sword with careful, measured strokes of his own whetstone. “I like to know who I’m doing business with,” continued the human man. “I’m Holmes. And you are?”
Asp had a moment of small panic. What name do I use? I’m not Delia, I’m not Penelope, I’m not Asp. What do I say? But before she could resolve this issue, Larkin spoke.
“I’m Larkin, and these are my friends, Penelope and Sash.”
“Nice to meet you all,” said Holmes, a knowing smile on his face. “So you’re on a grand mission around Afira. What brings you to Lo’Enthias?”
“Just passing through, really,” answered Sash. “We’ve honestly spent more time here than anticipated already.”
“We were headed for the university,” added Larkin. “We need to know how to get to the In-Between.”
Holmes stopped his work with the whetstone and looked up at Larkin. “The In-Between? That’s not exactly a seat of elven government.”
The trio was quiet for a moment, none of them sure what the others thought was proper to divulge. After a moment, Asp spoke.
“Our friend was kidnapped. We believe he’s in the In-Between. We need him for our mission. We have to get him back before we can do anything else.”
Holmes bit his lower lip and resumed sharpening Sash’s trident. “Unfortunate stuff. But on the bright side, I might be able to save you a trip to the university. You want to get to the In-Between? You need a portal there.” He ran the whetstone along a point of the trident and moved to the next. “There’s one place in Afira you can reliably find portals to other places, places like the In-Between. That’s Lo’Thalas. The mountain elves could help you.”
“Thanks, Holmes!” cried Larkin. “We need to go there anyway!”
Holmes offered a half-smile and resumed his work. “Ancient sword identification, weapon sharpening, In-Between information–anything else on your agenda?”
“I think that will do it for us,” replied Asp. “You’ve been very helpful, and we appreciate–”
Larkin cut in, her face bright with excitement. “A gadget! Our friend Steel-Eyes isn’t here, but he makes things, and if you had some kind of cool metal creation, I think he’d love it.”
Asp breathed out deeply. “Larkin, I think Arthax and Holmes are probably pretty busy, and I think weapon and armorsmithing is a little different from what Steel-Eyes does. We should get out of their hair. Besides, I can give Steel-Eyes my mirror. I’m sure he can do something interesting with that.”
Holmes chuckled. “What kinds of things does your friend make?”
Larkin grinned. “He makes all kinds of inventions! I think he was working on a ring when we left the farmhouse.”
Holmes smiled back. “I think I can help with that.” He left the trident in the vice and went to a shelf behind the counter. He grabbed a small black leather pouch and placed it on the counter before Larkin. He lifted the front flap to reveal a series of small and intricate tools. “Jeweler’s tools. That might help him with a ring and that sort of thing.”
Larkin opened her mouth in delight, and her eyes glittered. “It’s perfect! Thanks, Holmes!” She turned to Asp. “I’m sure he’ll like the mirror too. What if he makes a mirror ring? That would be so cool!”
Arthax brought the sword to the counter and grabbed a piece of blank parchment. With a steady hand, he used the blade to slice through the paper. The sword moved through it easily, cutting a ribbon of parchment away. He placed it down, said, “That should do,” and returned to the forge.
Holmes chuckled. “I think it should.” He ran his whetstone over the final point of Sash’s trident a few times and set it down. “Anything else, then?”
Larkin looked to Sash and Asp. Sash shrugged, and Asp smiled. “I think that’s everything!” cried the hornkin happily.
“How much will it be?” asked Asp.
Holmes smiled. “Hmm. I think for everything, let’s say two helms.”
Asp furrowed her brow. That seems pretty low. He just solved five problems for us, and quick. What’s with this smile he keeps giving us? She shrugged. Don’t worry about things that aren’t problems. I need to start trusting people. She reached into her coinpurse and placed a crown on the counter.
“Oh, no need for a tip like that,” said Holmes. “Happy to help.”
Asp met his eye and gave him a stubborn smile. “No, I insist. You’ve done a lot for us, and saved us precious time. It means a lot.”
Holmes shrugged. “If you insist, I suppose. Good luck with everything.” He waved as the trio turned and left the shop.
“That was strange,” said Asp once they were outside. “It seemed like not very much, right?”
