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The months that followed were a whirlwind. With the concerted efforts of Daisy, Larkin, and Candace, Daneel improved rapidly at times and steadily always. After a month, Daneel could stand and walk from her bed to the opposite wall and back. After two, she was able to move around her room with only minimal help. By the third month, she could leave her bed, walk around the room, and walk back on her own. After four months, she left her room for the first time in years, making it all the way to Maela’s throne room before her strength gave out. By month five, she was paying daily visits to Maela, and a comfortable armchair was added to the throne room so that Maela could rest between trips there and back. The progress continued in the sixth month, when Daneel walked to the throne room and stood for most of her visit. It went on and on, and by the ninth month, she was navigating the palace without issue, Candace at her side cheering her on the whole way. After nearly a year, Daneel walked from her room, down the hallways, and out into Capital City. She had a fine lunch with Larkin at a restaurant a few blocks from the palace, and people couldn’t really tell that she was physically any different from anyone else. It was just over a year when Daneel could spend a normal day exploring the city without having to rest.
Maela said that the combined efforts of Daneel’s nursing team had been the source of Daneel’s success. Larkin said it was Daisy’s healing, which only continued to be refined and perfected with the constant work she performed on Daneel. Candace attributed Daneel’s recuperation to Daisy and Larkin’s collaborative efforts at healing–she said she doubted anyone had ever had a pair of highly talented healers working day and night for so long to help one person. Daneel attributed her recovery to having Larkin around to keep her going. Daisy was under the impression that everything had really aligned for Daneel–Maela’s support, Candace’s care, Larkin’s emotional presence, her own healing, and Daneel’s desire to get better were all part of the equation. But in the end, it didn’t matter who was right. What mattered was that Daneel was undeniably well. Daisy counted it a treat that she got a fuller impression of who Daneel really was; the tired, pained woman in a bed had been replaced by a kind and dynamic woman at her best. It grew more and more apparent every day how Larkin had become the young woman she had–with Daneel’s love and example, it was really inevitable.
Larkin’s birthday had come only a few weeks after her and Daisy’s arrival in Capital City, and there had only been a small celebration between the two of them. But when it came again the next year and Daneel was well, it was decided that on Larkin’s birthday, the one marking her true adulthood, there would be a real jubilee to mark the occasion. This was unbeknownst to Larkin. Daisy planned it in secret with Daneel, Candace, and Maela.
The morning of Larkin’s birthday, she arrived at her mother’s room, excited for another day in which she could enjoy the ever-increasing health Daneel enjoyed. She opened the door to discover her companions over the last year waiting with decorations, presents, and treats. Even Spike, Larkin’s cactus which she had placed at her mother’s bedside “for company” was decorated, colorful ribbons tied delicately around his spines.
“Oh, you guys!” cried Larkin, her hands covering her face. “This is so nice!”
“You’re a grown woman now,” said Daneel. “We had to mark the occasion.”
Daisy grinned mischievously. “Happy birthday, Larkin. We’re all very proud of you.”
Larkin smiled so hard that her eyes watered. “And you got me presents?! Oh my gods!”
“I got you something small,” said Candace. “Just a little token of respect.” She handed Larkin a square box the size of her head.
“Thanks, Candace,” replied Larkin. She tore the box open and pulled out a fine aristocrat’s hat, special holes cut in the edges for the fuzzy ears Larkin had gained in the In-Between. “A fancy hat!”
“Something tells me you’ll need it,” said Candace, smiling.
“Open mine next,” said Daisy as Larkin cocked an eyebrow at Candace’s statement. She handed Larkin a flat rectangular box.
Larkin opened the box and withdrew an amulet, a hexagonal ruby at the center with one half of the surrounding golden frame a symbol of Sariel and the other the hornkin crest. “Awwwww, I love it!” she cried. “It’s so pretty!”
Daisy smiled. “I blessed it myself. If everything went correctly, it should give you a strengthened connection to Sariel, but tempered by your own hornkin version of her. And it should only work for you, which is why I couldn’t test it.”
Larkin smiled, tears forming in her eyes. “Daisy, that’s so sweet! Oh my gods!”
“I have something for you too, dear,” said Daneel. She grabbed the last of the wrapped boxed, this one oblong and curved in the shape of an oval. She handed it to Larkin and smiled.
Larkin grinned and opened the box. She lifted out a curled and polished horn not unlike those on her head. “No way,” she breathed. “It isn’t–”
“It is,” said Daneel. “It’s the Patriarch’s Horn.”
Larkin cried happily and clutched the horn to her face. She turned to Daisy and Candace. “This is a horn from the hornkin who started our clan. Whoever has it is the leader of the clan.”
“We know,” said Daisy. “Your mom told us all about it.”
“But how?” Larkin asked her mother. “How did you get this? I thought it was lost.”
Daneel smiled gently at her daughter. “As soon as I was well enough to write, I began writing to the clan back home. They sent it to me. And I want you to have it.”
“But am I ready for that?” asked Larkin.
“You are. This one’s from me,” said Maela, handing Larkin an envelope.
Larkin furrowed her brow. “A paper?”
Maela smiled. “Read it.”
Larkin took the envelope, opened it, and withdrew the few pages inside it. Her eyes scanned back and forth across the text, a growing smile on her face. When she finished, she held the letter at her side. “For real?!”
Maela nodded.
Larkin began speaking quickly, explaining the contents of the letter to the rest of them. “I’ve been writing to the hornkin around Gritt, one of the other provinces around the lake. They live in the mountains there. They’ve had to hide for a long time. And so they’ve been separated. And I’ve been trying to get them all together, and High Queen Maela’s been helping me, and this letter says that they all want to meet in Groff, the big city there, and they want to start a new settlement like I said we should! And they–” She broke off, wiping a tear from her eye. “They want me to organize everything!”
Candace, Daisy, and Daneel could not withhold their smiles.
“Which is why you’ll need to look like a leader with your fancy hat,” said Candace.
“And why you’ll need connection to your deity and your hornkin identity,” added Daisy.
“And it won’t hurt to have the emblem of our people,” continued Daneel.
Larkin’s eyes widened. “You all–you knew? You planned all this?”
“Are you excited?” asked Daisy.
Larkin laughed. “I’m so excited I can’t breathe.”
“Well keep breathing,” said Daisy. “I don’t wanna have to heal you.”
Larkin breathed deeply. “Oh man, I’m gonna make a city for hornkin from everywhere. Somewhere that’s home. Somewhere we can all live in peace for once.” She turned to her mother. “But I don’t want to leave you.”
Daneel chuckled. “Oh, Larkin, don’t be silly. I’m coming with you. I’m well enough for it. I can’t wait to see just how proud you make me by doing all that.”
“You have my support if there’s anything I can do,” said Maela. “Just write me.”
“And we’ll visit soon,” added Daisy, holding Candace’s hand. “I look forward to seeing your hornkin city.”
Larkin grinned. She slipped her amulet on over her neck and placed Candace’s hat on her head. She held the Patriarch's Horn and the letter from the hornkin of Gritt and spun in a circle. “Best birthday ever,” she gushed.
Daisy smiled. “You know, back in Thistlewade, I used to do this thing with my family on birthdays. We would make up a new birthday song every year. It’s very silly, and I haven’t done it in a very long time, but this seems like the right occasion, so here goes:
“You’ve helped so many people and done so much endless good
You’ve been a better person than almost anybody could
So on this birthday we are here to celebrate with you
And can’t wait to see the future and all of your dreams come true.”
Daisy chuckled. “I know I’m not exactly a good singer, but it’s from the heart.”
Larkin’s mouth hung open. “Daisy! Did you write that?”
Daisy laughed and shrugged. “I just made it up. I mean, it’s just a silly little song.”
Larkin laughed too. “I’m gonna miss you.”
