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They had walked all day without interruption since leaving the clinic. Night had begun to fall, and there was a chill in the air that nipped at their skin as they made camp and hunkered down for the night. They opted to not perform watch duties as they had before, in part because no one had truly slept during their time in Lo’Enthias, and in part because it was always Kast who attended to setting up watch shifts, and no one was eager to remind themselves of his absence.
In the morning, time continued to pass at an uncanny speed. Asp could later recall the things they had done during their morning in camp, but the details of them seemed to fade into obscurity. She knew that Sash had made breakfast, and that breakfast had involved some foraged vegetables as many of their meals on the road had, but which specific vegetables they were and how the meal tasted were lost to her. She could remember that Larkin had used the Bow of Sariel to practice archery, and that she’d gone from fairly mediocre to respectable with it, but how long it took and what she had used as targets eluded her. Likewise, Asp could confirm that Steel-Eyes had read from some magic tome and practiced spells, but the effects of those spells and the words used to produce them were simply a buzz in the background, like the collective sound of insects in summer.
The only thing she truly could remember from that morning was wandering outside of camp and finding a fallen willow tree. It had been on the ground for only a few days, judging by the state of hardness she found it in. She had selected a segment just taller than her own height; it was relatively thick, but flexible and lightweight. She had cut it free with her dagger, which she then used to carve a few simple designs into it–a number of five-petaled cherry blossoms and the daisy Idunna had shown her at their center. She had mostly tried to preserve the wood’s natural form and simply adorn it with designs to show her care, and as the group left camp that morning, she found that walking with the staff was easy and soothing.
They had left in the early morning, and they hiked further and further up the road and into the mountains until the chill of the air grew genuinely cold. They passed a few signs indicating that Lo’Thalas was still a few days’ journey away and that a town called Lo’Anagroth was not far ahead. After walking into the mid-evening, they passed into Lo’Anagroth, which was coated in fallen snow. It was a modest town. Low wooden buildings with thatched roofs stood close together, livestock kept in pens near the houses, an unlit bonfire at the center of town. It was one of the smallest settlements Asp had ever seen, and despite her best efforts, she received stares from the largely elven population.
But it was not just her–Larkin and Steel-Eyes attracted attention too. It seemed that a bright orange hornkin, a dwarf surrounded by mechanical beings, and a bloodstained slightkin were enough to make people uncomfortable, even suspicious of their presence in the little burg. Sash waved friendly hellos to the people they passed, which seemed to help, but they had to repeat the gesture every few steps to the new people they encountered. The group spotted an inn at the edge of town and made their way to it.
Inside, an elven man in his winter years eyed them closely. Sash approached and spoke.
“Can we get some drinks?”
The innkeeper offered a bitter smile and set a single tankard of ale on the counter before Sash.
“I’ll take an ale too, please,” said Larkin.
“Me too,” said Asp.
“Also Steel-Eyes,” said the dwarf.
The innkeeper smiled sourly. “I don’t serve apostates.”
Larkin furrowed her brow. “A-whats?”
“Apostates,” repeated the innkeeper.
Sash turned from the proffered tankard. “He means you’re not elves.”
“And I won’t serve the likes of you,” continued the innkeeper. “Not now, not ever.”
“Sir,” said Sash with a bow, “my associates and I are here on an important journey that will benefit all of Afira.”
“I won’t,” repeated the innkeeper. “You’re not welcome here.”
“C’mon,” said Asp. “Let’s go.”
They retreated outside the inn and stood shivering in the cold air. Larkin looked longingly back into the warm inn and scowled.
“What’s his problem?” she asked.
“Some of the smaller towns in Afira are less open-minded than the rest,” explained Sash. “We’ll need to find another place to stay.”
“Town too small,” said Steel-Eyes. “No other inns.”
Asp frowned. “We can’t spend the night outside. It’s too cold, and the looks people are giving us don’t exactly make me think we’ll be safe.”
“There must be somewhere else we can go,” said Sash. “There must be a lodge or something somewhere.”
Larkin bit her lip. “I think we saw the whole town. I don’t think there’s anywhere else to go. Do we just get back on the road and hope we make it somewhere better before nightfall?”
“There would have been signs on the road,” argued Asp. “I don’t know if there’s another town between here and Lo’Thalas.”
“Why are people like this?” asked Larkin. “We didn’t do anything to them. We’re just travelers. We mean no harm. Maybe we could–”
Asp held up a hand to silence the group. She inclined her head to the side, toward a teenage elven boy who was approaching them. His face was soft and cherubic, and his limbs gangly. They turned to face him as he joined them.
“Hey, travelers,” he said. “How are you?”
Sash bowed slightly. “We are okay. We need a place to spend the night, and food and drink after a day’s march. Do you know of anywhere that would accept non-elven guests?”
The boy nodded, smiling slightly. “Yeah, this place isn’t exactly friendly to outsiders. You could come stay with me. I can offer you shelter and food. I have a little farm just outside of town.”
“Really?” asked Larkin. “That would be great!”
The boy smiled. “Yeah, come with me. It’s just down this way.”
“Can we talk a second?” asked Asp. “Just us, I mean.”
The boy nodded and walked several paces away.
“What is it?” asked Larkin.
“You just trust a random stranger in a town where everybody hates us?” asked Asp, her mind running through images of red-eyed vampires in a darkened house. “The last time we went to some little farmhouse outside of town, there were vampires in it.”
“It may be our only option,” said Sash. “He seems friendly enough.”
“Why would he help,” muttered Steel-Eyes. “Just a boy.”
“Everyone in town who’s seen us has given us death glares,” said Asp. “He wants to just help? For no reason?”
