Book 8: Chapter 3

Book 8: Chapter 3

Humans.

Why Humans? That was what they had said, at first. The group that knew the truth of worlds, or at least, part of it.

The Gnolls of Liscor, that was. Because they had known for a while. Not all of them, but the older ones. The ones who didnt talk about the vast secret. At first it had not been so vast since it was one person. Now? It was growing.

But at firstthey had said this. Why Humans? Why couldnt there be a race of Gnolls whod managed to create an advanced civilization in another world? Of course, Gnolls would do it differently. Probablytheyd invent better shampoos that didnt smell so strongly.

Or something.

This was what Krshia wrote. In code.

Send one of the Humans. We have met another.

Another one. So, Elirr gathered some of the senior Gnolls remaining in the city. Grey-furred City Gnolls, not a tribe per se, but a community.

This is getting too big, Elirr.

A Gnoll petting a cat peered at him. [Senior Scribe] Hemera. Another Gnoll sleepily blinked.

We have to do something. The Meeting of Tribes will produce a large result. Plains Gnolls, thoughunpredictable. Ive never been to the tribes, but theyre temperamental, arent they?

That came from a City Gnoll for life, Permel. Also oldpushing seventy. Many of the most distinguished Gnolls had gone, but stilla [Master Potter] was something to admire. He made wonderful porcelain and had banned Elirrs animals from his shop forever.

The tribes are fickle. But it is Krshia who asks, not them. I trust her.

Ambitious, though. Young Gnollsyes, shes still young enough to be ambitious! Of course, we help, but Id rather roll around in ink than put little Mrsha in danger. Doombringer. We called her that and were city-born. Imagine what theyll do?

Hemera put in. The others nodded.

If only we could send a Gold-rank team. The Halfseekers?

Perhaps. They would not be cheap. But they love her too. As for a Humanwell, they are older. Krshia is right in that one should go, especially if they have found another. Perhaps bring them back here?

More nods as a cat teased the shy Wyvern, Jekle, whod finally been left to wander the shop. The other two Gnolls eyed it, but Elirr could sense the young Wyverns emotions and the most the youngling felt was fear towards the evil cats.

Elirr pointed at the offending cat.

Berry. Enough. Leave him alone. Scat.

The cat gave Elirr a look. He turned and proceeded to try toElirr threw a crumpet at the animal and the cat grabbed it and fled.

Youve created monsters.

Permel shook his head. The other Gnolls chuckled, and presently, the group of six nodded.

A Human it is. One should go.

But which one?

Ah, now. That was the question. The others looked at Elirr and his ears and tail drooped. He would have to visit. For a strange inversion had taken place.

Where once the inn had been the center of change, now the world was passing it by. And it sat instasis.

Waiting for the [Innkeeper] to wake up.

-

The Wandering Inn held so few these days. And even if they slept there, many left as soon as theyd eaten, before theyd eaten. It was like an abandonedinn

Before a young woman had found it. A perfect circlealthough this inn was not completely deserted. But even the Humans had drifted away.

Case in point. Kevin Hall woke up from the room in which hed been sleeping at the urgent pounding on his door. He fell out of his chair, hit the ground, and heard the urgent voice.

Mister Kevin? Mister Kevinits a client!

Im just Kevin! Who

But Kevin already knew. The young man picked himself up; his chair was on the floor, and he rubbed at a bruise as he scrambled to his feet.

He had been sleeping in, well, the office. The small room, the building rented for the new job he was working at.

In Esthelm. Selys had pushed for Liscor. Hedault wanted Invrisil.

Invrisil was expensive. Liscor hadhad been The Wandering Inn and besides, the new quarter was unfinished and neither artisan worked there, only the money, Selys. So Kevin had chosen Esthelm. It was cheap and Hedault responded to [Messages].

Master Pelt did not. And yes, Kevin would have benefitted from the sleep Skills in The Wandering Inn. He had his own roombut hed fallen asleep balanced on the chair in his office, half-leaned back.

It was an art form and Kevin must have managed at least a good six hours in that position before the knocking had awoken him. Also point in fact?

Its three AM. Or thereabouts.

Kevin stumbled towards the door. And yetsomeone had woken him. He recognized the worried Drake [Scribe] hed hired as a general assistant to write down orders and so on.

Its just Kevin. Speaking stone?

Its Client F.

The Drake was very nervous. He handed Kevin the stone and the young man groggily raised it.

This is Kevin of Solar Cycles, how can I help you today?

He recognized the echoing voice and tone immediately.

I am Fetohep of Khelt.

Of course he was. Kevins skin chilled. He waved the Drake off; the Drake sleepily went back to taking [Messages] or waiting for calls from the people who insisted on it. They had to actually have a speaking lodestone enchanted and then send one to the shop. But some did.

And only one person would call at night. A universal night! Kevin felt he should really look into that at some point. He checked the crude clock he had set up by his desk.

And recalled that sundials really needed daylight to work. And he wasnt at the level where a mechanical clock was feasible.

More clear audio than a phone callsundials. That was technology here for you. Kevin slowly relaxed into his chair.

How can I help you today, your Majesty?

Fetoheps voice was calm. Precisecommanding.

I have a copy of your latest catalogue, Kevin of Liscor.

Kevin bit his tongue. Fetohep always said that after the first conversation, but the way he said it made them both know what he really meant.

Eryes, your Majesty?