Daisy smiled. “I’m gonna miss you too. But I know you’re gonna kick some ass, and me and Candace have plans too. It’s time.”
Larkin grinned. “Your clinic plan?”
Maela raised an eyebrow. “Clinic plan?”
Daisy nodded. “Candace and I want to start a little clinic here in town. If that’s okay, I mean. Just a place that offers free healing for poor folks since the Rectifiers won’t exactly help them.”
Maela smiled. “The Rectifiers won’t like that.”
Daisy nodded again. “Yeah. But it’s the right thing to do. Worst that happens is we get run out of town, and we start over somewhere else.” She turned to Candace. “Right?”
“Yeah,” said Candace. “I’d like it to be here, but there are people all over who need help.”
Maela’s smile extended. “Even the Rectifiers would leave you be if they knew I was backing you.”
Daisy’s eyes widened. “You would do that?”
Maela nodded. “You want to help my people for nothing in return. It’s the least I can do, especially after what you’ve done for Daneel.”
“Thank you,” said Daisy, bowing.
“Thank you, High Queen,” added Candace.
“I thank you for helping my people,” replied Maela. “Now, I have details to discuss with Larkin and Daneel about their journey. Would you excuse us?”
“Of course,” said Daisy, bowing again and hurrying out the door into the hallway.
Candace followed and closed the door. “She actually offered to help us,” she whispered.
“Told you,” said Daisy, sticking out her tongue.
Candace smiled strangely, and Daisy could see that it wasn’t just their playful back-and-forth. It was dawning on Candace for the first time that they actually could make a future here.
“Let’s get married,” said Candace as they walked back towards her room. “I think it’s time.”
Daisy grinned. “Yeah? I thought you wanted to wait until things were more stable. Like when the clinic is already set up and everything.”
Candace rolled her eyes. “I want to start our future together. Really together. Let’s get married tomorrow.”
Daisy chuckled. “We don’t have dresses for it. We don’t have rings.”
Candace shook her head. “Do it in your robe. It’s mostly white anyway, and you look great in it. I do have a dress, which I’ve had made in secret, and I do have rings since you got me the first one.”
Daisy opened her mouth in surprise. “You’ve been sneaking around preparing for a wedding? How long have you been getting ready for this?”
Candace smiled mischievously. “Honestly, since you proposed. The priestess over at the temple to the Northern Four where you go said she’d make time whenever we’re ready.”
Daisy’s eyes shone as they entered Candace’s room. “You want to get married there? I didn’t think you were a fan of the whole Idunna thing.”
Candace chuckled. “You brought me around. I’m not gonna go becoming a priestess of her any time soon, but I see what you do with it, the way you believe, and she is a goddess of love, after all.”
Daisy fought back tears. “That means so much to me, Candy. I really appreciate it.”
Candace grinned. “Tomorrow, then. Say it with me. Tomorrow, we get married.”
Daisy chuckled. “Tomorrow, we get married.”
Rose arched her back and stretched. “Mrow.”
“Can she be our flower girl?” asked Daisy.
“And ring bearer,” said Candace.
“I dunno about that,” replied Daisy. “She might not actually bring them to us.”
Candace smiled. “She will if I have fish up at the altar.”
Rose seemed to recognize the word “fish.” “Mrooooow.”
Daisy smiled. “I should spend the night in my room, then. According to tradition, you’re not supposed to see me until the wedding.”
Candace chuckled. “Shut up. We’re not exactly a traditional couple. Stay.”
Daisy grinned and looked away playfully. “Okay, twist my arm.” She leapt up onto the bed.
Candace lay down beside her and stared into her eyes. “So, guess who ended up accidentally going into the same jeweler where you got my ring done?”
Daisy laughed. “Did you really?”
Candace smiled. “You want quality custom work, you go to Petunia. She recognized my ring right away. She wished us well.”
Daisy smiled back. “I can’t wait to see the rings. She does good work.”
Candace leaned in and kissed her. “To the future.”
Daisy smiled so hard it hurt. “To the future.”
—
“It hurts,” said the boy. “It really hurts.”
Daisy nodded and sighed. “I know. It looks like it hurts. Gimme a second.” She began the Chant, and white and pink light moved from her fingers to the human lad’s broken arm. Candace was holding his arm in place, having set it back to alignment a moment before. The magic stitched the bone back together, and the grimace on the boy’s face faded. “Is that better?” asked Daisy.
The boy, who seemed to be about ten, nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
Daisy chuckled. “You can call me Daisy. Ma’am is for old ladies and royalty, and I’m neither.”
The boy laughed. “Okay. Thanks, Daisy.”
“How’d you break it?” she asked.
“Climbing a tree.”
Daisy shook her head. “You mean, falling out of a tree. Climbing a tree does not snap both bones in your forearm if you do it right,” she said playfully.
The boy blushed. “Fine, falling out of a tree.”
Daisy chuckled. “The trick to tree-climbing is always have no more than one limb moving at a time. And that especially means no jumping. Trust me, I lived in a tree for years.”
The boy raised his eyebrows. “You did?”
Candace sighed, then laughed. “She really did.”
The boy laughed. “Okay, just one limb moving at a time.”
Daisy smiled. “Good. You’ll notice I’m not saying don’t go climbing trees anymore. Kids gotta play. I’m saying be careful. But if you do fall again, don’t hesitate to come back. I’d rather heal you again than yell at you.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “I mean, Daisy.”
Daisy grinned. “Now what’s your name?”
“Roger.”
“Now listen, Roger,” said Daisy, “I want you to tell all your friends that if they get hurt, they come here straight away. Can you do that?”
Roger nodded, but his face was sad. “I don’t have many friends.”
Daisy frowned. “Why not?”
Roger shrugged. “I have to work. My folks don’t have a lot of money.”
Daisy nodded. “You got enough to have dinner tonight?”
“I mean, kinda.”
Daisy shook her head. “Kinda is not a yes.” She reached into her coinpurse and withdrew a few helms and handed them to Roger. “Run out and grab some food and take it home to your folks. Bring them a nice dinner. Don’t spend it all, though. Better to eat for a few days than feast one day and starve the next.”
Roger nodded, his eyes wide. “Wow, thanks, Daisy.”
Daisy turned to Candace. “Please give him one of your fortifying tonics. If he’s not eating well, his bones might be weak and prone to breaking again.”
Candace went to a cabinet on the nearby wall and returned with a small bottle of thick yellow liquid and a jug of water. She uncapped it and handed it to Roger. “This is gonna be a little bitter and pretty salty. The water will wash the taste out of your mouth.”
Roger downed the yellow liquid and and guzzled some water. “Yeccch,” he moaned. “It’s more than a little bitter.”
Daisy chuckled. “Roger, I have one last thing for you, okay? You go out there and be your most charming self and make some friends. It’s scary at first, but people like confidence, so just be you without apologizing for it. And if you have a hard time making new friends, come back here and hang out with us. As long as you don’t get in the way of other patients, you can spend all the time here you like.”
Roger smiled despite himself. “Okay. Am I free to go?”
Daisy laughed. “You’re free to go. Have a good day now, and remember everything I said.”
Roger dashed out of the clinic as quickly as he’d come in several minutes before. There were no other patients at the moment, so Daisy and Candace walked out into the street outside and looked up and down the way. It was quiet as always, and no one seemed to need medical attention, so Daisy did one of her favorite things at a time like this: she turned and inspected the clinic.