“He seems nice,” countered Larkin.
“Seems is different from is,” said Asp. “He might be–”
She stopped speaking as snow began to fall. It came at first in light flakes, then in great gales. As they stood in silence, an inch of show quickly piled at their feet.
Asp sighed. “Fine. Better attacked in a farmhouse than frozen in a snowdrift.”
Steel-Eyes grunted. “Okay.”
“Hey!” cried Larkin, waving to the boy. “What’s your name?”
He trotted back over to join them. “I’m Wayseras. You lot look cold. Were you not expecting to be headed this way?”
“Not exactly,” said Asp. “Would you please show us to your farm?”
Wayseras nodded and turned to the east. “It’s out this way. Follow close–the snow can make it hard to see much in front of you when it’s like this. So who are you?”
“I’m Larkin!” cried the hornkin. “And these are my friends! The elf is Sash, and the slightkin is Penelope, and Steel-Eyes is the dwarf with the metal friends.”
“Nice to meet you all,” said Wayseras. “It’s just a bit further. This way.”
They trekked through the snow, practically blind to the surrounding world. Where the morning and afternoon had passed in blur, the journey through the snowstorm seemed to take forever. Asp’s shoes were soaked through, as was the bottom half of her dress, and the driving snow made her shiver and hunch forward to preserve warmth. The journey seemed to go on forever, and Asp found herself unconsciously praying.
Please let us get to the farmhouse. Please let it not be a trap. Please let me get warm again. Please let this all be okay. Please.
—
They were upon the farmhouse before they realized it. Wayseras stepped up onto a stoop and opened the door, beckoning inside. The group congregated before the door and peered inside. It was dark. It smelled damp. It was eerily quiet. They looked between each other, no one daring to take the first step. Asp could tell they all had the same concerns that she did after their last foray into a similar situation.
“Are you all sure–” began Asp.
“Steel-Eyes cold,” said the dwarf. He tramped inside, knocking the snow off his boots as he went.
“I think we can trust him,” whispered Larkin. She followed behind, knocking her boots against the doorframe on the way in.
Asp turned to Sash, who had an uneasy look on their face. “I’ll go make sure there’s a way out. You know, in case of emergency.” She snuck inside and eyed the windows in the small house. She crept to one and cracked it open. It moved easily. She closed the window and returned to Sash. “It looks safe enough.” She turned and entered the main room of the cabin, donning a grateful smile. “Thanks, Wayseras. We owe you one.”
Sash came in, closing the door behind them. “Nice little place you have here,” they said, and Asp couldn’t tell if they meant it.
The farmhouse was relatively small. The room they had entered into was half-kitchen, half-living space. Beyond a door on the left was a small bedroom, a rickety wooden bed piled with straw at its center. Much of the furniture was damaged–not beyond repair, but certainly not in fine condition, either. One of the windows was cracked, and chill air seeped in through it. Wayseras was already tending to a fire in the simple hearth, adding dried leaves and sticks to coals that still glowed.
“Thanks,” said Wayseras cheerfully. “I know it’s not the world’s nicest house, but it’ll do for me.”
“Where are your parents?” asked Larkin.
Wayseras froze for a second as he tended the fire. “They, um . . .” He laid a log over the bed of kindling. “They got caught in a storm. They went out to take some of our harvest to market, and the storm came, and they never made it home. I went out looking for them when the storm passed, and I, uh, found the wagon. They’d been . . . you know, there’s animals out there.” He was no longer poking at the fire–simply staring into the flame.
“I’m so sorry, Wayseras,” said Asp, crossing the room to put a hand on his shoulder and stand by the warmth of the fire. “I can’t imagine what that must have been like.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “I miss them. The bigger problem now–the practical problem, anyway–is that the farm’s hard to support by myself. We were making payments, and then when they died, I had to take out a loan to keep paying on the farm. And then there was a bad harvest, so I had to take another loan. And I just can’t keep up.” He kept staring into the fire as though the answers to his problem lay there.
“Wow,” breathed Larkin. “That’s horrible. Maybe we can help you since you’re helping us.”
Steel-Eyes walked up to Wayseras and stopped just before the boy. “You like magic.”
Wayseras cocked his head to the side. “I mean, sure, I like magic I guess.”
Steel-Eyes muttered a few words deep under his breath, waving his gloved hand over Wayseras’s head. In an instant, Wayseras began to float upward. He rose in the air, and several inches separated him from the floor of the farmhouse. Wayseras stretched his legs out, and rather than reaching down to the floor, his feet stayed where they were, and his torso rose so that he was still floating in midair.
“Whoa!” cried Wayseras. “Good gods! I’m . . . I’m floating!”
Steel-Eyes clutched his belly and laughed.
“How’d you do that?” asked Wayseras, squirming above the ground.
Steel-Eyes chuckled. “Magic.” He snapped his fingers, and Wayseras returned slowly to the ground.
Wayseras laughed along with Steel-Eyes for a moment. “That’s so cool. Thanks, Steel-Eyes.” He smiled and looked at the floor, then walked to the kitchen. “Let’s see about some dinner,” he said, searching the rickety cabinets. He pulled out a few cloth bags and took them to the hearth.
“I’ll help,” said Asp. She turned and helped him sort through the bags, retrieving some oats, corn, and potatoes.
Wayseras began to shuck the corn, and Asp used her dagger to slice the potatoes into small pieces. Both of them deposited their work into a cauldron above the flame. Wayseras went outside and came back with an armful of snow, which he added to the cauldron.