Theyd put that out right before Kevin went to sleep! The Mages Guild got a copy, which they could print on demand for whomever wanted it. And the Runners Guild had been upset because they wanted to sell copies

Fetohep had a lot of time on his hands. He kept doing this, sometimes at midnight, or other times of the day. He seemed sort of bored. Kevin fiddled with a gear lying on his desk as he listened. Pelt had been trying different teeth

I notice your latest catalogue lists a four-wheeled carriage option to be assembled and tethered to a bicycle.

Oh, the pull-along rickshaw Kevin had thought up. It was a simple idea. If Hedault could enchant a bicycle to be practically weightless, why not add pedal power to create an alternative to a horse-drawn carriage? Was it better? No. But it was fun, and both the [Enchanter] and the [Smith] had okayed a trial version. So had Selys; shed green lighted it a minute into Kevins pitch.

After all, novelty sold. And while Solar Cycles had yet to make many actual salesthey were rolling in orders.

Fetohep of Khelt was not pleased, though. And it took Kevin a hot, sweating minute to understand why. Their firstmost important (according to him), and undead clients tone was irate as he spoke with icy reserve.

This Cycle Rickshaw option is clearly derivative as only the wheels and connective material will be provided. However, it is a new option produced by your store.

Yes, your Majesty. Only the parts to ah, modify any standing wagon or carriage will be sent. But it is a new concept! A do-it-yourself assembly; much faster to produce than the entire vehicle.

And you did not think to immediately inform me of this new addition to your lineup?

Ah. Kevin exhaled, keeping his head pointed away from the speaking stone. He spoke quickly, sitting forwards urgently at his desk.

I ah, did think you would be interested, Your Perpetual Majesty. Which is why we already added the item to your order, gratis. Free of charge, that is! Thats uh, standard policy for Khelt alone. Any new item we deem worthy of import is automatically added to your list of purchases. We will, of course, bill you for more costly additions, but your patronage more than pays for this small addition.

Kevin waited for a response. He slowly, and covertly, wrote down a note on the wood itself with a quill and ink to do that. And waited on tenterhooks for the King of Khelts will.

It was like having a multi-milliona billionaire walk into your bicycle shop and demand quality service. Onlymost billionaires even from Earth didnt employ an army and have the resources to hire [Assassins] if offended.

Or did they? Kevin was sweating as the silence lingered on the other end. He heard no breathing, no sounds of life. Which, of course, made the wait only more dreadful.

Very wise of you, Kevin of Liscor. It seems I have underestimated the commonality of knowledge among some of this generation. Very well. And the arrival of my first object?

One week, your Majesty. Master Pelt has finished the newest bicycle to exacting performance as you know, and it is in the enchanting phase. I will add that the uh, gold plating did take time to work on, but it will be

Kevin consulted his notes and winced. A golden bicycle with superior enchanting and craftsmanship to even the one Ryoka had wrecked on her now-famous run.

one week until enchanting is finished, upon which time the Courier of your choosing shall escort it to Zeres.

I see. Very good. As to the nature of the request you made of me, Kevin of Liscor

The young man sat up. The voice continued as, suddenly, adrenaline ran through his veins.

I have considered your plea at length. My answer is unchanged from the moment I gave it. An object of such worth is more costly than a hundred such vehicles your company could produce, as you know. If Master Pelt and Master Hedaultand you were to swear yourselves to Khelts service, I would consider the issue further. As that is not likely, I will consider the matter closed.

II see, your Majesty.

Kevin hung his head. The voice was not unkind at the other end. But neither was it kind. It was, simply, impartial.

My offer to those still living extends, Kevin of Liscor. Remember that.

There was no click, but the subtle glow faded. Kevin sat there, exhaling.

It had never been likely. But he had hopedyet, no. No grand artifact from Khelt. As the ruler of the nation of Chandrar had pointed out when Kevin had begged for it, hoping against hope

What you ask for cannot be reproduced, and lingers only in the vaults of those who have saved it from times before I was born, Kevin of Earth. Should we relinquish such objects so lightly? Not even for my own people would I lightly open my vaults.

No Potion of Regeneration. No artifact of healing. Kevin knew it was fair. Fetohep, for all his horrible hours in calling, was polite and knew there were production delays. Kevin put his head down on the desk.

When he woke, he had ink on one cheek and a back-ache from sitting in the wrong spot. But he was back to work already. He wished for coffee and got tea. The DrakeMercklewas replaced by a Human [Assistant] and maybe even [Mechanic] in training. A local Esthelm young woman who was taking orders.

Pallass wants their cycle today, Mister Kevin.

They can wait. How many bicycles do we have?

Unenchanted or enchanted? Master Hedault

Works slow. I know. We should hire a cheaper, faster one.

He wont like that.

Which is why I get to talk to him. How many unenchanted, then?

Umumthree should be done.

Ill go see.

Kevin adjusted the clothing hed worn for uh, two days straight. He sniffed himself a second, but he didnt notice any odor. And where he was going, all you could smell was soot and metal.

Phew. He stinks. Humans never bathe.

Imagine being in the tribes. We dont bathe.

Do you just get used to the smell?

Wellwe get used to the smell of sewers.

Hrr. Fair point.

The small group of Gnolls watched as covertly as possible as Kevin left the headquarters of Solar Cycles. The small building was one of many in the rebuilding Esthelm. It hadnt achieved Liscors rapid pace of immigration, but people were coming for work.

Not least because this city now had a calling card. Humans were casually glancing at the three Gnolls peeking around the corner, but they probably assumed the Gnolls were here for the same reason people were deciding to settle here, and trade and business was flowing in.