Sash half-chuckled. “Money isn’t exactly a problem anyway. Steel-Eyes found a room completely full of coins.”
Larkin smiled. “So we’re rich now?”
Sash nodded, their eyes wide. “There was too much to count.”
“Back to the farmhouse, then?” asked Asp.
Larkin shook her head. “I want to get a pretzel for Steel-Eyes. They were so good, and I’m sure he’d enjoy one.”
Asp chuckled. “Okay, back to the pretzel guy, and then to the farmhouse.”
Larkin nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”
“Excuse me.”
They turned. Holmes had left the shop and was walking towards them.
I fucking knew it. This guy is up to something.
Holmes drew close–very close–and began to whisper. “I suspected you’d be here. I work for Lord Arokosiel. He sent word when you left Lo’Torrin. I’ve been instructed to help and protect you.”
Asp cocked an eyebrow. “You what?”
Holmes chuckled. “Judging by your timing, I’m guessing you went to Lady Norasynia and set out this way to reach Eerith at the frontlines, given what you said about the desert elves. I’ve been instructed to tell you to go to Lo’Thalas instead. Lord Arokosiel believes it better to approach Lady Leonarra first, and if you’ve lost someone–Kastark, I suspect given you haven’t mentioned him–then you should go and get him. Lady Leonarra can help you get to the In-Between, and she’ll almost certainly sign the treaty. It’s your best move right now.”
“I said so myself back in Lo’Alarai,” said Asp with satisfaction. “Steel-Eyes said it would be better to go to Eerith and get the desert elves out of the way.”
Holmes nodded. “An understandable conclusion. But without Kastark, nothing is certain. I’ll come with you and speak to Steel-Eyes if it will help.”
Asp folded her arms. “Good luck. He’s as stubborn as a rock at the bottom of a well.”
“I’ll speak to him,” said Holmes. “We should get moving. Show me to the farmhouse.”
Larkin shook her head. “We have to get a pretzel for Steel-Eyes first.”
Holmes looked at the hornkin curiously, then shrugged. “Okay then. Let’s get moving.”
They four of them set off back toward the carnival. As they went, Asp studied Holmes.
I was right–something was up with him. Just not what I expected. Help from Arokosiel? Not a complete surprise, but certainly not expected, either. I guess I really do need to trust people more.
They left the smithy behind and moved quietly through town, blending into the crowd at the festival, and Asp practiced looking at strangers and imagining that they meant to help her rather than hurt her. It wasn’t easy, but it was getting easier.
—
“The thing about Lo’Thalas is that it’s basically unknown to outsiders,” explained Holmes as the group crossed the fallow cornfield to the farmhouse. “I’ve been in Afira most of my life, and a servant to Lord Arokosiel for years, and even I know only a few basics. Whatever’s waiting for you there is going to be a surprise, and you’ll need to be ready for anything.”
“You said it was the surest bet moving forward,” said Asp. “How can that be true if we know nothing about it?”
Holmes chuckled. “What we know is promising. Lady Leonarra is a fair ruler, and we believe she keeps Lo’Thalas locked down to protect her people. Lord Arokosiel knows better than most that being a kind ruler in Afira puts a target on your back. He opts to be kind and accept the opposition the others give him; Lady Leonarra goes the quiet, secretive route. If there’s a ruler you can trust besides Lord Arokosiel, it’s her.”
It was sunset. They reached the porch and headed inside. The barricade Marlowe had been building was complete; a large wooden structure stood beside the door that could be shifted to block the entrance entirely, and it looked heavy enough to withstand an assault. The only challenge would be putting it into position. Beyond the entryway, the living room had been partially deconstructed to produce material for the barricade, and the corpses of the vampires were neatly stacked in the corner by the staircase, which had been roughly repaired to provide access to the upper half of the house. The parlor was empty, its windows boarded up as they were in the living room. Sash led the way up the stairs, and Asp followed behind the rest of the group anxiously. Something about the idea of being upstairs made her uncomfortable.
They turned down a hallway that connected to the top of the stairs. A few doors on either side lined the hallway, several of them hanging open. They trooped through, poking their heads into the open rooms. A large bedroom held a musty coffin on top of the tattered bed. A small library had more books in stacks on the floor than on the shelves. They passed a closed door that seemed to be a closet given its size. Another bedroom had bedrolls laid out across the floor, the apparent home for the thralls. The second-to-last room was another bedroom, a child’s bed pushed against the far wall, and Steel-Eyes stood beside a low table, he and Guy tinkering with something small on its surface.