Meanwhile, Steel-Eyes began to quietly tinker with things around the house. While Larkin and Sash warmed themselves before the fire and filled tankards with snow, resting them before the hearth to melt, Steel-Eyes repaired wonky cabinet doors, patched a hole in the floor, and magically sealed the cracked glass window.
Before long, the farmhouse was warm and bright, a simple stew bubbled over the fire, and many of the imperfections in the house had been fixed. Wayseras, distracted by the company and the task of cooking, only noticed the repairs once dinner had been served and eaten and he went to return the sacks of food to the cabinets.
“You fixed the cabinets?” he asked incredulously, spinning to face Steel-Eyes. The dwarf simply smiled and pointed to the window. Wayseras grinned and dashed toward Steel-Eyes, wrapping him in a hug. “Thank you!”
“Thank you for shelter and food,” said Steel-Eyes, standing awkwardly without returning the hug.
“So you’re probably going to be on your way soon,” said Wayseras as he let go of Steel-Eyes. “Where are you headed?”
The group looked at each other uncertainly, but Asp smiled at Wayseras. “We’re headed for Lo’Thalas.”
Wayseras’s eyes widened. “Further up the mountains, then. You’ll need better clothes for that. I know a fur seller who doesn’t mind trading with outsiders. I could go and get him for you. That way you could leave in the morning.”
“That would be good,” said Sash. “We’re trying to make good time, but we seem to be running into delays everywhere we go. Like this storm, for instance.”
Wayseras glanced out the window. “Looks like the storm is slowing down. I’ll go get him before it starts back up.” He walked to the door and began to pull on a thick fur cloak.
“I’ll come with you,” said Asp.
Wayseras smiled, but his eyes were uneasy. “The townsfolk might be wary of a slightkin in town.”
Asp smiled back, her eyes mischievous. “Give me two minutes.”
She reached into her bag and retrieved a loose-fitting blue dress she had quickly stitched together during her time in Lo’Torrin. She’d learned that sometimes elves simply want to deal with elves, and she’d created a basic dress in the elven style that disguised her body’s more adult form. She also took two small pieces of wax and massaged them onto the tips of her ears, forming small points. She did a little spin and posed before Wayseras.
His eyes widened. “You look like . . .”
Asp grinned. “A little tiny elf?”
He laughed in disbelief. “You look like you’re four or five years old.”
Asp laughed, satisfied with her handiwork. “But I do look like an elf. Right?”
Wayseras shook his head, smiling. “You look like you could be my little sister.”
“Perfect!” she cried. She turned to her allies. Larkin was smiling as if in on a joke; Sash looked as if they had come to expect such things from Asp; Steel-Eyes was busying himself by tightening the hinges on the backdoor of the farmhouse, Guy holding the door in place.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” asked Wayseras. “I mean, didn’t they see you come into town as a slightkin?”
Asp smiled. “They saw a slightkin woman come into town with a hornkin, a dwarf, and an elf. When they see me this time, they’ll see an elven child come into town the other way with another elf. Trust me–it’ll be fine.”
Wayseras laughed again. “Okay, Penelope. Wow. You all seem to be full of surprises.”
“It’s what we do!” cried Larkin.
Wayseras shook his head once more, still smiling. “Okay, stick close. We’ll be back soon with the fur seller!”
With that, Wayseras led Asp out of the farmhouse and back into the cold. She leapt between the footsteps he left, already missing the warmth of the house. She wondered as they went whether the elf disguise was fundamentally dishonest, if she were breaking her vow to Idunna to tell the truth. But she felt on some level that tricking people into treating her as they should wasn’t wrong, and she also felt certain that using her old skills for something good like pursuing their mission wasn’t wrong either. The darkening sky overhead continued to snow, and as they neared Lo’Anagroth, she tried to prepare a Lo’Torrin accent–this performance would need to be a good one if she didn’t mean to freeze on the way to Lo’Thalas.
—
Wayseras led Asp the back way into town, arriving at a small shack a ways off from the main road. A few hides were stretched on racks, and Asp thought of her work as a young woman back in Thistlewade. But these hides were heavy furs, and she had only worked with lighter stuff back then, so the quality of this work was obscured to her. Wayseras approached the door and knocked hard three times, then lighter twice.
A grizzled elf came to the door. His thick beard was bristly and black, and he wore a patchwork of furs from animals Asp couldn’t identify. “Wayseras,” he said.
Wayseras nodded. “Heylas. I need a favor.”
Heylas looked down at Asp. “Who’s the kid?”
Asp put on an excited, childlike smile. I need to blend in. I’ve met half a dozen elves named Ell since I got here. That should work. “I’m Ell!” she declared, channeling some of Larkin’s bubbling energy.
Heylas shrugged. “What do you need?”
Wayseras sighed. “I need you to come by the farmhouse with a bunch of furs and whatnot. I have some friends who trekked up the mountain without the right gear.”
Heylas nodded. “Can they pay?”
“Yeah,” said Wayseras. “I mean, I think they can.”
Heylas narrowed his eyes. “You think?”
“We can pay!” cried Asp. “My friends have money.”
Heylas scrutinized Asp. “You got money, kid?”
Asp smiled. “Enough for furs, yeah.”
Heylas shrugged. “Okay. Be there in a bit. It’s that time of year where everybody’s already got what they need, so I could use the business. See you shortly.”
“Thanks, Heylas,” said Wayseras. “I appreciate it.”
“No problem,” replied Heylas. “I still owe you one.” He turned back inside, closing the door behind him.
Wayseras turned and looked back out at the snowy landscape. “We should get going. I don’t want him to beat us there, and he moves quick. We’ll have to take the shortcut.”
Asp glanced up at him. “Shortcut?”