Master Pelt of Esthelms forge was already clanging with soundbut the [Silence] spells meant that it wasnt that loud.

Until you passed the boundaries and heard the roar of the Dwarfs voice, louder even than the forges and hammering of metal.

You! Out of my forge! Out!

Kevin, Elirr, Permel, and Hemera all watched as a young man fled the furious Dwarf in the early hours of morning, face white, as Pelt hurled something down.

It looked likeKevin blinked. Dust?

It was a very fine, dark dust mixed with some red. And a few flecks ofwell, Pelt was already roaring the answer.

I told you to watch the metal like your life depended on it! Half a dozen flaws from the very steel wed make? Why dont you stab the [Warrior] who tries to use a blade made with steel this shoddy? Out! Out! You wont work in my forge again! Begone!

He hurled more insults as the apprentice [Smith] ran for his life. Kevin stared blearily. It was probably likesix AM.

Hi, Pelt. What did that poor guy do?

The Dwarf was red with fury. But he was animated. And Kevin saw no less than nine apprentice-smithssome actual [Smiths] whod come to apprentice themselves once morehuddling over their work. Not all were banging metal. The Dwarf pointed with a shaking finger.

Smelting steel. Thats all that fool had to do, but they cut corners. I told them to sieve the dust we use to smelt our crucibles. And look!

He gestured at the raw iron dust and ore. Kevin bent and inspected the pot.

Not all of its iron?

He saw tiny, tiny specks of what might have been other stone or just sand in the mix, although it was currently lying on the ground of Pelts forge. The Dwarf growled.

Contamination! I demand purity. Not as if we wouldnt fold the metal and work it out. But look at it! As if you could just trust the smelting process to burn it away! What kind of half-ratequarter-rate[Blacksmith] would work like that?

Possibly no other [Smith] in the world would be so demanding. The Humans, Drakes, even a Gnoll and pair of Dullahans, bent to their work, and those preparing the metal for smelting sweated harder.

It was not fun having Pelt as your teacher and master smith. He was not a nurturing presence and Kevin had seen dozensliterally dozensof prospective apprentices kicked out. Not always by Pelt himself. His top apprentice, Emessa, was almost as exacting as he.

Idiots who cant even follow basic orders dont deserve to be [Smiths]. What do you want? Im busy managing these fools as much as

Master! Your steels ready!

A panting voice. The Drake, Emessa, was waving at Pelt. The [Smith] turned.

Ah. Wait here.

He curtly told Kevin. The young man knew that even top-class [Merchants]Esthelms ruling bodyand anyone else would wait. Kevin was an actual exception. But even he waited as Pelt marched back to the anvil where the metal was hot and ready. The Dwarf picked up his hammer and tongs

And the anvil sang. Everyone stoppedat least, if they werent at work themselvesto watch and listen. The metal moved when Pelt struck it, shaping itself faster than all but the best machines from Kevins world could match.

And machines did one thing. Pelt was infinitely adjustable, doing whatever needed to be done in a blur. He was shaping another gear, hand-hammering in the perfect symmetry of each groove and tooth.

Not even Emessa could match that. AlthoughKevin saw replicas being made at other anvils.

Not half as good, for all the [Smiths] sweated on them forit must be a factor of thirty times as long as Pelt took, even counting Emessa prepping everything for him.

But that was how a master worked. It was as close to assembly-line as Kevin had seen, and the Dwarf had actually smiled when Kevin brought it up.

Pelt did not do much himself besides oversee. His apprentices forged iron, purified steel by folding it, cleaned, created usable billetsand only when the masterstroke was needed did Pelt step in.

Or when the material itself was magical. But that way, the [Smith] was only working when he was absolutely needed.

It was either efficientor lazyor both. Not everyone could handle it. Many people quit, but many stayed long enough to learn how the best [Smith] in the regionperhaps all of Izrildid it.

He was done and letting Emessa check the measurements, check the steel, and then finish it with quenching, filing, and so on after ten minutes. He strode back, briskly, barking orders, critiquing workbut alive with energy.

Master Pelt had returned in truth. So much so that the Dwarf in Pallass seemed like a cheap joke, a rip-off of the real thing. Pallass had had a master-class smith. But this was him working hard.

Bicycles. Thats why youre here.

He grunted at Kevin. The young man nodded. The Gnolls ears perked up. More were done already? The Dwarf spat. And the first bit of reserve entered his voice.

Theyre not the best

I know. But they are done?

Yes.

The Dwarf stretched out the word reluctantly. Kevin shrugged.

The customers know theyre not your work, Pelt. It even says so. They still run, dont they?

Passably. I tested them out; everything spins. And the steel is good. I wouldnt accept it for less, butwell, come and see.

Kevin did. The three Gnolls edged out. Elirr adjusted the hat he was wearing. It didnt really help since they were still Gnolls in a Human city, but Kevin hadnt noticed and neither had Pelt.

The bad bicycles were lined up. Three, made of iron, steel, or wood in parts. Pelt looked ashamed of them as the [Smiths] responsible for making them looked up.

Kevin thought they were fine. Not as light as a modern bicycle made of aluminumand Pelt could forge his bicycle parts out of Dwarfsteel or extremely thin steel for Hedault to enchant, but that was the point.

If he worked at it, Pelt could create a custom-built bike with gold plating that was a masterpiece. But it took him days upon days to do, and hed happily trash a piece he worked on for two days plus if it didnt fit his standards.