“Steel-Eyes!” cried Larkin. “We’re back! And we brought you gifts!”
Steel-Eyes turned. “Gifts.”
Larkin dashed forward and began to set her offerings on the table beside his object of fascination. “Some jeweler’s tools for your work, a mirror from Penelope, and a fancy pretzel! It has special salt on it.”
Steel-Eyes smiled. “Good gifts.” He noticed Holmes and narrowed his eyes. “Who’s he.”
Holmes smiled politely and approached Steel-Eyes with his hand outstretched for a shake. “Ser Levanter Holmes, servant to Lord Arokosiel. I’m here to help.”
Steel-Eyes frowned. “What help.”
Holmes, undeterred, smiled and carried on. “For starters, your missing associate. Kastark. If he’s gone to the In-Between, as I’ve told your compatriots, the best way to get him back is to visit Lo’Thalas. Lady Leonarra can get you to the In-Between.”
Steel-Eyes grunted. “We can visit the desert elves without him. We have Bow of Sariel. Why go to other elves if Eerith says no.”
Holmes turned and glanced at Asp, his face slightly tense. Told you, Holmes. He turned back to Steel-Eyes. “What I’m saying, Mr. Steel-Eyes, is that Lord Arokosiel is directing you to visit Lo’Thalas first. He believes you can obtain Lady Leonarra’s signature and regain your ally in one fell swoop.”
Steel-Eyes grunted again. “If Arokosiel says Lo’Thalas, we go to Lo’Thalas.”
Holmes smiled. “Excellent. If I can be of further service before you depart, please do come visit me at the smithy. Otherwise, best of luck with the rest of your journey.” He bowed deeply and left.
“What’d you make?” asked Larkin.
“Improved ring,” said Steel-Eyes. “Better now.”
“That’s good!” chirped Larkin. “Sash said there was a room full of treasure?”
“Oh yes,” said Sash, turning to leave the room. “Just down this way.”
Asp and Larkin moved to follow Sash. They reached the door and began to turn left to reach the final open door, but a sudden scream to their right exploded from down the hall.
Asp acted without thinking. She turned and followed the scream, which continued on in a long wail, to the closed closet door. She wrenched it open. Inside, the ceiling was fitted out with chains that hung down, keeping an elven figure on their feet. The elf was doubled over, the scream coming from their lowered head, and their arms, chest, and legs were fitted with bladed clamps. There were long streaks of blood dried all over their body, and it was clear from the way the body limply hung in the chains that this person had been bloodlet and fed upon for days, if not weeks. Their slumped form moaned for a moment and then screamed again, a piercing cry that made Asp’s stomach lurch. She placed her hands upon their back and began to pray.
Idunna, please help this person. Please heal their body. Please make them whole again.
Suddenly, pale blue light shot up between Asp’s fingers. The rays of light danced in the air for half a second and then plunged deep under the elf’s skin. The wounds across their chest and limbs stitched themselves together and closed up. The scream subsided into low moans, and then the elf went silent. The light had completely absorbed into their body, and the elf struggled to their feet. Their pale blond hair swept away from their face, and a pained wry smile formed on their lips.
Asp could not believe what she saw. “Dumas?”
His grin widened, but then he winced as the bloodletting implements still bit into his skin. Steel-Eyes stepped up behind Asp and surveyed the situation for a moment. He muttered something arcane, and Dumas’s body began to shrink. He dwindled to Asp’s size and pulled himself free of the chains and blades he had been caught in. He stumbled past Asp and Steel-Eyes out into the hallway. Asp looked at him. He was still covered in dried blood, but his body was whole. The pain on his face receded, and he let loose his familiar wry smile.
“Thank you,” he said.
His body began to change. His form went in rapid succession from a small elf to a full-sized dwarf, then a silver-skinned Ronan’el, and then a mighty bear, a massive buck, and a giant eagle. Finally, he expanded to take up most of the hallway, taking the shape of a large silver dragon, his shimmering scales covering all but his pointed horns. Even as a dragon, he wore that dry grin.