Wayseras nodded. “We’re gonna cut through town. Let’s hope your disguise works.”
Asp smiled. “Trust me. I’ve done plenty of work in disguise before.”
Wayseras chuckled as he set out towards town. “Oh yeah? Like what?”
“Oh, you know,” she said. “Posing as a museum curator, talking my way out of a jail cell, impersonating a governmental official in the face of elven and Ronan’el royalty. The classics.”
Wayseras laughed. “Who exactly are you? And what is your group up to?”
Asp laughed with him. “What the group is up to isn’t exactly my secret to divulge. But I used to be a con artist. I’m reformed, though. No more lies. I help people now.”
Wayseras turned to face her, still walking into the snowstorm. “A con artist? Really?”
Asp wrapped her arms around herself to stay warm. “Yep. I spent a lot of years–too many, really–pretending to be someone else. Recently, I started to realize that it would be better to try to be someone who people have reason to trust instead of coming up with fake reasons for them to trust me. There’s more power in what’s real than in what isn’t.”
“So you were good, then? I mean, if you can do what you said you did, you must have been good.”
“Sure, I was good,” said Asp. “But the thing of it is, you can be good at killing people. Or torturing them. Or whatever evil, nasty thing you prefer. Doesn’t mean it’s worth doing.”
Wayseras laughed bitterly. “I suppose that’s true. I guess what I mean is, there’s not a lot of times in my life that I’ve been in a position of power. Giving something like that up seems . . . strange to me.”
Asp fell silent for a moment. “Do you want to spend your life being a farmer in debt?”
“No,” said Wayseras immediately. “But what choice do I have?”
“If you could do anything, what would it be?”
It was Wayseras’s turn to fall silent. “I’d like to be able to do magic. Like what Steel-Eyes did.”
Asp smiled. “There’s got to be an academy in Lo’Thalas, right?”
Wayseras sighed. “Sure, there’s a great one there. But I can’t leave the farm. If I left without paying back the loan, they’d come after me. And there’s tuition at the academy to worry about too.”
Asp laughed. “The loan and the tuition are beside the point. Money is money. Why don’t you come with us?”
“Beside the point?” asked Wayseras. “Money is what’s kept me back my whole life. I can’t just pretend it doesn’t exist.”
Asp stopped dead in her tracks. He sounds like me when I was back in Thistlewade, back when all this started. Shit. I gotta help this kid. She dashed forward and drew even with Wayseras. She opened her coinpurse and showed him the crowns inside of it. “I said, money is money. I can take care of the loan. I can cover your tuition. Come with us.”
Wayseras stopped when he saw the money. Asp could tell he’d never seen so much wealth at once before. He looked at her curiously. “Why me? Why would you help me like that?”
Asp nodded forward, and he began to march again. “You’re a good person, and if money’s holding you back, and I’ve got money to spare, there’s no reason to not help you. You offered us shelter and food when you clearly have very little. I have a lot. I want to share what I have, just like you shared what you have. Besides, if Larkin and Sash and Steel-Eyes knew what you just told me, they’d do the same. Let us help you.”
“Let me think about it,” said Wayseras, but she could tell from his voice that he desperately wanted to accept her offer–only his pride held him back.
“Please do,” she said. “In the morning, I want you to come with us. I want you to–”
“Hey!” cried a voice. “Wayseras! What are you doing here?”
Asp turned. It was the innkeeper. He was pointing an angry finger at them.
“Run,” breathed Wayseras. He took off at a sprint, and Asp dashed as quickly as she could behind him. They ran and ran, and before the adrenaline cleared from Asp’s system, they were at the door to the farmhouse. Wayseras threw it open and stepped inside, Asp following close behind. He slammed the door, and the two of them collapsed to the floor, laughing and laughing in relief after their close encounter.
“What’s so funny?” asked Larkin.
But that only made them laugh harder.
—
“He wants to study magic,” whispered Asp. Wayseras was in the bedroom, tidying what he could and reshaping the pile of straw on the bed. “We should take him with us.”
“Yay!” said Larkin. “Another friend!”
“Good kid,” agreed Steel-Eyes. “We can take.”
“We should help him,” said Sash. “Can he afford tuition?”
“We can,” argued Asp. “He gave us so much of what he has. We should give him a little of what we have.”
Everyone looked to Steel-Eyes, expecting him to refute this part of the plan. But he simply smiled. “We can pay.”
“Yay!” cried Larkin. “Does he want to come along?”
“He does,” said Asp. “But he’s afraid to accept our help. There’s this small matter of a loan he has, but I can take care of that. I just need to stop in town before we leave.”
“Good,” said Sash. “I’ll try talking to him.”
There was a knock at the door. Wayseras came from the bedroom and opened it to find Heylas standing before him. They exchanged brief greetings, and Heylas came inside, hauling a bag with furs spilling over the sides.
“So, I hear you need some warm clothes,” he said. He placed the bag before him and began to retrieve a variety of furs and woolen garments. They ranged in color, whites and browns and greys and blacks, and a few of the outfits were small enough for Asp. “I have a few for the kid, and the rest should fit the rest of you. Take your pick.”
The group surveyed the options and tried on a few promising ones. Sash wore light grey furs which appeared to be from a collection of rabbits’ hides; Larkin dressed herself in a brown woolen outfit with a badger’s pelt hat; Steel-Eyes donned a patchwork of white and dark grey furs, which Asp believed to be from mountain goats; Asp selected a suit of black fur which seemed to be from a bear. Asp noticed an immediate change in how she felt–even in the fire-warmed farmhouse, the fur clothing was much more comfortable, and she found she no longer shivered.