It was a fairly large building nestled between an alchemical supply store where Candace bought the ingredients for the potions, salves, and tonics she had taught herself to make and a tavern where Daisy sometimes sent recovering patients to stay when the clinic was overflowing. A large sign out front read “Bloom Clinic - Free Healing and Medical Care for All” in white lettering with pink borders. It had been a somewhat rundown building when they’d purchased it, a former general store that had gone under. But Daisy used what her carpenter father had taught her to make repairs, build a fleet of beds from the former shop’s shelving, and improve a few of the building’s less appropriate features, like erecting thin walls between beds for privacy out of the materials that had once walled the storage in the back from the public. They had nearly three dozen beds available and a small space in the corner where Candace worked on alchemical products. But this was only the larger part of the space. About two thirds of the building was the clinic, and the remaining third had been converted into a shrine to Idunna. From the front of the clinic, Daisy could see the sign that Candace had painted for the shrine. It featured a beautiful white doe’s silhouette and simply read “Idunna shrine, service daily at noon.” Inside was a hand-built altar Daisy had made from a fallen willow tree that she and Candace had found on a jaunt outside of Capital City, a collection of trinkets they had gathered or made and blessed atop it. It was not like the small shrine in the modest temple to the Northern Four that had already existed. That temple was more a catchall space for Northreach believers that was run by one priestess with passing knowledge of each season’s goddess; Daisy’s shrine was meticulously cared for, focused entirely on Idunna, and offered service to any who were devoted or curious. In the year and a half that the clinic and shrine had been open, Daisy had gone from a couple of curious investigators to a small but devoted congregation of believers. She had even taken two aspiring servants of Idunna under her wing, one a priest who focused on agricultural fertility in the area outside of Capital City, and one a priestess who like Daisy was a dedicated healer. The priestess, a human teenager named Abigail, was a cautious and studious girl who Daisy had healed of a painful rash that covered her body in the first few weeks the clinic was open, and like Candace, the experience of being cared for had inspired her to try her own hand at it. It was a humble little establishment, but Daisy and Candace had poured every bit of their hearts and souls into it, and Daisy felt that every day working in the clinic brought more joy than she knew was possible before she came to the city.
“Rectifiers,” whispered Candace.
Daisy turned from admiring the clinic and watched with narrowed eyes as a group of red-robed Rectifiers stalked past the clinic.
“Same time every day,” said Candace once they’d passed. “They’re watching us.”
“Probably true,” replied Daisy. “But it doesn’t matter. They know Maela has our backs. I think they’re mostly pissed off because they think we’re stealing clients, even though nobody we help could afford to get their help anyway.”
Candace shook her head. “The longer we do this, the more sure I am it’s the right thing. I was never in doubt of it, but the more they try to intimidate us, the more I hope we’re pissing them off.”
Daisy chuckled. “I promise you they’re pissed, no need to doubt it. Last week, you were tending to that older guy who had passed out, and I was helping the girl who’d been cut and wouldn’t stop bleeding. The kid told me her dad is a Rectifier. She came to us instead of him. We’re making a dent, Candy. People know they can come to us.”
Candace smiled. “You’re right. I just–it burns me up that they think they can intimidate us.”
Daisy laughed. “Candy, that’s what they want. They want a reaction. Let it slide off your back. Let it be nothing to you. Just smile because we have people to help.”
Candace nodded. “Speaking of which, I think I see our next patient.” She looked towards a middle-aged human man hobbling towards them, an arrow buried halfway in his thigh.
“Go get your tools,” said Daisy, rubbing her hands together. “You gotta get that out before I can heal him. Extra bandages too, given the placement of the arrow.”
Candace turned and went to her supply cabinet, and Daisy walked out to meet the man and help him inside.
“Come on in, sir,” she said. “What’s your name?”
The man grunted as he shifted his weight onto his injured leg with each step. “Paul,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Okay, Paul, don’t you worry,” she said, guiding him to the bed closest to the entrance. “Lie down. Candace is going to remove the arrow, and then I’ll patch you up.”
Candace swept up with an armful of supplies which she set down on a small table by the bed. “Bite this,” she said, handing him a strap of leather. “We clean it and bless it between patients, don’t worry. This is going to hurt. I’m gonna pull it out on five, okay? Ready?”
Paul bit the leather. “Ready,” he mumbled through the leather strip.
“Okay,” said Candace. “One . . . two . . . three . . .” She yanked the arrow out of Paul’s leg and braced a thick bandage against the wound. The bandage almost instantly turned crimson.
Daisy was already performing the Chant when the arrow came out. Within a few seconds, the familiar white and pink light danced from her hands into the wound, and the look of pain on Paul’s face faded into calm. He removed the leather from his mouth.
“You said it would be on five,” he muttered.
Candace chuckled. “It hurts less if you’re not bracing for it.”
He sighed. “That’s much better.”
Candace nodded. “I’m gonna check your leg to see if there’s any other damage. Let me know if any of this hurts.” She poked and squeezed around the wound. Paul winced when she prodded at spots a few inches around where the arrow had sunk into him.
Candace scowled and studied the removed arrow. Part of the steel tip was missing. She sighed. “You got a little bit of the arrowhead still in there. Must’ve hit the bone and broken a bit. Probably fractured the bone, too. Hit him again.”
Daisy nodded. “Fair warning–this is gonna suck for a few seconds.”
Paul returned the leather strip to his mouth and bit down.
Daisy recited the Chant, focusing her mind on removing the portion of arrowhead still inside his leg and mending any damage to the bone. Paul groaned in pain, and Candace removed the bandage for a second to find a shard of steel poking out of his skin. She yanked it out, and as Daisy finished the Chant, the wound closed.
“Okay, I’m gonna check for pain again,” said Candace. She again poked and squeezed at his thigh, and this time, Paul made no sound. “Seems like you’re good,” she said.
Paul sat up on the bed and breathed deeply. “Thanks. I’ve been dragging that leg around with that damn arrow in it for miles.”
Daisy grimaced. “That must have been awful. You okay?”
Paul nodded. “Much better. Honestly, it feels like it never happened. You two are good.”
Candace grinned. “We do our best.”
Daisy smiled too. “Thanks. So, dare I ask how you got an arrow in your leg?”
Paul laughed. “Does it matter?”
Daisy shrugged. “I like to check. I mean, if there’s anything else we can do to help, we will.”
Paul chuckled. “Altercation on the road into town. Not everyone likes private investigators.”
Daisy smiled. “You’re an investigator. Sorry you met the wrong person. You headed to the city guard to report him?”
Paul shook his head. “No need. I got the bastard. A bow and arrow are no good when there’s someone clubbing you from a foot away.”
Daisy raised her eyebrows and exhaled sharply. “Ah. So I see. Unfortunate it had to go that way, but I’m glad you came away from it alive if injured.”
Paul nodded. “Never go to Strey if you can manage it. Full of scum and thugs.”
Daisy and Candace laughed.
Paul raised an eyebrow. “I take it you’ve heard tale of that wretched place?”
Candace shook her head. “We met there.”
“Ah,” said Paul. “So you know firsthand.”
Daisy and Candace shared a private look.
“We do,” said Daisy. “What took you to Strey? It’s an awfully long ways off for someone here.”
“Tracking down one of the worst,” replied Paul. “I’d gotten four different reports of the same asshole out there scamming people, cheating at cards, trying to put together a gang. Human guy, stupid goatee, huge ego. Record a mile and a half long.”
Daisy and Candace looked at each other in shock.
“And you found him?” asked Daisy.
Paul shrugged. “What was left of him. He cheated the wrong person, who did some digging and found out the different names this guy had used. He owed a couple hundred crowns altogether. Got stabbed in a tavern, crawled to his room, and bled to death. Honestly, the world’s better off without him.”
Candace opened her mouth to speak, then closed it. She quietly said, “That description matches someone I knew back there. What was his name?”
Paul laughed. “Which fucking one? He had all kinds of goofy names. Willard Templeton, Abernathy Redmond, Oslo Hollowstride. Who knows what the bastard’s real name was.”
Candace and Daisy looked at each other, eyes wide.
“He the one you knew?” asked Paul, reading their expressions.
“Yeah,” said Daisy. “And you’re right: the world is better off without him.”