“Whoa,” breathed Larkin.
“You okay?” asked Asp, trying to maintain a polite expression as she stared back at the massive creature before her.
The dragon chuckled. “You helped.”
Asp found herself on the verge of tears. “Of course I helped! You were chained up in a closet! You were a meal for vampires! You were in pain!”
Dumas nodded. “And when I was hurt, you healed me. That’s a new trick.”
Holy fuck. I did heal him. Oh. A few hot tears trickled down her cheeks.
“Do you need anything else?” asked Larkin.
Dumas chuckled again. “I think I’ll be fine now. Good luck.” He closed his eyes, and in a moment, he transformed back into his elven shape. The bloodstains were gone. He wore his old blue robe. He nodded to the party assembled before him, gave them one last little wry smile, and turned and walked away.
Stunned, the group just watched him disappear and listened to his fading footsteps as he descended the staircase. The distant sound of the front door closing woke them from their shock.
“Holy shit,” said Asp.
“Yeah,” agreed Larkin. “That was . . . wow.”
Sash shrugged. “So he was . . . a dragon that whole time?”
“I guess,” said Larkin. “Wow.”
“Um.” Asp wiped the tears from her face. I can heal people. “Shit.”
“Penelope!” cried Larkin. “You healed him.”
“Uh . . .” began Asp. “Yeah.”
Sash chuckled lightly. “So, uh . . . treasure?”
“Treasure!” cried Larkin, turning to the end of the hallway.
Steel-Eyes walked back into the bedroom where he’d been tinkering. “Steel-Eyes will be working again.”
Asp lingered there, watching the empty hallway where Dumas had disappeared. She heard footsteps behind her as Sash showed Larkin the last room.
“Whoa,” said Larkin. “That’s a lot of money.”
Asp breathed deeply and turned. She walked to the end of the hallway and turned into the room. Before her was a mountain of crowns and gems and golden jewelry. It was taller than her and covered most of the room. Her eyes bulged at the sight of it. She had never seen so much money in her life. A small part of her–the part of her that still thought first of getting rich and living a comfortable life without work–grew ecstatic. She was speechless.
“I’m gonna go pray,” said Sash. “It’s getting late. I’ll see you two in the morning.” They passed quietly out of the room.
Asp’s eyes were glued to the sea of wealth. A thousand thoughts–ten thousand thoughts played through her mind. It was impossible to identify one individually. They were collectively so loud that she had the feeling of being overwhelmed without being able to think clearly at all.
Larkin breathed out deeply. “Where do you think they even got this much money?”
“I have no idea,” replied Asp, fighting to focus. “It’s . . . an impossible amount.”
“What should we do with it?” Larkin asked. “Could we even spend all of this in one lifetime?”
Asp laughed at the thought. “Maybe if we bought every house in every city in Afira.”
Larkin chuckled. “So what do we do?”
Asp spoke without thinking; the thought that dominated the others came out of her mouth. “We do something to help people.”
“Right?” said Larkin. “We could do something really good with this.”
Asp giggled. “We could do a lot of really good things with this.”
“But what?” asked Larkin. There was a touch of urgency in her voice.
“Maybe we just take what we can and give some to every person in need we meet,” said Asp. “We could give enough money to live for a year to every poor person we meet and still have plenty to spare.”
“You think Sash and Steel-Eyes will want to do that?” asked Larkin.
A weight came down on top of Asp. Sash probably, but I don’t know about Steel-Eyes. He’ll probably want to spend it on stuff for inventions. I dunno. Maybe he’ll agree to use some of it for people in need. I guess we’ll just have to talk to him about it.
But as she began to speak, something else came out of her mouth. “Does it matter? I mean, helping people with it is what matters. I bet this money came from people around here. They deserve it back.”
Larkin nodded, but her expression was sad. “Sash said Steel-Eyes found it. It’s kinda his money.”
Asp bit her lip. “That’s true. I guess we just have to convince him to use it the right way.”
Larkin smiled. “Cool. Let’s talk to them in the morning and see what they say.”
Asp smiled back. “Sounds like a plan. You know, I think I’m gonna go pray too. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Okay!” cried Larkin. “Thanks for hanging out today.”