Heylas looked at their selections and ran some mental calculations. “You paying as a group?”
Steel-Eyes grunted and pulled out his magical bag.
Heylas smiled and nodded. “For the lot, it’ll be eight helms. And that’s a bargain.”
Steel-Eyes turned around to hide the contents of the bag and turned back around with a crown and several helms, which he handed to Heylas.
Heylas grinned. “Why, thank you! And Wayseras wasn’t sure you could pay.”
Larkin chuckled. “Thanks, new friend. These clothes are nice. And so warm!”
“That’s the idea,” said Heylas. “Glad I could help. Good luck to you all.” He walked forward and whispered to Sash, who followed him to a corner of the room. They began a quiet conversation.
“You should be good to travel again in the morning,” said Wayseras.
“And you’re coming with us,” urged Asp.
Wayseras grinned. “I’m still thinking about it.”
“I’m gonna run around in the snow!” cried Larkin, dashing to the backdoor and throwing it open. She ran outside and frolicked in the snow. “I’m still warm!”
Asp chuckled and rubbed the furs she was wearing. “It’s good work.”
Steel-Eyes grunted and set to working on the house once more, this time attending to cracked stones in the hearth. A few magical utterings, and the stones reformed. Beside him, Wayseras stared into the flames quietly.
Asp retreated to the opposite corner from where Heylas and Sash were talking. She withdrew several sheets of paper and her inkpen and began to write. Leaving a few numerical spaces blank, she drafted a collection of loan reports with Wayseras’s name at the top. On each document, she wrote the words “Paid in full.” Each report was varied in design and followed the general layout of the financial documents she had seen in the past. I doubt I’ll have time to draft an exact copy in the bank when I go in the morning, so hopefully one of these is close enough to do the trick. Having him turn in the money he owes all at once would raise too many eyebrows, but I’m hoping that a recordkeeping error is believable. At least believable enough that they don’t send anybody after him. Besides, if my drafts are completely off, I can do a quick alteration while I’m there. We just need to get him free from this place.
Asp looked up from her work. Larkin’s romping in the snow had evidently tired her out, as she was snoring soundly in an armchair in the living room. Steel-Eyes was hammering a crooked nail back into a floorboard. Heylas whispered one last sentence to Sash and made for the door.
“Good doing business with you,” said the fur seller. He grabbed his bag, no longer overflowing, and headed out into the snow.
Sash gestured to Steel-Asp and Asp to join them in the corner. The two adventurers joined them. Sash licked their lips and spoke.
“Heylas thinks we should take Wayseras with us.”
“That’s what I’m saying,” said Asp. “What’d Heylas say?”
Sash sighed. “He said that Wayseras is drowning here. He said the boy basically spends all his time trying to run the farm, which he barely knows how to do. He said it’s only a matter of time until the debt catches up to him.” Sash looked down at the floorboards. “He said anywhere is better than here for Wayseras.”
“Wayseras is the only one of us that isn’t sure he’s coming,” said Asp. “I said everything I could to get him to come along. Maybe he’ll trust you two more.”
“Wayseras,” called Steel-Eyes.
Wayseras stood from in front of the fire and rubbed some sleep from his eyes. He walked over and joined the group in the corner.
“We think you really should come with us,” said Sash.
“Come along,” agreed Steel-Eyes. “Learn magic.”
“I can’t afford it,” said Wayseras. “And this place is all I know.”
“We can afford it,” argued Sash. “We owe you for your help. Let us help you in return.”
Wayseras frowned. “I can’t ask for all that. I gave you a sad little meal and a floor to sleep on. What you’re offering is too much.”
“Too much,” repeated Steel-Eyes. “People in town say your help to us is too much.”
Wayseras’s eyes shone. “But they’re wrong.”
“Can’t you be wrong?” asked Sash. “Maybe the right thing to do is leave this place and start over.”
“It’s all I know,” Wayseras said again.
“If I may,” said Asp. “I told you what I used to be like. I didn’t tell you I’m now a healer. I serve a gentle god who helps people. Conning was all I knew. It was all I thought I could know. But I was wrong. Somewhere inside of you, Wayseras, you want to do magic, and I’m betting it’s so that you can do something good with it. What good can you do here, with a failing farm, with mounting debt, with nobody around you? Please. Come with us. Start over. Do the good you know you can. Be surprised by how much good you can do. Do it for your parents–would they want you here, stuck at this farm like this? Do it for yourself. You deserve a good life.” Her eyes brimmed with tears, and she knew she was speaking on some level to her past self. She saw the stubbornness in Wayseras’s eyes and recognized it as her own. “Please. Allow yourself to be happy and do something that will make you proud.”
Wayseras stared back at her, biting his lip. He began to speak, and his voice cracked. He started again. “Only if you agree to let me pay you back.”
“You don’t need to–” began Sash.
“Agreed,” interrupted Asp. “When you have enough money to pay us back for all this, just let us know.”
Wayseras nodded. “Okay. I’ll come along.”
“Get some sleep,” said Asp. “We’re leaving early tomorrow morning.”
Wayseras nodded. “Thanks.” He turned and went to the bedroom, flopping onto the bed. He was snoring within seconds.
“You want him to pay us back?” asked Sash, an eyebrow raised.
Asp laughed. “He’ll be studying at the academy for years, and we’re bound for every corner of this continent. If he can find us, sure, let him pay us back. But I’m betting we’ll be gone to the wind by the time he has coin enough to pay us.”
Sash shook their head, smiling. “I see someone doesn’t mind the occasional scheme even though she’s serving a god.”