Paul sighed. “Tell you what–I know this is a free clinic and all, but given how I didn’t expect to walk right ever again, and given you were unfortunate enough to know that asshole when he was alive, and given I just got paid a decent wage for tracking him down, here’s a little something to cover costs for a while.” He reached into his coinpurse and offered Daisy a small handful of helms and a few crowns.
Daisy held up a hand. “That’s incredibly generous of you, and we do appreciate it, but it is a free clinic.”
Paul shook his head. “I know your type. Too stubborn to take a good thing. I’m putting these coins on this table, and I’m walking out. Take ‘em or leave ‘em. Seriously, I couldn’t keep doing my job if I couldn’t walk. I owe you.” He dropped the money on the table next to the bandages and removed arrow with a clatter.
Daisy raised her eyebrows. “Thank you, sir. This means a lot, and it will help a lot of people.”
“That’s good,” said Paul. “Anyway, I gotta go. You ever need something looked into, find me in my office out by the main road into town on the northeast.” He got up from the bed and walked out of the clinic and disappeared into the crowd.
Candace turned to Daisy. “He’s dead.”
Daisy nodded. “I kinda thought that . . . I would be happy to know that. But I just feel bad for him. He only ever hurt me, but . . . he was just broken, you know?”
Candace shrugged. “Well, he can’t hurt us again.”
Daisy nodded again and closed her eyes. Idunna, please bless Oslo’s soul, wherever it may be. Give him peace and the ability to move on from what he’s done. I don’t know what the gods have planned for him, but I hope he finds peace. I love you. She opened her eyes and smelled cherry blossoms.
“Hey Candy,” she said.
“Yeah?”
“Watch the clinic for a minute? I wanna be with the cats for a bit. I’ll be upstairs if anyone comes in.”
Daisy walked to the back of the clinic and went through a door, then climbed the stairs to the second floor. She and Candace had established a cozy home there–a kitchen where they took turns cooking for each other, a modest living room with a comfortable sofa and special furniture for the cats, and a bedroom where they spent long nights chatting and staring into each other’s eyes as though they had just met and weren’t a couple who’d been married for nearly two years. Daisy sank into the sofa and was immediately set upon by their three cats–Rose with her alternating stripes of dark and light grey, Clover with her clean white fur, and Posie with her stark black coat. Rose was an elder cat now, but she still had the energy of a kitten, and Clover and Posie had only recently stopped growing to their full sizes. Daisy was absolutely covered in purring cats, and she did her best to give each of them attention in turn as the cats swarmed over her.
“My little beauties,” she cooed. “Your mamas got some interesting news today. Yeah, Oslo is dead. Clover, Posie, you never met him–lucky you–but Rose, you remember him. He’s gone now. And I thought I would feel good, but I don’t. I’m just sad that he never figured it out. I wish he’d come around like me and your mama did. I wish he’d stopped being such a jerk and done something good.”
Rose bonked her head against Daisy’s nose. Daisy smiled.
“You’re right, sweetie. I’m being silly. It’s just a thing that happened, and we gotta keep going. There’s plenty of good that needs doing, and being sad because he’s gone isn’t gonna help anyone.”
“Daisy!” called Candace from downstairs.
Daisy smiled and lifted the trio of cats off of her. “See? People to help. Me and your mama will be back later.” She headed back downstairs and joined Candace in helping a wheezing, coughing dwarven woman into a bed. As Daisy performed the Chant, now so automatic that it was essentially always running through her head, she forgot all about Oslo. All there was was healing the sick and being with her wife and running the shrine and caring for the cats.
—
“Wait, so it’s not about the Chant?” asked Abigail.
Daisy sighed happily and shook her head. They had just finished noontime service, and Abigail had questions about healing for Daisy. “It’s not about the words of the Chant. It’s about the feeling you put into the Chant.”
Abigail nodded slowly. “But knowing the Chant is important, right?”
Daisy nodded back. “It’s very important. Without knowing the Chant, we can’t get Idunna’s attention and tap into her power. But if you really mean the Chant, then you help her to know why you’re using it. See, the thing of it is, the Chant is a request. We say the words, and the words are like a way to ask for help. But as you know by now, asking for help can be a lot of different things. We have patients who come in and say, ‘please help me,’ and we have patients who just point to a wound, and we have patients who just expect us to figure it out. Which of those patients are easiest to work on?”
Abigail thought for a moment. “When they tell me what’s wrong, that’s when it’s easiest.”
Daisy smiled and nodded. “Exactly. When they can tell us what the problem is, we know what we need to do to help. Do you see where I’m going with this?”
Abigail nodded. “So when we do the Chant, our feeling when we say it is how Idunna knows what to help with.”
Daisy grinned. “Idunna is brilliant and wise and always helpful. But if we can help her to help people, we make it easier for everyone–Idunna, the people we’re helping, and ourselves. Would you feel up to trying that kind of intention on our next patient?”
Abigail bit her lip. “If they’re not too badly hurt, I suppose.”
Daisy chuckled. “Abigail, why is it that you doubt yourself? You’re such a talented healer already.”
Abigail shrugged. “I can’t heal like you.”
Daisy smiled and sighed. “I’m not in the business of bragging–you know this. But I am a healer who has been doing this for longer than you, and I have a holy relic of Idunna to empower me, and I have a very distinct connection to Idunna. I–” She paused. “I haven’t told anyone in Capital City this. Can I trust you with a secret?”
Abigail narrowed her eyes. “A secret?”
Daisy nodded. “Something only me and Candace know.”
Abigail smiled faintly. “I can keep a secret.”
Daisy smiled back. “Many years ago now, I was basically the opposite of a healer. I grew up as a little thief, and I became a con artist as I grew up. I lived as a criminal for longer than you’ve been alive. I hurt people to get by. And when I reached a certain point, I realized I could not live that way anymore. I just couldn’t. So I turned to Idunna. I asked her to help me change. And she did. I’m not saying go out and live a life of crime. I’m saying, I know the depths of absolute despair that come with living the wrong way. The wrong way was all I knew. And so when I saw the light, I knew it for what it is. It was the opposite of how I’d always lived. My connection to Idunna is rooted in the fact that she saved me. She saved me from myself. She took me from one extreme to the other. So when I pray to her, when I do the Chant, my whole heart is in it. Everything I have is in it. So I want you to think–what does Idunna mean to you? What has she given you?”
Abigail blinked a few times. “You were . . . a criminal?”
Daisy nodded and chose not to fear that she’d lost Abigail. She knew the look in the young woman’s eyes. Abigail was close to hearing what she was saying. “I was. I was desperate and poor and hungry and foolish. And I made the wrong choices. Now answer my question–what has Idunna given you?”
Abigail closed her eyes, lost in thought. “She . . . she saved my life. I thought I was dying. And through you, she saved me.”
Daisy chuckled. “I am nothing. I did not save you. I was nothing but a fast-talking predator before her. She saved you.”
Abigail furrowed her brow. “She saved me. She gave me my life back. And she gave me the chance to help people.”
Daisy nodded. “When you do the Chant with this next patient, I want you to focus on how you felt on that bed when you came to me. Think about how alone and scared and pained you were. Think about the fear of dying. And think about what you feel now. Think about the power you have to help people. Think about the hope you have now. Okay?”
Abigail nodded uncertainly. “I’ll try.”
Daisy smiled. “Good. Now let’s go wait for our next patient.” She led Abigail out of the shrine and into the clinic, where Candace was working on an alchemical process in the corner. Most of the clinic’s beds were occupied. Most of the time these days, they were. The clinic had been open for nearly four years, and in that time, Bloom Clinic had become as prominent a place for the sick and injured as the Rectifiers. Every day, Rectifiers walked past in droves, glaring in at Daisy and Candace, who smiled pleasantly back, waving gently. No longer was Bloom Clinic a site for the city’s poor–middle class families visited, and many offered small donations to help the clinic keep operating. Even a few of the city’s wealthy came to Daisy and Candace once the city had truly heard about how effectively the Bloom Clinic could help them, and Daisy suspected that the friendly manner and emotional support they offered were a part of their appeal. Few days passed when Daisy and Candace did not have to send mostly-recovered patients to the tavern next door to make room for most desperate cases, and Daisy had even managed to convince Candace that it might be possible to expand the clinic by purchasing the building directly behind them–a mid-sized fletcher’s shop–and extend the building to create more room.