Asp laughed. “You too, Larkin. You’re a good friend.”
Larkin beamed and skipped out of the room, chanting, “Friends! Friends! Friends! Friends!”
Asp smiled and slipped out of the room, heading downstairs and returning to the kitchen. She knelt and closed her eyes and began to pray.
Idunna, thank you for healing Dumas. I don’t know if I can heal people every time I pray for your help, but I really hope I can. If I could heal people, I could really do some good, and that would make me happy. So please bless me and continue to help me try to do good things.
Please also help me to convince Steel-Eyes to do something decent with all that money. We don’t need all of it. Not the way people in need do. It’s funny–if I had seen all of that money a few years ago, I would have been scooping crowns into my bag in a second. But all I could think to do with it now is help people. I don’t know exactly how this happened, but I’m so grateful that I think this way now, and I’m grateful that I have your guidance to keep getting better.
I feel so lucky. I asked for your help last night, and you immediately gave it. That’s not something I know I really believed would happen. But knowing that I can talk to you makes me feel better, and I think that I can try to make other people feel better. Please give me more chances to do the right thing, and I promise I’ll do my best to make you proud.
I don’t know what else to say or ask for. I just know that helping Dumas made me happier than I’ve been in a long, long time. Maybe ever. And I plan to keep chasing that feeling. Please help me to do so.
I’m grateful for your strength and grace. I thank you for your power. I love you.
As Asp uttered these final words, she felt her whole body relax. It wasn’t a deliberate action; she hadn’t tried to calm herself. But nonetheless, a soothing comfort spread over her like a thick blanket on a chill night. And again, she saw before her closed eyes the image of a simple daisy, its pure white petals spreading delicately from its bright yellow center. She smiled and opened her eyes.
The kitchen was dark. She yawned. She walked over to the sofa in the parlor and curled up at one end of it. Before she had another thought, she was drifting off to sleep. That night, she had the calmest, most invigorating rest she had ever experienced, and in the morning, everything seemed clear.
—
Asp awoke on the sofa to the sound of a mechanical squawk. Curious, she hopped off the sofa and passed into the living room. Steel-Eyes, bags under his eyes, had a metallic red bird resembling a parrot perched on his outstretched arm. It let loose another squawk and shifted up Steel-Eyes’s arm towards his shoulder.
“Steel-Eyes worked on it all night,” uttered the dwarf proudly. “It helps like Guy.”
“Wow,” said Sash. “Impressive.”
“That’s so cool!” cried Larkin. “What’s its name?”
Steel-Eyes smiled. “Bird.”
Larkin and Asp chuckled, and the group in the living room turned at the sound of Asp’s laughter.
“Hi, Bird,” said Asp as she joined them. “Nice to meet you.”
“Morning, Penelope!” chirped Larkin. “How’d you sleep?”
Asp smiled. “Actually, really well. That sofa’s more comfortable than I figured it would be.”
“That’s good,” replied Larkin. “So, Sash, Steel-Eyes–Penelope and me were talking about what to do with the money upstairs.”
“We could split it up,” suggested Sash. “There’s more than enough for everybody.”
“Right,” said Asp, “more than enough. Larkin and I thought we could donate most of it to something that would help people and just keep a little.”
Steel-Eyes face went slack. “Donate to what.”
“Well, the way I figure it,” explained Asp, “that money probably came from people around here. It would be the right thing to do to give it back.”
“The ones whose money it is are dead,” said Steel-Eyes. “Give it back to who.”
“Their families?” suggested Larkin. “Charities?”
“Not in Lo’Enthias,” grunted Steel-Eyes. “Too much attention.”
Asp laughed uneasily. “Steel-Eyes, is there anywhere where this amount of money won’t bring us attention?”
Steel-Eyes shook his head. “You want to explain vampire money.”
“I mean, would that be so bad?” asked Asp. “‘Hey, we killed the vampires that have been plaguing your town, here’s some of what they stole from you.’ You think that would be bad?”
“People who had money are dead,” argued Steel-Eyes. “Doesn’t make sense.”
“But the people who lost those people are still around, probably,” said Larkin. “It doesn’t not make sense.”