Asp smiled mischievously. “I didn’t lie. I just gave him a deal that it’ll be impossible to make good on. We’re helping him. And it’s a goddess.”
Sash nodded. “Fair enough. As long as your goddess doesn’t mind.”
“I’ll find out,” said Asp. “In the meantime, we should get some rest too.”
“Good night,” muttered Steel-Eyes, lying down on the floor near the fire.
“Good night,” said Sash, sitting down in a corner to meditate.
Asp crossed to a spot just a bit away from Steel-Eyes. “Night,” she said. She began to pray.
Idunna, I hope it’s okay to be a little tricky with people if I mean to do good. I just know not everybody will accept help. It’s all in the name of helping people, I promise. I’m sorry if it’s not okay, but I want to make sure the best things happen to good people.
Asp faded off to sleep before she could close her prayer, and the last thing she remembered before passing out was the sight of a daisy before her closed eyes.
—
“Wake up.”
Asp opened her eyes. Steel-Eyes was standing over her. Seeing that she’d awoken, he stood up and shuffled off to the bedroom, where he also woke Wayseras, who moaned in complaint at being roused from sleep. Larkin was sitting before the fire, stoking it back to life, and Sash was repacking their bag. Wayseras came from the bedroom and began making tea at the fire.
“Today’s the day,” he said.
“Today’s the day,” echoed Larkin happily. “Off to Lo’Thalas!”
“You feeling ready?” asked Asp.
Wayseras turned to face her. His expression was mostly excited. “I guess so.”
Asp rose and went to Wayseras’s side, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Think of your parents. They would want you to be happy, right?”
Wayseras nodded. “They would.”
She smiled back at him. “So they would be excited for you to leave this place behind and start over with a real chance at happiness.”
Steel-Eyes came and stood next to them. “It could be worse. You could be dead.”
Wayseras flinched and tested the temperature of the water, and Steel-Eyes shuffled away.
“Don’t mind him,” whispered Asp. “He’s trying to help. But really, think of how much fun you’re going to have learning magic. Think of how proud your parents would be of your spellcasting, of your good deeds, or what you’ll do with your future. That’s all that really matters.”
The boy nodded and looked around the farmhouse. “They loved this place.”
Asp took his chin and turned him to face her. “Listen to me. In this life, there are good things and things that hurt you. I listened to the things that hurt me for a long time. It’s my biggest regret in life now. Don’t trust the things that hurt you. Trust the good things. Leaving here is a good thing. I promise.”
Wayseras smiled. “Thanks, Penelope. Can you finish the tea? I’m gonna pack my things.”
“Of course,” said Asp. Wayseras rose from the hearth and went to the bedroom, where shuffling sounds and the opening and closing of drawers told her that he was busy gathering his possessions. She checked the temperature of the water and judged it ready, pouring it over four cups of tea leaves. She left them on the hearth to steep and sat on the floor, thinking.
We need to make it to Lo’Thalas and hope that Leonarra is willing to help us. We’re not asking for a signature alone, which is already a lot to ask. We need use of special magic that she may not be willing to share with just anyone. Our only hope of getting this mission done is if she helps us, and that means we have to put everything we have into getting on her good side. No slip-ups. No mistakes. No unnecessary risks. We need Sash to do most of the talking, and we need Steel-Eyes and his bluntness to be quiet. And Larkin’s childlike thing too. I hate to limit them, but we cannot play games. There is no second chance here. Either Leonarra likes us and helps us, or it’s all over. We need to be careful.
“Ready,” said Wayseras. He held a cloth backpack, which judging from how empty it appeared to be, held what little the boy owned and could carry. It wasn’t much. He sat before the hearth and sipped his tea, joined by the others. Asp stood apart from them and watched, her mind sifting through plans–what to tell Sash to say, what to pray for, how to make a good impression with Leonarra. Before she knew it, her friends were standing, their tea finished.
“Let’s go,” said Steel-Eyes.
They trooped out of the farmhouse and back towards town. The snowfall from the night before had created drifts as far as the eye could see, and when Asp took a step, the snow came up nearly to her waist. After a careful trek across the farmland, they arrived in town and joined up with the cleared main road, a relief after the arduous process of climbing through the thick snow.
In town, people stared at them. Following their gaze, Asp saw that they were more interested in seeing Wayseras carrying a traveling pack than in the outsiders he was with. Sash noticed too, and they walked close to Wayseras, politely waving to each person who scrutinized the boy.
Asp sighted a small building with a sign that read “Lo’Anagroth Bank.” She turned to her allies. “I’ll catch up with you. Be right back.”
“Don’t take long,” called Sash. “We need to make good time.”
“I’ll be right there!” replied Asp. She hurried toward the bank and ducked inside.
It was a simple square room, a counter along one side. An elderly woman was counting out coins behind the counter, and two people stood in line before her, a middle-aged man with suspenders and a young woman with tired eyes behind him. All of them were elves, and none of them seemed to notice as she crept along the wall behind them. Using everything she’d ever learned about sneaking unnoticed, she slunk behind the counter and past the teller into the backroom beyond.
In this room, dozens of loose papers sat on a table. She quickly inspected them–a foreclosure notice, a deposit slip, a balance sheet. After a moment, she found a loan statement. She frowned. It was unlike those she’d prepared, and the bank teller’s handwriting was nothing like hers. Setting her jaw, Asp grabbed a blank piece of parchment from the table and began to copy the loan statement in a mimic of the teller’s handwriting. In place of what she saw before her, she wrote in Wayseras’s name and the location of his farm. In a careful impersonation of the teller’s handwriting, she wrote in bold letters, “Paid in full” and a date from the week before. She set it under a few of the other documents to make it appear it had sat neglected for a week and crept back to the door. The teller and the tired young woman were deep in conversation. Asp snuck around the counter and behind the young woman, darting out the door.