At the entrance to the clinic, a human woman carried a crying baby in with a frightened look on her face. Daisy gestured to Abigail to follow her and approached the woman.
“My son,” cried the woman, her long curls of red hair matted around her face. “He wouldn’t stop crying, and now his ear is bleeding.”
“Bring him over here,” instructed Daisy, walking over to a vacant bed. “When did he start crying?”
The mother sighed. “It was yesterday just before noon. So a bit more than a day. Can you help him?”
Daisy nodded. “We absolutely can. We’re going to start with standard healing and see if he responds.” She turned to Abigail. “Abigail, would you please?”
Abigail’s eyes grew wide. “A baby? I can’t–Daisy, I don’t know if I can–”
Daisy raised a hand to silence her. “Abigail, do what I told you. Think of the dark times, and think of your hope. Do the Chant. I know you know it.”
Abigail swallowed hard and closed her eyes. She raised her hand over the baby’s head and began the Chant. Daisy glanced back and forth between the baby, who sobbed and screamed, and Abigail, whose closed eyes began to leak tears steadily down her face as she chanted. When she finished, pink and white light swam from her hand into the baby’s head, and the baby slowly stopped crying. He even smiled and reached out to his mother, who scooped him up and cradled him.
“Hold on, please,” said Daisy. “We need to wipe his ear clean to see if he’s still bleeding, and we need to observe him for a little while to see if his pain returns.”
The mother bit her lip and returned him to the bed. Daisy took a cloth and cleaned his ear, then stood studying the child for a moment. She placed a hand lightly on the baby’s head. He giggled. Daisy turned to Abigail.
“Excellent work. We’ll keep observing him for a bit, but I think you’ve done beautifully. How did it feel?”
Abigail wiped the tears from her face and sniffled. “It felt different. Like I was actually talking to her.”
Daisy grinned. “That’s perfect. I’m very proud of you, Abigail. If you can do that reliably, we may have a place for you here at the clinic.”
Abigail flinched. “You mean–?”
Daisy nodded. “I mean if we are able to expand, we’ll need more healers.”
Abigail smiled delightedly. “I’ll keep practicing.”
Daisy turned to the child’s mother. “I think since he isn’t bleeding anymore, and he seems happy, you are fine to hold him. Babies are hard cases–they can’t tell us what hurts. So I do want more time to observe him. But if you need to be elsewhere, you can take him. If he starts crying or bleeding again, come right back, though. And if it’s nighttime and the clinic is closed, yell up at the window on the second floor for us. I don’t mind losing some sleep if it means keeping your boy out of pain.”
The mother smiled in amazement at Abigail. “I can’t believe–you saved my baby.”
Abigail’s eyes widened. “I . . .”
Daisy smiled and gently squeezed Abigail’s hand. “You saved her baby.”
Abigail’s mouth hung open. After a moment, she blinked repeatedly. “I’m just glad I could help.”
The mother smiled again. “I do have to go, but I’ll be sure to come back if anything happens. I’m afraid I can’t pay, but–”
Daisy shook her head. “The sign is real. It’s a free clinic. You owe us nothing.”
The mother sighed. “I can’t thank you enough.”
Daisy smiled. “No need. We’re just happy your son is feeling better. Take care, and don’t be afraid to come back.”
The mother smiled gratefully and began to leave the clinic.
“Wait–ma’am, what’s your son’s name?” called Daisy.
The woman turned and smiled. “This is Samuel. And I’m Frieda.”
“You and Samuel take care,” said Daisy.
Frieda carried Samuel out the door and into the city. Abigail turned to Daisy. “Why’d you ask his name?”
Daisy chuckled. “I thought it would be good if you knew the name of the first child you saved.”
Abigail’s eyes watered. “Samuel.”
Daisy smiled. “That’s right. Now why don’t you go take a break? Maybe say a prayer in the shrine, and come back when you’re ready to get back to work.”
Abigail smiled. “Okay. Thank you, Daisy. I really did a good job?”
Daisy nodded. “You did a great job.”
Abigail grinned from ear to ear and hurried out the door toward the shrine. As she left, a newtkin man in courier’s garb passed her on his way into the shop. “Daisy?” he called.
Daisy walked over to him. “That’s me.”
“Letter from Gritt,” said the newtkin, handing her a sealed envelope.
“Oh, another letter from Larkin!” exclaimed Daisy.
The newtkin smiled and grabbed another letter from his pack. “And I have another one all the way from Afira.”
Daisy raised an eyebrow. “Really? You’re sure it’s for me? I haven’t been to Afira in five years.”
The courier shrugged. “Well, it’s definitely for you. You’re Daisy, Capital City, operator of the Bloom Clinic, and I think that’s you, right?”
Daisy chuckled, her brow furrowed. “Okay. Well, thanks.” She handed him a few caps, and he left in a hurry to deliver his next assignment.
Candace came to stand next to Daisy. “Another letter from Larkin?” she asked.
Daisy nodded. “I recognize her handwriting. I’ll bet she won reelection as mayor of New Groff.”
Candace chuckled. “You know, the fact that she got all the hornkin to settle in Groff and refound it was not all that surprising to me. The fact she was almost unanimously voted mayor was a little more surprising. How does a hornkin her age get people to restart their whole city with her leading it?”
Daisy smiled. “Yeah, but I learned that there’s very little that goes on around her that isn’t surprising.”
“Fair enough,” said Candace. “What’s the other one?”
“I dunno,” replied Daisy. “I don’t recognize the writing. Very formal.” She shrugged. “Guess there’s only one way to find out.” She carefully tore the envelope open and scanned the carefully-formed lettering, her eyes opening wider with each line. She finished reading the letter and laughed in disbelief. “Candace, you’re not gonna believe this. Do you, uh, wanna take a trip to Afira?”
Candace chuckled. “Why would we go to Afira? Aren’t we super busy with the clinic?”
Daisy nodded. “I mean, that’s true. But I think Abigail is ready to stand in for me for at least a little while, and we could hire a person or two to fill in for what she can’t do while we’re gone.”
Candace raised an eyebrow. “You still haven’t said why we’d go there. I’m not sure I really have any desire to go back to Lo’Torrin yet again.”
Daisy nodded. “Not the elven part. My friend Kast from when I was there founded a new city just off the old Ronan’el part of the continent. He’s invited me to come to a festival in my honor. Our honor, I mean–me and my friends. I feel like it would be rude not to attend.”
Candace shook her head, laughing. “A festival in your honor, huh? Maybe I ought to go and find out exactly what you got up to there. Something tells me you haven’t bragged as much as you should have.”
Daisy smiled. “So you will? You’ll take a little vacation with me and meet my friends and see what we worked for?”
Candace grinned. “Let’s not call it a vacation. We never got a honeymoon, so this trip can be a late one.”
“Really?” asked Daisy. “You’ll really go back to Afira with me?”
Candace nodded. “I’ll go. When do we leave?”
Daisy ran some calculations in her head. “I think we could arrange for our absence for a couple weeks within three, maybe four days. Then we head to the coast, get out to Lo’Torrin, travel north, and Kast’s letter says there will be a boat waiting for us in Stronghold. We should be able to make the boat in time for the festival.”
Candace smiled. “Let’s do it. A honeymoon abroad. But we have to bring the cats.”
“Ooh, Rose will get to see a whole ‘nother continent,” said Daisy. “She’s just like me–a world traveler.”