This? This was his apprentices work. Kevin had suggested it to reduce the huge bottleneck and Pelt had reluctantly agreed.

It spins. But notice that gear? We had to file down the teeth because it was wrong. And its not the best of fits along the metal to wood frame

Pelt was groaning and hemming and hawing, but Kevin thought it was just Pelts standards. He commented mildly.

The bike runs. Thats good enough. And its why were providing the option.

Cheap, unenchanted bicycles. Three, as ordered. Pelt grumbled into his beard.

I shouldnt let you take them, really. Theyre passable, but

But Ill say theyre not yours. See? We can even write, not a work of Master Pelt on it. And it takes the load off. In fact, other smiths are already trying to make bicycles.

Hah! Let them. Those damned gears really are a pain to make. If you have a mold you have a shot, but

Kevin smiled. That was his talent. People liked Kevin. And before you knew it, he was wheeling out the bicycles with an apprentice. Elirr and the other two Gnolls listened to everything, of course.

This one goes straight to Pallass. This one? Liscors Runners Guild. Ask for Hawk. He knows where to take it. The last one Ill take to Invrisil. Someones getting it. Umwhere are my orders? Oh, and I should get a receipt signed

Its good work. A bicycle, hm? I wonder how much the cheap ones cost?

More than we can afford. Yet. He could be good. But he is clearly needed here. That grumpy [Smith]few could work with him, yes? But he would be a good choice. I like Kevin.

He is likable.

Elirr agreed, watching the young man. But Kevin had established himself here. He had created a joban entire industry reallywhere none had existed. He would be a good choice for Krshia, though. Still

It was Pelt that Elirr glanced at. The Dwarf was working. He was angry, focused, and grudgingly approving at times. He had regained his spark. And one person was to thank for that. It all went back to the inn.

Alas.

-

The Wandering Inn was empty. No one came in.

Empty. No one came by, anymore. Who would come to drink and eat when Erin lay in the garden? People did come, but not to dine. Not for those fun gatherings.

The Players of Celum had left. The regulars didnt show their faces except to ask to go into the garden. A few people did come day by day, like clockwork.

Ishkr, who swept up, served drinks and food, Selys, to check on people. And the inn had guests. Hexel the [Architect], who breakfasted in Liscor and only came back to sleep. His apprenticesa few others.

But all that remained were ghosts. If you walked about the inn, you might find them. A Hobgoblin, sitting in the Garden, usually, sword on his knees. A Worker with a bow, who no longer sang.

Humans, talking quietly. A Centaur, a Minotaur and Human [Mage]. And among them all, one constant.

A little white Gnoll who sat in the middle of the vast common room, like a large stuffed animal. Or a puppet with its strings cut. She didnt move. Her fur was white, a rarity among Gnolls. Normally she was running about; in other times, better times, she would be playing amidst the chairs, sneaking food, or playing tag with her two friends.

Today, like yesterday and the day before, she sat, unmoving, except when her mother fed her or tried to get her to do anything. She sat there in the empty inn and knew it was all her fault.

For she was Mrsha.

And she was a Doombringer.

I am doom.

That was the one thing that she heard. It was her voice, in her head. Every moment. It was a certainty.

I am doom. Erin is dead, and I am doom. Mother left me. Two mothers, because I am doom.

This she knew was true. She had denied it. But the truth was clear. So the certainty repeated itself, again and again, second by second, minute by minute, hour by hour.

I am doom.I am doom.I am doom.I am doom.I am doom.I am doom.I am doom.I am doom. I am

Ulvama kicked Mrsha across the inn. The little Gnoll went flying and landed on a table. The Hobgoblin decided that was worth two points.

The art of kicking children was a surprisingly complex mechanism to anyone who was unskilled at it. Ulvama was an expert.

You didnt kick a Goblin child or Gnoll the same way you hit a soccer ball, for instance, although there were some parallels. As Joseph could have told you for the game of football, it wasnt kicking with the impact so much as pushing the ball, launching it with momentum. An impact-kick could break your toes!

The trick was to insert the tip of your foot underneath the childMrsha in this caseand loft her into the air. Thereby achieving maximum flight and distance with the least amount of damage to your foot and said child. Gnoll punting. It could be a sport.

Mrsha landed on the table and slid slightly, but didnt go off the edge. The [Shaman] rubbed her claws together. She waitedbut the Gnoll just looked at her and then lay on the top of the table.

Ulvama scowled. Well, this was depressing. She wasnt an expert on Gnoll children, having come from the Mountain City tribe, but shed expected this one to be at least a bit like little Goblins. But the Mrsha-Gnoll was practically unresponsive.

Mm.

The [Shaman] wandered off. Mrsha lay on the table. That hadnt actually hurt; it had just been surprising. She did not like the [Shaman]. But who cared?

For I am doom. This is what I deserve. Lyonette has left and that is good for she will die if she stays with me. She left because of what I am. Doom, doom

Whats this?

The [Shaman] waved something at Mrsha. The Gnolls head moved slightly. She saw the Hobgoblin had found some of the face paint the Players of Celum had left behind in the stage-section of the [Grand Theatre]. The female Hob was sniffing at it.

Mrsha didnt respond. She turned her head to the wall. She heard Ulvama unscrewing the jar, tasting it, spitting, and then muttering as she put some on her arm.

Shuffle, shuffle. Mrsha wished the Hobgoblin would go. She was the only moving thing in the inn.

Lyonette was gone. Selys came by.