Steel-Eyes shook his head again, Bird shifting to stay in place with the bend of Steel-Eyes’s arm. “If we give to people in Lo’Enthias, they will want all of it.”
“And what would be the problem with that?” asked Asp. “It’s their money, after all.”
“We kill vampires,” retorted Steel-Eyes. “We deserve treasure too.”
Asp adopted her most diplomatic tone. “So you agree we should give at least some away?”
Steel-Eyes nodded. “Some. Not all.”
Asp turned to Sash. “What about you? What do you think?”
Sash widened their eyes and breathed deeply. “I’d like to take some back to the temple of Godtide Sasharaan. And I agree we should give some to the people in need.”
Larkin raised a finger. “Penelope had an idea: what if we took as much as we can and give out some to the people we meet on the way?
Steel-Eyes nodded. “Yes. Some to people who need it.”
Sash nodded too. “Yes, I think dispensing help as we go might be wisest.”
“But some here in town,” said Asp. “Not all, but some to the people most in need.”
Steel-Eyes sighed. “Just a few people.”
“So we’re agreed,” said Asp. “A little for us as compensation for ridding the town of vampires, a little for some people in need here, and some for the other people we meet on the way.”
Larkin smiled. “I like it.”
“It seems agreeable and fair,” agreed Sash.
“Okay,” said Steel-Eyes. “Steel-Eyes will go pack up tools upstairs.” He began up the staircase, Bird clinging to his shoulder.
Larkin smiled at Asp. “Yay!” she cried.
Sash turned to the pile of corpses in the corner. “I want to do something for the bodies. Help them pass on. Would either of you help?”
“I can help!” chirped Larkin.
“Sure, I’ll help,” replied Asp. “What do we need to do?”
Sash turned back to them. “Traditionally, the bodies must be returned to nature. And I believe that warding against vampires requires fire. We could build a pyre and burn them.”
“Sounds like a plan,” said Asp. “I guess we could tear some of the house apart to build the pyre. It’s not like anyone’s gonna be using this place any time soon.”
“That would work,” confirmed Sash. “Larkin, would you go pick a spot in the yard that’s a little away from the house? We’ll start bringing wood out, and then we’ll get the bodies stacked up on it.”
Larkin’s face lit up. “Okay! Be right back!” She ran outside, the door slamming behind her.
Asp and Sash took to assembling a stack of lumber. They piled wooden chairs, damaged floorboards, and dislodged planks from the walls near the door to the entryway. Soon, Larkin popped back inside and began to cheerfully carry the wood from their stack outside.
“You seem to be much more interested in helping people than you were not that long ago,” observed Sash.
Asp chuckled as she yanked up some floorboards. “Yeah. I just–I dunno. I feel like it was right in my face for so long. Like, in retrospect, conning people always felt . . . kinda shitty. I mean, I made it into a game. I would see if I could win people’s trust, if I could get what I wanted from them like they were in on the game and I was just better at it than them. And I always felt like garbage about it, but I just thought that they’d take advantage of me if they could, and that made it okay, and also, like, the idea that they were going to hurt me unless I got them first was the thing that made me feel bad. It was like I was alone in the world, and if I didn’t strike first, I’d be the one hurting.”
Sash nodded sadly and added an armful of boards to the pile. “A preemptive strike?”
“Yeah, like that. And when I started working with all of you, and you didn’t like that I was lying to people, I–” Asp stopped and stood with her hands clenched around boards from the wall, suddenly ashamed. “I thought you were foolish, and you didn’t know the world like I did. But when I stopped taking advantage of people, the feeling went away. Pretty quickly, too. It did back in Strey whenever my gang wasn’t pulling a job, but I thought that’s because I was well off enough to not be vulnerable. But with you, I dunno–I started to realize that hurting people was actually what hurt. I mean, don’t get me wrong. There are people who’ll try to hurt us. Norasynia, Farboriel, Eerith. Madris, Osk-Ox. Some of the more racist elves we’ve met. And will meet. But not everybody’s out to get me.”
“That’s true,” said Sash, carrying a chair to the pile. “I’m glad you’ve realized that.”
“Yeah, well, if not everybody’s out to get me, but I’m out to get everybody, that makes me the villain,” continued Asp, resting by the growing woodpile. “And that’s . . . a sobering thing to realize. I have a lot to make up for. So I might as well start now.”