Outside, she breathed deeply a few times to relieve her stress. But she did not rest completely; she began to run down the road after her friends, trying to add exuberance to her manner as she went so that she simply appeared to be a child at play. After a few minutes, she caught up with the group as they were rounding a bend up further into the mountains.
“You okay, Penelope?” asked Larkin. “You’re out of breath.”
Asp smiled, panting. “Just had one last piece of business in town.”
“What’d you have to do?” asked Wayseras.
Asp chuckled. “Just tying up some loose ends. Nothing important.”
“Did you hear that?” asked Sash.
“Hear what?” asked Larkin.
“Wolf,” muttered Steel-Eyes.
“Wayseras, get in the middle of us,” ordered Sash. Uneasily, Wayseras walked in the center of the group, Sash ahead, Steel-Eyes and Guy at his left, Larkin at his right, and Asp behind him.
They marched onward for a while, and the howls of wolves grew louder and more frequent. With each howl, the group pressed closer around Wayseras. After an hour, they were barely a foot from the boy, walking along the snowy road in a small cluster.
“Thanks for the protection,” said Wayseras after a while. “The wolves up here are really bad. Vicious.” There was a tremble in his voice.
A crash to the right sounded. Larkin turned and drew the Bow of Sariel. Through the trees beyond, a group of massive boars charged toward them, a cadre of armed elves riding atop them. All of them held bows at the ready, heavy arrows nocked.
“Stand down!” cried one of the riders, their apparent leader–a brown-haired elven woman in steel-and-leather armor, blue warpaint on her cheeks and brow. Her shout was aimed at the group of travelers.
“Don’t shoot!” cried Asp in a high voice and her best Lo’Torrin accent. She dove to the ground and covered her head.
“It’s just a child.” The boar-riding woman held up a fist, and the other elves with her lowered their bows. “We are the Rangers of Lo’Thalas. I am Myrdin Leovaras,” she said. “Identify yourselves.”
Sash took a half-step toward them, hands raised with palms up. “I am Sasharaan, protector of the reef of Godtide Sasharaan. I am the steward of the archipelago there. We are on a mission of peace, and we mean to deliver this young man to the academy of Lo’Thalas.” They gestured to Wayseras.
Myrdin nodded. “The wolves are in rare form today. We will escort you to the capital. Come along before the wolves come.”
She spurred her boar onward, joining up with the road further up the mountain. She motioned the group forward, and they followed her while the other Rangers fell in around them, forming a protective ring around the travelers as they had with Wayseras.
“Tell me about your mission of peace, Sasharan,” said Myrdin. Though what she spoke was an order, she issued it without condescension or enmity–simply confidence and urgency.
Sash took a deep breath. “We have been traveling Afira, speaking to the elven leaders of the land. Our goal is to obtain the support of each so that we can bring peace to the elves and end the war with the Ronan’el. We have been through a great deal. Beyond traveling to multiple capitals already, we have been waylaid by all manner of complications. Strange people on the road, undead monsters, even vampires.”
Myrdin nodded. “So I see. Times have been strange, and getting stranger. Do you recall the Paladins of Dagien?”
Sash shook their head. “I am unfamiliar.”
Myrdin sighed. “They protected the people of the mountain. Until they were rounded up and executed by the old Lord of the Mountain. But then he was deposed. That led to the reign of the new Queen of the Mountain.”
“Lady Leonarra,” said Sash.
“Precisely,” confirmed Myrdin. “The main service of the Paladins was keeping people safe from the wolves.” She turned and looked at Sash. “The werewolves. We may encounter some on the way. Will you help us to fight them if we do?”
“We will,” replied Sash.
“We must rid ourselves of this blight,” continued Myrdin. “To start over, you must burn the whole field.”
Asp began to speak and barely caught herself in time to use her higher register and accent. “Do you need to destroy what came before to change?”
“Not in all cases,” said Myrdin. “But in this one, yes.”
“I will pray for Lo’Thalas and our success,” said Sash.
“Me too!” cried Larkin.
The two of them lowered their heads and began to pray, and Asp quietly joined them.
Idunna, please bless Lo’Thalas and protect its people from werewolves. Please protect us from werewolves. Please allow us safe passage to Leonarra.
Asp smelled cherry blossoms as they continued to march, but a sound ahead distracted her from appreciating the scent. She looked ahead and spotted a group of massive wolves racing toward them.
“Attack!” cried Myrdin, snapping the reins on her boar.
Asp reached out and placed a hand on Wayseras.
Idunna, please protect him from harm.
A pink light erupted from her hand and covered Wayseras’s body. Sash too placed a hand on the boy and prayed, and a wash of blue light mixed with the light from Asp’s prayer. Wayseras’s eyes were wide, but he stood firm.
The Rangers began to fire their bows. Arrows rained on the wolves, most of which struck the beasts. A few of the wolves’ forms shifted into more humanoid shapes, sprinting and ducking under the hail of arrows and avoiding them with their smaller frames.
Asp drew her crossbow and aimed it at the head of one of the nearest werewolves, which had changed into human form. She pulled the trigger. The bolt flew past a mounted Ranger and struck the werewolf in the right eye. Its head snapped backwards, and it fell to the ground, dead. Don’t freak out, she told herself. You can freak out when the werewolves are done.