The inn did get visitors. Lyonette had asked so many to take care of Mrsha. And they tried. Ohthey did try.

I got her to eat a bite. Mrsha? Wont you have another? Okay, Ill be back. Ishkr, see if you can get her to take another

Selys came every day. Shed been coaxing Mrsha to eat, without knowing that the Gnoll usually spat out the food after a single begrudging bite.

The assigned people were Selys, Ishkr, Drassi to some extent, Rose, Kevin, and Pawn. But Pawn was absent, preparing Antinium for war. Selys came as often as she could and she and Ishkr did their best. So did Rose and Kevin, when they were here, Rose more often than Kevin since she wasnt fully employed. They all watched out for Mrsha most of all.

But if they compared notes, they might realize that the food Mrsha was eating was never eaten in front of them. They would get her to have a bite, put the plate down and have to do something.

Then it would be empty, the bowl cleaned. They would smile and be reassured. What they didnt notice was in the five minute gap to go to the outhouse, or stretch their legs or talk to someone, Mrsha would throw it into the [Garden of Sanctuary] and the Fortress Beavers would eat.

Mrshas stomach growled. She ignored it. She closed her eyes. She didnt need to eat. She didnt deserve to eat. She was a bad Gnoll. A bad

Crunch, crunch, crunch. Mrshas ears picked up the sound. She smelledsaw Ulvama walking out of the kitchen with a huge bowl of chips and dip. It was fresh; nothing went bad in the inn, even with Erin on ice.

More growling, but Mrsha had learned you stopped getting hungry if you were too hungry. Shed forgotten that. It was like when everyone had left the first time. But then Lyonette had

She buried her face in her fur and tried to go back to the half-sleep trance. Covered her ears as the crunching grew louder and the Hobgoblin smacked her lips. Shed appeared at the end of the Summer Solstice, through the magic door. Mrsha didnt like her.

No, that wasnt right. She had thought nothing of Ulvama until today. The Hobgoblin had been sneaking around for days. But suddenlyshe had decided to pick on Mrsha. First it was staring, then poking Mrsha and scuttling backwards. Thenshed started kicking Mrsha and doing this!

Ulvama was a bad Goblin. Rude. She kicked Mrsha, poked her, when Mrsha just wanted to

Hm. Hmm.

The Hobgoblin put the chip bowl on the table where Mrsha was lying and then put one of the dip-bowls on Mrshas head. She balanced it there as the Gnoll remained motionless.

Mrsha didnt move. She refused to. She heard more crunching, and then the Hobgoblin began dipping chips in the salsa-bowl on Mrshas head.

At that point Mrsha rolled herself and the salsa over. It spilled onto the table and Ulvama made a sound of annoyance. Some got onto Mrshas fur. She stayed still. She waited

Crunch. After a second, Ulvama adjusted her seat and began mopping up the spilled salsa with the chips. The tables were clean, after all. You could eat your dinner off them.

The crunching got to be too much after a while. So Mrsha got up, and padded away. She slunk downstairs, and hid behind a barrel. She was d

Cold!

Ulvama shouted after a minute. Mrsha jumped. The Hobgoblin came down the stairs, wide-eyed, licking some ice cream.

This sweet. This good!

She pronounced, looking around for Mrsha. The Gnoll hid behind a barrel, wishing the Hobgoblin would explode. Ulvama looked around for Mrsha. Her eyes glowed in the darkness.

Ulvama was a Hobgoblin. Not like Numbtongue; in fact, different in every way as a Hobgoblin could be. It wasnt body size so much as attitude.

She wasnt a fat Hob like some were. But she wasnt exactly a lithe Hobgoblin warrior who trainedor had traineddaily in rigorous workouts. She was well-fed. Alsoa [Shaman].

Her body was adorned with more colorful, glowing paints than even a Redfang and she carried a staff. She also dressed in what Lyonette called scandalous attire. Mrsha thought it was close to a Plain Gnolls outfit, minus the fur.

She was also rude, mean, and she didnt leave Mrsha alone. Ulvama looked around the basement.

Stupid white sad Gnoll? Where are you?

Mrsha didnt respond. Ulvama grunted. She adjusted the bowl, and then tapped her staff on the ground.

[See Heat].

Her eyes flashed crimson in the darkness. She turnedand spotted Mrsha at once.

There. Stupid Gnoll. Stupid Gnoll

She poked Mrsha with the edge of her staff. Mrsha glared up at her. Ulvama pointed at the ice cream in the bowl.

Where more this?

Go away. Mrsha glared. Ulvama poked her again.

This. More of this. Where?

The Gnoll refused to respond. Sh

Poke, poke. Ulvama, like annoying children or people everywhere, refused to give up. On the eighth poke, Mrsha grabbed the staffs tip and snarled silently. Ulvama, undeterred, simply dragged Mrsha out of cover.

Where more sweet stuff?

Mrsha ran off. She raced up the stairs, into the common room, and thenup the stairs again. Into hers and Lyonettes room. She pushed the latch on the door, hid under the bed.

Doom. After a few seconds, she heard someone come up the stairs. A mutterthen a knock.

Stupid little Gnoll. Mrsha-child.

Ulvama tried the door. It was locked. She called out again. Mrsha ignored her. Now she could

Click.

The latch slid back and the door opened. Ulvama walked in.

Little smelly Gnoll

This time Mrsha attacked. Furiously. How dare Ulvama come in here! She lunged out from under the bed and

The Hobgoblin bonked Mrsha with the staff as the Gnoll ran into it, then put her foot on Mrshas back. She held down the outraged, squirming Gnoll, and looked around.