Sash deposited a few more boards on the pile. “There’s no time like the present. Now, I think this should be enough to get the fire going. Let’s help Larkin get these outside.”
In an easy quietness, Asp and Sash helped Larkin to build the pyre. It was wide and waist-high before long, and the three of them began to carry the bodies out to cover it. Asp and Sash would carry a body between them, Asp doing her best to lift the feet and Sash hooking their arms under the corpses’ shoulders, and Larkin would sling a body over her shoulder and heft it outside. Before long, the pyre was stacked with bodies, and the midday light shone on the pale skin of the thralls and vampires.
“I can light it!” cried Larkin.
“One moment,” said Sash. “Give me a moment to say a prayer.”
“Mind if I join you?” asked Asp before she knew she had spoken.
Sash smiled. “Please do. I’m sure the souls before us will appreciate it.”
Asp and Sash stood side by side at the pyre. Sash began to quietly pray in elven, and Asp closed her eyes and started her own prayer.
Idunna, please bless these bodies and help them return to nature. Please bless the souls of these dead and help them find peace. Please forgive them for the evil they have done, for I believe it was the vampirism that made them do it. And please let the fire cleanse this place of what has happened here. I thank you for your help, and I love you.
She stepped back from the pyre, and a moment later, Sash retreated from it as well. They nodded to Larkin, who snapped her fingers, and a flame appeared over her hand. She held it to the corner of the pyre, which began to burn. The fire spread, consuming first the wooden base and then the bodies. A thick scent of acrid, stinging smoke went up and threatened to choke Asp, but she closed her eyes and tried to think of the cleansing good the fire was doing. The smell of burning flesh abated, and in its place, she smelled cherry blossoms.
—
Sash, Larkin, and Asp returned to the living room of the farmhouse, the pyre and bodies reduced to ash. They didn’t speak until they took places on the couch and armchairs and sat quietly for a while. Then, Larkin broke the silence.
“So, I guess we’re headed to Lo’Thalas.”
“Yeah,” replied Asp. “We should leave soon. Where’s Steel-Eyes?”
“He’s probably upstairs,” guessed Sash, turning to look up the damaged staircase. “Should we see if he’s ready to go?”
“We should,” said Asp. “It’s gonna be a bit of a journey, and who knows what will slow us down on the way this time. Weren't we planning on being with Eerith by now?”
Sash smiled. “That’s a fair point. Let’s check on him.”
They climbed the stairs and checked the hallway beyond it. Each room was empty until they reached the final room where the treasure had laid in a massive pile. They peeked around the door and gasped.
Inside the room, Steel-Eyes stood with Guy at his side and Bird on his shoulder. Except for the dwarf and his creations, the room was completely empty. Not a single coin could be seen, and the room seemed massive without the hoard of money.
“All the money gone,” said Steel-Eyes sadly, shrugging as if he had lost a close friend.
“Oh my,” breathed Sash.
“What the fuck,” wheezed Asp. “Where did it go?”
“Did somebody break in?” asked Larkin, her eyes wide.
Steel-Eyes guffawed. He held his belly and let peals of laughter spill from him. Guy chortled and Bird cackled along with him. Steel-Eyes calmed a bit and removed his goggles, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. “You should have seen your faces,” he said.
Asp cocked an eyebrow. “Um . . . can you explain?”
Steel-Eyes chuckled and walked over to his allies. He pulled a fine velvety bag with golden clasps from his pocket and held it before them. He popped open the latch and held the bag for them to see. Inside were crowns, gold trinkets, and gems. He reached a hand into the bag and pulled out a large handful of the treasure. But the bag looked no less empty–where the loot had been, more had risen to replace it.
“It’s all in here,” he explained. “New invention. Bag can hold much.”
“Wait,” said Larkin, trying to control her rising excitement, “all of the treasure is in there?”
Steel-Eyes nodded happily. “Easier to carry.” He laughed again. “And easier to hide.”
“Hot damn,” said Asp. “That’s incredible. Truly brilliant, Steel-Eyes.”
He smiled in satisfaction. “Thank you.”
“So we’re ready to go then?” asked Sash. “No last business here or in town before we leave?”