“Except she hasn’t been running from the law when she travels,” replied Candace playfully. She stuck out her tongue.
“Oh hush,” said Daisy. “I’m a hero on Afira. They love me there.”
Candace chuckled. “You do realize you’re a hero here too, right?”
Daisy slowly smiled as she realized Candace was right. “Well, run out of three cities and a hero in two ain’t bad.”
—
“Larkin!” cried Daisy, running to hug the hornkin.
“Daisy!” Larkin hugged the slightkin tightly. “C’mon, Sash and Steel-Eyes are already on the boat!”
Larkin led Daisy and Candace, who held Rose, Clover, and Posie squirming in her arms, up the gangway onto a fine sailing vessel. It had been a long journey. The wagon to the Myriad’s western coast had been a relaxing affair, and the ship to Lo’Torrin had been full of excitement. Candace had made fun of how often Daisy was recognized on the ship and hailed as a hero by natives of Afira, but that was only magnified once they landed in Lo’Torrin. All through the city, people called out to Daisy and praised her for the new era of peace on the continent. The wagon into what had once been Ronan’el territory had been another peaceful leg of the journey, and upon arriving in Stronghold, the Ronan’el who remained were even more thrilled to meet Daisy. Candace kept count of how many Ronan’el children they had met named for Daisy and teased Daisy harder with each one. Those few Ronan’el still in Stronghold boarded the ship with Daisy and Candace, and it was the most crowded ship Daisy had ever been on.
“We’re right over here,” said Larkin. She cut through the crowded boat’s chambers and to a table where her old friends sat.
“Daisy,” said Sash. “It’s been a while.”
“Hello,” grunted Steel-Eyes.
“Guys!” cried Daisy. “So good to see you again. This is my wife, Candace, and our cats.”
“You got married,” said Sash. “Congratulations. How long ago?”
“Our four year anniversary was almost a month ago,” replied Candace.
“Candace is great,” said Larkin. “She helped my mom get better.”
“So what’s everybody been up to?” asked Daisy. “I’ve heard rumors and rumblings, but I’d love the full story.”
Sash smiled. “After the war ended, I got back to Lo’Torrin and gathered up a big group of people to restore the archipelago. Steel-Eyes helped so much, and everybody really contributed. It’s livelier than ever now–you wouldn’t believe how vibrant the plants are, and the waters are so pure and clean. And we built a school for new protectors. A lot of elves have signed up, and we have the biggest class yet in the program right now. We teach them magic and religion and conservation practices. I think that river country will be more beautiful than ever very soon.”
“That’s great!” said Daisy. “How’s working with Arokosiel?”
Sash shrugged, but they were smiling still. “Lo’Torrin’s a sanctuary city of sorts now. The slums are much better now–they’re not even really slums at all. People who aren’t elves can succeed and find comfort. There’s even a Ronan’el neighborhood now.”
“A Ronan’el neighborhood?” asked Larkin. “Really?”
Sash nodded proudly. “Most all of the Ronan’el are either on this boat or already on the new continent, but a small group wanted to stay in a more diverse place, and that’s Lo’Torrin.”
“But how are you?” asked Daisy. “I mean, it sounds like you’ve been hugely successful, but how do you feel these days?”
Sash smiled again. “I feel good. The protectors are free from corruption. Lo’Torrin is a proud and prosperous place. People try to follow the example I’ve set. They say that kindness and intention matters, which is new. And I just live a quiet, humble life. It’s very rewarding.”
“That’s awesome!” chirped Larkin. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Sounds good,” said Steel-Eyes.
“What about you, Steel-Eyes?” asked Daisy. “What have you been up to?”
Steel-Eyes grunted. “Steel-Eyes helped Sash. Newtkin came from Sparkfell, asked Steel-Eyes to go to university. Steel-Eyes went to Sparkfell in Eunax. Researched in many fields. Engineering, physics, magical implementation. Created devices with newtkin. Many people’s lives made better by work.”
“That’s great, Steel-Eyes!” said Daisy. “It sounds like you really found your place and a way to help people.”
Steel-Eyes smiled faintly. “Made friends with newtkin. Very strong bond. Newtkin understand Steel-Eyes. Newtkin share Steel-Eyes’s passion for technology. Many people want to be Steel-Eyes’s friend. Have many friends.”
“Really?” asked Larkin, echoing Daisy’s thoughts. “I’m so glad!”
Steel-Eyes nodded. “Many good friends.”
Daisy smiled. “I couldn’t be happier to hear it. Hey, you ever build that blueprint that Norasynia gave you?”
Steel-Eyes grinned. “Steel-Eyes built it. Even make a few improvements on design. Now Sparkfell has portal system. As good as Lo’Thalas portal system. Steel-Eyes and Jarn send letters, talk about planar travel. Jarn is Steel-Eyes’s friend too.”
“Oh wow,” said Daisy. “I hadn’t thought about Jarn in a while. How is he?”
Steel-Eyes grunted. “Jarn helps his kind. Jarn says many of his people in slavery, but he led rebellion and saved them. He is hero among his people.”
“Good for him!” cried Larkin.
“How’ve you been, Larkin?” asked Sash. “You said Candace helped your mom. Is she better now?”
Larkin grinned. “My mom is great now! Daisy and Candace and me helped her, and it took a looooong time, but we did it, and then my mom and me went to Groff and got all the hornkin together and we were gonna start a new city, but instead we decided to teach the people in Groff about our agriculture and our special seeds that grow way up high and all of our special techniques, and they were like, ‘wow no way this is awesome’ and also the city was so run down, so we rebuilt it and stayed and made it New Groff.”
“Excellent,” said Sash. “Can’t say I’m surprised you did something good for the hornkin.”
Daisy smiled. “She’s leaving something out.”
Larkin raised an eyebrow. “I am?”
Daisy laughed. “Who are you in New Groff?”
Larkin smiled. “Oh yeah, I’m the mayor, and they keep reelecting me, but I have this plan to make a council so it’s not just me making decisions and people can kinda rule themselves and stuff, and then I wanna become a priestess like Daisy, but of Sariel so I can use the power to protect people.”
“And your mother’s better?” asked Sash.
“Yeah!” cried Larkin. “She lives in New Groff with me, and she says she’s proud of me like every day, and she says that every day is a little bit better in our hearts after all we went through in my dad’s cult.”
“I’m proud of you too, Larkin,” said Daisy.
“I am too,” added Candace.
“What about you two?” asked Sash. “How’s married life?”
Daisy grinned. “I’m gonna embarrass her, so don’t be alarmed if she blushes or sticks her tongue out at me.”
“Like this?” asked Candace, sticking her tongue out.
“Just like that,” said Daisy. “Anyway, we were together when we lived in Strey, and we had a really unfortunate parting, but all these years later, she was Larkin’s mom’s nurse, and as soon as we saw each other, we just came back together. I proposed, like, the night we met again, and we helped care for Larkin’s mom, and once she was better, we got married. And honestly, every day with Candace has been an absolute dream. I’m happier than I’ve ever been.”
“Ugh,” moaned Candace in mock disgust. “So sappy.”
“Shut up,” said Daisy. “You know it’s true.”
Sash laughed lightly. “So what have you been up to? It’s been years–what’s new?”
Daisy smiled. “We opened a free clinic in Capital City. We care for the sick and injured. Candace is the most incredible nurse, and she makes fantastic salves and tonics, and she cares for people while they recover and helps me when I heal people.”
Candace grinned. “She’s not telling you she’s basically the most sought-after healer in the city. And Capital City has the Rectifiers, some of the most powerful healers in the world. Our clinic gets people who could afford their care, but they choose us instead. And Daisy also runs a shrine of Idunna and has students, one of whom is running the clinic while we’re here. She’s a hero there.”
“She’s a hero here too,” said Larkin.
“We’re all heroes here,” corrected Daisy.