Ooh. Stick here.

Webs shot from her staff and immobilized Mrsha! The Gnoll struggled as she was covered by a spell. She saw Ulvama walk over to a dresser and immediately open it. She began rummaging through Lyonettes clothing! Pulling out everything, discarding what she didnt like

Mrsha began snarling and tearing at the webbing, but it just stuck even more. Ulvama chortled for ten whole minutes until the spell began to dissipate. Then she shouted as Mrsha bit her leg.

Aaah! Stupid Gnoll girl!

She smacked Mrsha on the head. Mrsha let go; it wasnt a heavy blow, and jumped back. She had blood in her mouth. She snarled as Ulvama raised her staff. The Hobgoblin chased after Mrsha

And Mrsha ran into a wall. Into a place beyond. The Hobgoblin [Shaman] lunged and smashed into the invisible barrier. Mrsha stood in the Garden of Sanctuary and listened to the cursing and shout of pain with bitter satisfaction.

It did not last. Mrshas head turned. She looked towards the hill with the mists. And there, a guardian before that place

The Hobgoblin with the sword. The crystal-metal blade gleamed. He was as empty as her.

But he had eaten. He ate mechanically, as if only to keep this strength for danger. He sat, empty.

Slowly, the little Gnoll crept up the hill. Numbtongue saw Mrsha come. She hesitated; but she was afraid to go beyond. It was too sad.

So Mrsha approached. Numbtongue watched her; then looked past. The Hobgoblin [Shaman] was banging on the door at the far end of the garden, far below. She hammered, shoutedthen gave up and stormed off in a huff.

Mrsha approached. She looked at Numbtongue. Her big brother. He said nothing. Did nothing.

Slowly, almost shyly, afraid, she leaned against him. She wanted him to say something. Even if he was mad. She looked up

His face was blank. He didnt respond. Mrsha leaned against him for a while. That made her feel b

Numbtongue moved and she fell over. He went to sit further up the hill. Mrsha looked at him. She had tried this very thing days ago. The same happened. He sat there, face half-grieving, half-frozen in a kind of bitter concentration. for new novels

Mrsha hung her head. She padded down the hill. Furry shapes went to cuddle her, but she pushed them away, like Numbtongue had done to her.

This place was too happy. She wanted a dark space to curl up. That evil [Shaman] was there, though. Mrsha left the hurt Fortress Beavers and changed the doors position.

Her room and Lyonettes. NoErins. It smelled of Erin, there. Mrsha sniffed and listened. She didnt hear the Hobgoblin. She must have left after finding the door impossible to breach. Mrsha padded through the door.

Aha! Got you, biting little Gnoll!

Two hands seized her the instant Mrsha was through. The camouflaged Goblin came off the wallshed been in Erins room, waiting for Mrsha! A trap!

Mrsha fought furiously. Her body was leaden and weak, but she had had enough! She twisted to biteand Ulvama dropped her. Mrsha hit the floor and tried to scamper off, but she was so exhausted she was not her normal, quick self. She saw a shadow and movedbut too late.

Ulvama sat on Mrsha! Her big, huge, fat butt sat on the Gnollnot with all her weight, but pinning Mrsha to the ground! She pinned Mrsha with her legs.

Got you, sly little stupid Gnoll. Always sly. Always throwing good food. Eh, eh?

Ulvama happily poked Mrsha in the side. The Gnoll snarled, twistedthen abruptly, gave up. She went limp, lifeless. Let Ulvama do what she willed. Mrsha didnt care. She probably deserved it.

The [Shaman] eyed the limp Gnoll, pursing her lips. Well, the Gnoll was as tricky as some Goblin children or [Warriors]. But Ulvama had been [Shaman] to the greatest of Goblin tribes! Little children were no match for her intellect.

Hm. Little Gnoll, you hungry? I have meat. See?

She produced a sausage and warmed it with a spell. The meat smelled heavenly. Mrsha refused to move or even blink.

Open mouth.

Mrsha felt Ulvama poke her in the face. A finger tried to prize her jaw open; Ulvama had a slice of the meat ready to insert.

The Hobgoblin saw the mouth open and snap. But her fingers were already jerking back. She saw Mrsha bitethen go limp.

Hm. Okay, not good idea. How this?

The [Shaman] was actually enjoying herself as she spoke in a version of Goblin-cant. She thought, and then began to tickle Mrsha.

Tickle, tickle. Open mouth.

Mrsha tensed. She tried not to move as the Hobgoblin tickled her neck, her belly, and the pads of her paws. Then she wriggled, fighting to get free. She couldntbut she refused to open her mouth, even when tears started leaking from her eyes.

Stubborn.

Ulvama gave up in exasperation. Well, it was time for a trump card. She shrugged, adjusted her staff, and bonked Mrsha lightly on the head.

When cleverness wouldnt work, use magic. That was a [Shaman] motto.

[Gnawing Hunger].

Mrshas eyes snapped open. She heard the first growl from her stomach so loudly that it seemed like a second animal inside her. Suddenly, her hunger pangs were back and three times as overwhelming. She began to drool as Ulvama cooled the meat in one palm, then put it in front of Mrsha.

You eat, you go. Deal? I can sit all day. Little Gnoll good pillow.

She grinned down at Mrsha. The Gnoll wanted to poke her in the stupid face! She was so hungry!