“One last thing, actually,” said Larkin. “Just a quick trip to town. Maybe five minutes.”
Steel-Eyes nodded, still happy with himself. “Okay.”
They left the room and walked down the hallway, Asp eyeing the closet where she’d healed Dumas. They trooped down the staircase, Asp looking at the spot where the vampire had taken Kast. They headed into the entryway, Asp glancing at the kitchen where she’d pledged herself to Idunna. And they left the farmhouse, Asp’s eye lingering on the pile of ash where she’d prayed over the vampire and thralls they had slain.
So much happened here, she thought. And in so little time. I feel like I’m leaving as a different person than I arrived as. How did this all happen?
Larkin led the way through the dead cornfield and onto the road back into Lo’Enthias. They passed shops and homes and the remains of the Solstice Festival, which was beginning to be deconstructed until next year. They turned onto the road where they’d found Holmes’s and Arthax’s shop, and Larkin stopped about a block before they arrived at the smithy. She stood looking up at a humble two-story building which needs repairs and a fresh coat of paint. Above the door, in faded letters, a sign read, “Clinic.”
Larkin looked to her allies. “Just a minute, I promise.” She ducked inside, and Asp, Sash, and Steel-Eyes followed.
Inside was a simple room. At their left was a small desk, a tired-looking middle-aged elven woman sitting behind it. To their right were a series of cots, most of which were inhabited by sick and sleeping people. The air was musty, and the scent of an unspiced lunch of pea soup wafted from the back room, where a cook could be heard preparing food for the patients. Larkin approached the elf at the desk.
“Good morning,” said the elf. “How can I help you? Are you in need of medical attention?”
Larkin smiled and shook her head. “No, I’m fine. So are my friends. We just wanted to make a donation.”
The elf sat up straighter. “A donation? That would be so good of you. Thank you!”
Larkin nodded. “Of course! It looked like this place could use some help.”
As Larkin turned to Steel-Eyes to ask for the bottomless bag, the elven woman at the counter responded. “Oh, yes indeed. This place has certainly seen better days. Anything would help us, you see–we can barely afford to stay open except for help from people like you.”
Steel-Eyes reached into the bag and withdrew a handful of crowns, which he passed to Larkin, who placed them on the desk’s surface. The elven woman’s eyes grew wide at the pile before her. Larkin turned back to Steel-Eyes, who was already closing the bag’s clasps again. Larkin widened her eyes at him, but he simply returned the bag to his pocket. Larkin turned back and reached into her own coinpurse, adding several more crowns to the pile. Asp smiled at Larkin and added more crowns from her own coinpurse, and Larkin smiled back at her.
“Good heavens!” cried the elven woman. “You mean to donate all of this?”
“Yep!” chirped Larkin. “We think you need it more than us.”
The elven woman laughed in disbelief. “Do you realize what this will do for us?”
Larkin smiled. “No, what?”
The woman at the desk shook her head. “This will fund the clinic for the next year and a half, maybe more. Oh, bless you!”
Asp smiled. “Idunna’s blessings to you, actually.”
The elven woman chuckled. “I don’t know who you all are, but thank you.”
“Happy to help!” cried Larkin. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have to go rescue our friend.” She smiled once more and turned to go.
“Good luck!” said the elven woman. “I hope you find them!”
Asp smiled at her and nodded. “Thanks. Us too.” She looked at the pile of crowns thoughtfully for a moment, then added a few more gold coins. “Just in case.” She turned and followed Larkin back outside.
“Are you happy now,” half-asked Steel-Eyes.
Larkin beamed. “Yep!”
“Let’s get on the road,” said Sash. “It’s couple days’ walk to Lo’Thalas.”
They followed the road out of town and hiked late into the day, Larkin whistling happily, Steel-Eyes thumping along with his creations, Sash quietly marching, and Asp deep in thought. To her, it seemed as though the day flew by, and every time her legs felt tired, she thought of the way the elven woman at the clinic’s eyes had looked. They had been sharp and weary when the group had entered, but when the group left, her eyes were soft and gentle. Asp wondered how she herself looked now, if she would appear different, and she realized that Steel-Eyes had her mirror.
How I look doesn’t matter so much anymore. But good gods, do I feel better.
You can read the next chapter here!
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