“There’s little Ronan’el kids named Daisy,” said Candace, laughing.
“I’ve met a few,” said Sash. “Lots of Kasts, and some Larkins, and some Steel-Eyeses, and even some Sashes. I can’t believe Ronan’el named their kids after an elf.”
Candace narrowed her eyes and leaned into the table. “So, it’s all true, then? You’re heroes here?”
Larkin chuckled. “Yeah, I mean, it was the right thing to do, and everybody was really happy about it.”
Candace turned to Daisy. “Do they know . . . ?”
Daisy laughed. “I pulled a job in front of them once. I’ve not been shamed so hard since I lived with my mom. They know. And they helped me get on the right track.”
Sash smiled. “Yeah, before she was Daisy, she had some missteps. But she turned it around.”
Candace chuckled. “I ask because when I knew her before, she was quite the con. Finding out she was an honest-to-gods healer was, well, a shock. Like night and day.”
“We saw it too,” said Larkin. “But look at her now!”
Candace grinned. “My perfect little good-hearted wife.”
“Heroes!” boomed a hearty voice. A massive green Ronan’el lumbered up to the table.
“Bruzohr!” cried Larkin.
“It’s good to see you all again,” thundered Bruzohr. He looked almost younger than he did before, the weight of the war off his shoulders. “Can you believe it? Off to a new land to start over.”
“I think we’ve all started over,” said Daisy.
Bruzohr smiled. “I suppose we have. Who’s this?”
Daisy grinned. “This is my wife, Candace.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” said Candace. “I’d shake your hand, but I have an armful of cats here.”
Bruzohr chuckled. “Welcome, Candace. Any friend of Daisy’s is a friend of mine.”
“How’ve you been?” asked Daisy.
Bruzohr shook his head and sighed. “It’s been a lot. Since you left, we’ve tried to persevere. Without the war on, things have been easier. But leaving our homeland behind–” Bruzohr wiped a tear from his eye. “It’s hard to say goodbye. Our people have always been here. But Kastark says what lies ahead will be better than what we’ve known. I’m glad you all will be here to mark the beginning of it. We wouldn’t have this fresh start without you.”
“Thank you for trusting us,” said Daisy. “You didn’t have to let us try to get the treaty signed. It was an act of faith I’ll always be grateful for.”
Bruzohr smiled. “Don’t thank me. The Ronan’el thank you. Without the legendary Steel-Eyes, Larkin, Daisy, Sash, and Kastark, we would be gone.”
“To the future,” said Larkin.
“To the future,” repeated the others.
“We’re about to set sail,” said Bruzohr. “Enjoy the voyage.”
“We will,” said Daisy. “You too. This is an important moment for everyone on this boat and beyond.”
Bruzohr smiled. “I’ll be on the deck above. I need to be with my people. I hope to see you before we arrive.”
“See you soon,” said Larkin.
Bruzohr nodded and left the table.
“Bruzohr?” asked Candace. “Like, the main leader of the Ronan’el Bruzohr?”
“That’s him,” said Sash. “We worked with him a lot during the mission.”
Candace laughed. “Of course. I feel like I have more surprises in store when we get where we’re going.”
Daisy chuckled and stuck her tongue out at Candace. “To be fair, so do we.”
The ship rocked as it left the dock and set out on the waves across the bay. Many of the Ronan’el on board crowded the main deck to get a view of the voyage, but the group remained at the table belowdecks and talked. They discussed the details of their new lives, the ways their hopes and plans had been realized or forced to change, the things they now remembered with fondness about their time together. They were so focused on their reunion that the landing on the new island home of the Ronan’el crept up on them, and they realized with a start that they’d spent the whole day chatting away. They rose from the table and made their way back up, unsure of what awaited, but hoping for the best.
—
Beyond the dock lay the burgeoning city. Everything was brand new, every building and feature of the place constructed in the last few years and only lightly used as the place was slowly populated.
“My friends!” called a voice.
Daisy turned. It was Kast, wearing formal robes and smiling as broadly as she had never seen him do before.
“Kast!” cried Larkin. She and Daisy rushed in and wrapped Kast in a hug. He laughed and hugged them back.
“Larkin,” he said. “Daisy. It’s good to see you too.” He looked up. “Sash, Steel-Eyes. Who’s your friend with the cats?”
Daisy stepped back from the hug, grinning. “That’s my wife, Candace.”
Kast smiled. “Congratulations. And nice to meet you, Candace.”
Candace nodded. “So you’re the Kast from the stories? Or are you some other Ronan’el leader they served?”
Kast chuckled. “Both. I helped with the treaty mission, and then I came to found this place.”
Candace laughed. “Of course. It seems like no one we meet here wasn’t touched by what you did.”
Kast nodded. “What we did was important in ways we’re still realizing. I did it because I was born to do it. Your wife and the others did it by choice. As far as I’m concerned, that makes them the real heroes.”
“We couldn’t have done it without you, Kast,” said Daisy.
Kast smiled. “Let me show you the city. Welcome to Gharol.”
“What does Gharol mean?” asked Larkin.
“Safe,” said Kast. “It’s finally a safe place for us. Come.” He led them from the dock into the city.
Ronan’el of every color walked the streets together, a dizzying rainbow of people discovering their new home or still learning to call it home. A large sign at the dock identified the city as Gharol in simple, blocky letters, and banners of vibrant turquoise, deep ochre, glowing purple, and buzzing green stretched as far as they could see. The banners had depictions of the group, and all read “Festival of Ronan’ahk,” which a puzzled Candace pointed to.
“What does that mean?” she whispered to Daisy.
“Kin of the Ronan’el,” explained Daisy. “It’s a title they gave us after the war.”
Candace rolled her eyes, and they continued into the heart of the city. They passed dazzling buildings of fine construction–Kast pointed out libraries, an aquarium, a visitor’s center, a grand university. He showed them homes, temples, and fledgling businesses of all sorts. At every site, he found a new way to thank them. They reached the city’s center, where a large statue marked the heart of the island. It depicted the group in black marble, Larkin with her bow, Steel-Eyes with Guy and Bird, Sash holding their trident, Kast with a solemn look, and Daisy with her hands raised in prayer.
“Is there a city in Afira that doesn’t have a statue of you?” asked Candace.
Daisy stuck her tongue out at her. “You have to admit, the likeness is better here than in Lo’Torrin.”
A blue Ronan’el with touches of purple on her face approached the group and stood near Kast. Her belly was large and swollen with child. Kast smiled when he saw her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
“I’d like you to meet my mate. This is Grat.”
Grat? His only friend as a kid? thought Daisy.
Grat smiled and waved. “It’s nice to meet you all. I’ve heard so many good things.”
Daisy smiled. “It’s nice to meet you too. We’ve heard good things about you too.” She turned to Kast. “I’m so happy for you.”
Kast smiled. “Thank you. She’s due soon. We think ours may be the first child born in Gharol after its official founding.”
“Awwwww!” Larkin laughed happily. “Congratulations.”
“Yes,” said Sash. “It’s lovely to see you doing well.”
Kast nodded. “The years since the war ended have been much better. Finding a purpose after my purpose was served has been . . . gratifying.”
“Grat-ifying,” said Daisy, a wide grin on her face.
Grat chuckled, Kast smiled, and Candace groaned.
“There’s a feast in your honor,” explained Kast. “You have seats at a special table with me and the other clan leaders. I’m sure we can find some food for your cats.”
“Thank you,” said Candace. “They will love you forever if you have fish for them.”
Kast led them away from the statue and towards the festival. They saw games, food vendors, celebrating Ronan’el, and tables lined with a feast. He took them to a long table and helped them to their seats. Moments later, the rest of the tribunal joined them.
“It’s good you all could make it,” said Shez. “It wouldn’t be the same without you.”
“It wouldn’t be happening without you,” added Rhuk.
“We hope the festival suits you,” said Bruzohr. “And the statue.”