Who made spells that made you hungry!? Only Goblins. Mrsha hesitated. But she was soand she couldnt get free.

The stomach overwhelmed even the sad brains best efforts. Mrsha scarfed down the bit of sausage. Humming, Ulvama cut more with a knife and let Mrsha devour it piece by piece.

Mrsha hated that it tasted so good. She hated Ulvamabut she ate.

Lets see. Sausage for Gnoll stomachnot good to eat so muchif I think about the starvation of Hobgoblin [Warriors]how much did I feed them during the siege? But that was vegetables, which fill you updo Gnolls eat vegetables? Tricky, tricky

The little Gnoll frowned as Ulvama thought to herself. She soundedsmart there. As in, Numbtongue-smart, who could talk with big words. Was she pretending to sound like other Goblins?

She was curiousand then remembered she should be sad. Mrsha pushed at Ulvamas legs. I ate! Let me go! She wanted to sign, but her arms were pinned.

Not yet. Little Gnoll eat this, too.

Ulvama put a cookie on the floor. Mrsha glowered. No! Ulvama flicked her forehead with a finger, ignoring Mrsha trying to snap and bite it.

Good sweet thing makes Gnoll girl happy. Stop pretending not to eat. I see. I am not stupid. If little Gnolls dies, everyone is sad. Including not-dead Human, isnt that so?

She nodded to the open door. Mrshahesitated.

Erin would be sad if she died? A pang of guilt. She wasnt doing it on purpose! She spat on Ulvamas leg. The Hobgoblin narrowed her eyes. Deliberately, she wiped the spit offthen used Mrshas fur as a handkerchief! Mrsha wiggled in outrage.

You spit on me, I wipe spit on you. Now, eat sweet thing. Waitmaybe little Gnolls are allergic? Are Gnolls allergic? Why would there be food that is bad for little Gnolls here? No, no. Its fine. Eat.

Another tap on the forehead with the staff. Ulvama was smirking as Mrsha glared.

The only warning the smug [Shaman] got was seeing Mrshas face suddenly turn to one ofsatisfaction. Ulvama looked up and heard the angry buzzing.

A bee the size of her face came buzzing down like the wrath ofbees. Ulvama shouted.

Aah! What that!?

She fled. Mrsha went scampering as Apista, who had likewise been in silent mourning, came to life. Ulvama ran about Erins room, shouting, then whirled.

Die, bee!

She raised her staff. Mrsha tackled her as Apista swerved out of the way.

No! Mrsha grabbed for the staff. Ulvama shouted.

Stupid Gnoll! We both lose our eyes if I dont kill

She stopped, seeing Mrshas desperately shaking head and frantic look. Ulvama lowered the staff, eyed Apista. The bee made her back up and it protectively hovered between her and Mrsha and then landed on the little Gnolls head. Protectively, Mrsha grabbed her and hugged her as she backed away from Ulvama.

They disappeared into the [Garden of Sanctuary]. Ulvamas jaw closed after a second as the door slammed shut.

What?

But at least the little Gnoll had eaten something. Ulvama sighed. Stupid door. If she could get through it, she could take care of both Mrsha-child and Numbtongue-idiot. It was getting in the way of her work!

Now, how to trap the Gnoll when she came back? If Ulvama smelled throw-up, shed have to make sure the little Gnoll didnt do it again. Not that she thought the Gnoll was that self-destructive. Good thing, toothe [Shaman] hurried off to lay traps.

-

Humans and inn. It was true most did not stay at the inn. The Gnolls of Liscor were considering their options.

Kevin was your first pick, obviously. Because he was Kevin. But because he was Kevin, he was useful wherever. So was there a second-tier pick which was actually superior since they wouldnt be as missed?

No one wanted to give Krshia a headache, though. But stillconsider the options. Check the field.

And speaking of fieldsas the sun rose, a young man jogged across the grass.

He had a headache. But he was moving quickly. Despair and activity alternated place with Joseph. He had a drinking problem. Yet what got him out of bed as soon as Kevin was responsibility.

Maybe it was a purpose. Maybe it was the conscience of knowing hopes and dreams rested on his shoulders.

Maybe it was because the team would drag him out of bed if he didnt make it to practice.

It could be any number of things, really.

Footballreal footballhad a team of eleven players. But obviously, a team should be larger so they could be rotated in and out. And given how some people might have accidents, and those accidents could also be monster attack in this world, thirty players were jogging after Joseph.

And that was only Liscors team. And only the adults! The little leaguers were trying to follow, but Joseph had had them stop after only one lap of Liscor. They had heart, but it was hard to keep up with adults and their parents would be upset if they pushed too hard.

Besides, they had practice all day. Joseph thought that was insane, but for these players?

The game was all. Mind you, hed be going to Invrisil to coach a second team after lunch. But he started them off with the run. He panted, and then shouted, half-exasperated.

Pick up the pace! Dont stop! This is the final lap!

Four laps around the city, each day. He had to stop drinking; it was miserable with a hangover and before breakfast. To drown out the pain, Joseph shouted the chant theyd made up.

Which city wins at every game? Liscor!

Liscor!

The Drakes, Gnolls, and Humans echoed him. Joseph winced. The new [Kickers] ran in a line; from the walls he heard a slight cheer before the Senior Guardsman admonished the [Guard].

It was like, well, home. And seeing a beloved teamundefeated!practicing. There would be a game in a weeks time. No chance of Esthelm winning. Not yet. But soon there would be competition. Invrisil practically guaranteed it since Joseph was creating their team, and they had some strong players

Say it louder!