Sash muttered a spell and leapt into the air. They soared well above the height any elf could, vaulting over a Ranger and coming down on top of a werewolf still in wolf form. They thrust their trident down hard, driving it through the werewolf’s body and pinning it to the snowy ground. Sash stood atop the werewolf, out of reach of its claws and mouth, and kept it from moving.
Two other werewolves drew close. They charged the boars and bit and slashed at the beasts. One tore the throat from a boar, and another scratched out a boar’s stomach, guts falling to the ground and steaming on the snow. The Rangers who had been riding the boars dismounted and squared off with the werewolves, circling around to be at each others’ backs.
Steel-Eyes approached the two Rangers who had been robbed of their boars. He clapped a hand onto their shoulders and shouted a spell, and deep green light shot from both of them. The Rangers inched forward, brandishing swords at the werewolves, and chopped at the monsters’ heads; one made contact, the werewolf he struck letting loose a pained howl and falling to the ground, bleeding heavily, and the other missed just slightly as his werewolf ducked the blow.
Asp sighted another werewolf closing in on Myrdin, who was facing her Rangers and shouting orders as she loosed an arrow that struck a werewolf in the heart. Asp lifted her crossbow again and lined up the sights with the werewolf’s head as it drew closer to Myrdin. She once again pulled the trigger, and the bolt flew true. It buried itself in the left eye, and the werewolf skidded to a halt in the snow just feet from Myrdin, slain.
Larkin surveyed the scene. In the pitch of battle, several of the Rangers had been hurt by werewolves. She shouted magic words, and a blinding white light surrounded three wounded Rangers, claw marks along their skin. As they fought the werewolves, their wounds closed up, and they charged forward with renewed vigor.
Steel-Eyes turned and saw a werewolf bearing down on him. He slammed a fist against his own chest and yelled out again, and a blazing blue light enveloped him. The werewolf lunged and scraped a claw along Steel-Eyes arm, but the blue light flickered, and the werewolf’s claw came away with Steel-Eyes’s arm unscathed. Steel-Eyes hefted a hammer and slammed it against the werewolf’s head, knocking it out.
Still atop the pinned werewolf, Sash kicked it hard in the head, rendering it unconscious. They ripped the trident back up out of the ground and through the werewolf’s body and leapt to the ground, charging one of the five remaining werewolves. They feinted as though they would leap up again, and the werewolf opened its mouth to bite. But Sash instead jammed the trident down into the werewolf’s mouth, ripping into its neck. The werewolf struggled on the trident’s spikes for a moment and died.
Guy lumbered toward the largest of the werewolves, which had a ring of white fur around its neck, and the metal man shifted and grew to be nearly three times his size. Guy dove onto the werewolf and grappled with it, and after a moment, he held the werewolf’s two front legs up and open wide. The werewolf kicked and tried to free itself, but it could not escape Guy’s grip.
One of the three free werewolves charged toward Guy to free the restrained one. Asp raised her crossbow and aimed. This time, the werewolf was running perpendicular to her, and she knew that aiming for its face as she had before was a risk that may not pay off. She lowered her sights to the werewolf’s neck and aimed just ahead of it. She pulled the trigger. The bolt flew forward and plunged into the werewolf’s throat. Before it could reach Guy, it fell to the ground, its life and blood leaving it quickly. Asp turned to aim at another werewolf reflexively but could not get a clear shot, so she waited.
A werewolf charged a Ranger with their back turned. “Behind you!” shouted Myrdin. The Ranger turned, drawing their sword as they went, and swung in a practiced motion. The blade sliced clean through the werewolf’s neck, neatly decapitating it before it could land its attack.
The final werewolf could see that the odds were firmly against it. It turned tail and ran. Myrdin pulled back her bow and fired an arrow, then another, and another in an instant. All three arrows struck the fleeing werewolf, and it sank to the ground.
“Kill those left alive,” ordered Myrdin. Quickly, the Rangers went to the two unconscious werewolves and cut their heads from their bodies. Myrdin calmly approached the larger werewolf held by Guy. “You will come with us back to Lo’Thalas,” she told the beast, who transformed into a human. He was scraggly, bearded and long-haired, and his eyes were wild. He snarled at her, and Myrdin simply chuckled and turned back to the Rangers. “Is anyone hurt?”
The Rangers searched their own bodies, looking for wounds. One of the men who Larkin had healed sighed. He raised a hand, a nasty bite mark running along his arm. “I’m sorry,” he said in a steady voice.
Myrdin stepped toward him across the snow. “I’m sorry too.” She placed her forehead against his. Together, they began to cry. They spent several long moments in this embrace, and the man sighed heavily.
“I’m ready,” he said. She drew her sword and ran the man through. He fell to the ground, blood trickling from his mouth.
Asp vomited. Seeing him killed had allowed the fight to catch up with her.
“Burn the bodies,” ordered Myrdin.
The remaining Rangers gathered the corpses of the werewolves into a pile. Larkin hung her head and muttered a spell, and flames sprung from her hands. The werewolves’ bodies were torched under the jet of flame, and the horrible smell of burning flesh filled Asp’s nose once again. She vomited once more.
Myrdin seemed unaffected by the carnage. She turned to Sash. “Myrdin is a fake name. When I am with the Rangers, I go by that name. But in Lo’Thalas, I am Lady Leonarra of the Mountain. I thank you for your service.”
Sash and Asp fell to their knees. “Lady Leonarra,” they said together.
In the distance, the Rangers mourned their fallen ally. Larkin and Steel-Eyes gazed at the burning bodies. Sash and Asp had their heads just above the snow, waiting for permission from Leonarra to raise them. She didn’t grant it. Instead, she cleared her throat and asked a question.
“So, who gave the kid a crossbow?”
You can read the next chapter here!
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