“It’s perfectly lovely,” replied Daisy. “All of it.”
“Steel-Eyes is honored,” said the dwarf.
“Thank you for having us,” added Sash.
Abzal lowered his eyes. “I’m sorry I was suspicious of you. You proved me wrong, and I am glad of it.”
“I am sorry too,” said Urdukk. “We once could not trust outsiders. I’m glad that has changed.”
“All forgiven,” replied Larkin.
“It’s understandable,” added Daisy. “We showed up in . . . less than favorable circumstances. You were pretty trusting given the situation.”
“I think we can agree that then was much less favorable than now,” said Bruzohr. “But this is a time for now. We have a new home, a new future, and friends all around. To the Ronan’ahk!” He raised a glass.
“To the Ronan’ahk!” cheered the others of the tribunal, raising their own glasses.
Daisy and the others raised their glasses, smiling.
“To the Ronan’ahk!” shouted the mass of Ronan’el nearby, lifting fists above their heads, their voices booming as one. Daisy flinched at the thunderous cry, and Candace laughed at her reaction, the cats swarming a plate of fish beneath the table.
“Let us eat,” said Kast, holding Grat’s hand. “And let us be grateful for what we have, and why we have it.”
Everyone dug into the feast. There were foods Daisy had never seen in all her travels, and drinks she had never tasted before, and in the blur of the feast, she began to feel a newness in her heart that was disorienting but enjoyable. Frequently, she looked over at Candace, who seemed always to be rolling her eyes as Ronan’el approached and thanked Daisy for her work or chuckling softly as someone toasted to Daisy and the others or shaking her head as one of the tribunal shared a story of the adventurers' mission. When they had first completed the treaty, the rawness of the wound opened by the war had made the gratitude of the Ronan’el solemn and quiet, but this feast was quite the opposite–Daisy saw the Ronan’el as she had never seen them–exuberant, joyful, celebratory. The seriousness with which she went about her work at the clinic seemed distant for a time, and in its place she felt pure, exhilarating bliss.
It was almost surreal. She had been a desperate person for so much of her life, and to have constant, overwhelming validation that she had done something good and lasting and meaningful was strange. At the clinic, there was always another sick person to heal, always another bone to mend, always one more challenge to resolve before she could rest for the next. But now, the flood was of celebration and recognition and grace. She found herself crying happily often. Once they had eaten, Rose and Clover and Posie fought over positions in her lap, and Candace held firmly onto her hand, and her friends smiled and laughed around her, and an entire people tried to show her their thanks. She closed her eyes and prayed: Idunna, please let me never forget this. Please help me hold on to this feeling. Please allow me to remember what it is to be alive like this. I love you.
The feast eventually wound down, and Kast smiled at his friends. “The festival is only beginning. We hope you can stay with us until it is over.”
“How long is the festival?” asked Larkin.
“One week,” replied Kast.
Daisy turned to Candace. “We allowed for a week. If you can handle this for a whole week, that is.”
Candace laughed. “I think we can make that work.”
“Then please enjoy the celebration,” said Kast. “It is for you, after all.”
The feast came to a close, and the festival began a new life. Ronan’el drank and played games and performed music and told stories. The moon rose full over the island, and Daisy and Candace made their way to the water’s edge. They sat on the beach with their cats and watched the waves spilling in.
“This doesn’t feel real,” said Candace.
“What do you mean?” asked Daisy.
Candace laughed. “I have this memory of you. You’d been working the museum in Strey for a while, and you came home to the estate, and you said you’d been named the curator.”
“Interim curator,” corrected Daisy.
“Shut up,” said Candace, grinning from ear to ear. “You were the curator. And you told me, and I thought, ‘who is this woman?’ How did she talk her way into that? How could she just spin some words and end up running the place? And I thought about it a while. I’ll admit, I considered the possibility it was a lie. Just something to throw the gang off, cover for something, maybe impress us. But then I decided you were telling the truth. And I thought, ‘damn, she can do anything.’ I remember it distinctly. I was sitting in the living room next to you on the couch, and I looked over at you, and I really did think, ‘she could do anything in the world if she wanted to.’”
Daisy smiled. “Thanks, Candy.”
Candace shook her head. “I had no fucking idea. I couldn’t have imagined any of this. You’re–you’re a legend here. I mean, like, back in Capital City, you’re a hero. You’ve saved more lives than I can count.”
“We saved them together,” corrected Daisy.
“Shut up,” laughed Candace. “You have saved so many people from sickness and injury and who knows what else, and they don’t even know.”
“Don’t even know what?” asked Daisy.
Candace raised her eyebrows. “You’re so much more. I mean, the stories you told, the stories Larkin told–I thought there must be some exaggeration going on. Little embellishments, fun details to spruce up your time here. But then we get here, and there’s fucking kids named after you. Every Ronan’el here knows you. You didn’t exaggerate shit. You downplayed it.”
Daisy smiled. “I’m not who I was. I don’t like to brag anymore.”
Candace laughed. “Honey, the fact that you don’t live here is fucking testament to that. You could live in luxury, adoring fans all around you, you could snap your fingers and have anything. And you don’t. If I didn’t know you, I mean really know you, and know you’re the same stubborn girl I fell in love with in Strey, I’d think you were a completely different person. I wouldn’t recognize you.”
Daisy looked up at the moon. “But I am me. I just changed. And I hope that’s okay.”
Candace grinned. “Changing is a good thing sometimes. I know you probably couldn’t be with me if I hadn’t changed too. It’s–it’s more than okay. You’re just–gods, Daisy, you are too fucking good for me.”
Daisy turned to Candace. “Now you need to shut up. You’ve saved hundreds of people. You kept Daneel alive for years even though we never really figured out what was wrong with her. You changed too, and only for the better. Can I tell you something like you told me?”
Candace smiled. “Sure. Hit me.”
Daisy stared into Candace’s eyes and began to spin her wedding ring around her finger. “When I saw you for the first time in the palace, I remember thinking, ‘what in the fuck is she doing here?’ I thought you might have been working Maela. And every day, I learned more and more that you had become this perfect nurse, that you’d really earned your way into Maela’s good graces, and I thought the same thing you just said about me. I thought you were too good for me.”
Candace stuck her tongue out. “Oh, come on.”
Daisy laughed. “No, really. I had only been a servant of Idunna for a few weeks when I got to Capital City. You’d been helping people for years. I had fallen ass-first into that treaty mission. It was an accident. Suggesting the treaty was a con to get out of a prison in a military camp. I have not been this person you think is ‘too good for you’ for half the time you’ve been doing it. Every day, I feel like I have to prove to myself I’ve changed. But I see you. I see you doing it naturally, just out of instinct. And every so often, I still think you are too good for me.”
Candace grinned. “Huh.”
“Huh what?” asked Daisy.
“I guess we’ll just have to compromise. You’re too good for me, and I’m too good for you at the same time. That way, we’re both lucky.”
Daisy shook her head. “No. We can both be lucky without feeling that way. How about this: we both changed in the right way at the right time to be perfect for each other when we met again.”
Candace laughed. “That’s kinda corny.”
“And it’s also true,” said Daisy. “Tell me it’s not.”
Candace smiled. “Okay, it’s true.”
“Good. And don’t forget it.”
Candace grinned mischievously. “Maybe I’ll build a statue about it. Then I’ll never forget. Or are there already too many statues of you at this point?”
They laughed together and stared up at the moon, the cats exploring the beach around them, and let the night wrap its arms around them. And as they sat there, the buzz of the festival in the distance behind them, Daisy smelled cherry blossoms mingled with the sea air.
You can read the book this is a sequel to, Nobody Knows Me, here!
You can read the prequel to Nobody Knows Me, Two Different Things Can Just Be Different, here!
You can read about Daisy here!
You can read short stories set in the time jumps of this novel here!
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