Liscor! One, two, three, four! Liscor roars and always scores!

Oh, the developing culture of the game. Both Drakes and Gnolls found reasons to like bot baseball with the Gnoll love of catching the ball and Drakes liked the idea of possession of the football. And vice versa.

Alsoit was a bit easier for Drakes in Pallass to play soccer in a confined space than baseball.

Basketball now? Well, Joseph was no good at that. But somehow, here he was.

Joseph the Soccer Player. And damn Erin forforgiving him that nickname and spreading the misinformation about the proper name around.

A celebrity, though. He had people coming up to him asking for an autograph. Sometimes very attractive people, of every species. Joseph concentrated on running, on teaching the players football. It beat thinking about anything else.

The Gnolls watched from the hilltop, lying flat to observe. Wellone of them was keeping an eye out for Shield Spiders or Rock Crabs, too.

He could be good, yes? A celebrity.

Hrm. But he drinks. And he is not as discreet as Kevin, I think.

You think Kevin is discreet? Hah! You just like him because he reminds you of the grandson you do not have.

So what? Stop bothering me, Elirr. You have cute little Mrsha. Where is she, by the way?

I have not checked. Ow!

You are leaving that child alone when her mother is gone and that [Innkeeper] is dead? Shame on you! Were visiting the inn after this. Anyways. Joseph is good, but he cannot go; there are too many people depending on him here. And we must win the next game.

Elirr massaged his ear.

True, true. Well, a shame. Let usoh!

The oh was because the spying Gnolls realized another group was conspicuously worming its way through the grass. The two Drakes stared at them. One coughed.

Ersorry. Are you here to check out Liscors team too?

Nowe were just finished.

The three Gnolls exchanged a look. The Pallassian Drakes nodded to each other.

Well, well just take this spot. Have they begun practice yet?

Elirr stared over his shoulder as the two observers set up their own observation of the Liscorian team practice. He had a distinct desire to want to rat them out to Joseph or the City Watch.

Spies. They are everywhere, yes? Not that copying our team will let them win! Whens the next game?

He huffed with civic pride. The other two grinned at him. Hemera scratched at her chin.

Speaking of spieswhy dont we check on someone before we visit the inn, yes? I hear Miss Imani is holding aaclass? In the city.

The other Gnolls raised their brows.

A class?

-

The first step is to cut the squash into roughly one inch cubes. Were going to bake it, so lets all do that.

Imani grabbed the butternut squash, fresh from Oteslia, and began peeling the outer rind with well, a peeler. Shreds came off and the Gnolls and Drakes in her cooking tutorial class copied her.

Elirr and the other two Gnolls peeked in the windowsbefore someone coughed.

You have to pay for instructionwait, is that Elirr?

Palt had caught the three Gnolls. The Centaur was smoking as per usual and the stern look he gave to the three peeking into the window of the large kitchen rented to Imani for the day turned to one of surprise.

Er, hello Palt. We were only checking in on Imani.

The [Illusionist] blinked at Elirrs shamefaced look. Alsothe hat and rather conspicuous long coats each Gnoll was wearing.

Isee. Well, shes teaching the [Cooks] and [Chefs].

Teaching?

Some of The Wandering Inns recipes. Cakes, cookiesanything they want. It beats people stealing her recipes every time she comes out with something. Not thatits a problem anymore.

Because The Wandering Inn was closed. Elirrs ears drooped.

Is she working, then?

What? Oh, yes. At The Drunken Gnoll. The inn run by Timbor Parthian?

Ah, the new Human inn. That is good. That iswell, we just wanted to see how she was doing.

The three Gnolls apologized. Palt hesitated then waved it off. He exhaled a ring of smoke from his cigar.

If its you, its probably fine. Come in. Just watch from afar.

-

Inside, Imani was teaching her first class of [Cooks] her recipes. Shed started with one of her breakfasts. Which included cubed, baked squashuntil it was tender and firm, seasoned just rightthat was just the side, obviously.

She had decided to offer it after one spy too many. Of coursemuch had changed since then, but Imani had decided to do it anyways. Just because she didnt have to cook all the time at Timbors inn; he might not have Erins Skill, but he had invested in Runes of Preservation like any good [Innkeeper] so he had his own stock of fresh foods.

Imani had run into a problem, though. Which was that the crowd of about thirty or so people taking her lesson werent all on the same page.

They were about six to a table, since it was a waste of food and time for each person to work on the dish. And it was handsor pawsor claws-on work. But Imani saw one group of [Apprentice Cooks] struggling.

One group of impatient Drakes had already peeled their entire squash, sliced it open, removed the pulpy, seedy core, and begun cubing it. They were clearly the advanced crowd. As good as Lasica, well nearly

Poor Lasica. Imani swallowed hard as she thought of that. She hadnt seen either Lasica or Rufelt since

Anyways. The apprentices were in trouble.

Are you having a hard time with the peeler?

They were only a quarter done. The Drake looked embarrassed as another apprentice clearly wanted to take it and do a good job.

Sorry, Master ImaniIm just having a tough time!

Hed hit his hand twice. Imani stared at him.

The Drake was using the peelermuch like the ones from her world, a type of blade on a handle, to peel the hard rind of a squash off. Obviously it wasnt the easiest thing because the squash was gourd-shaped. But still.

He was peeling towards himself as he held the squash sideways. Imani slowly took the squash and tilted it.

It might be your technique. Why dont you peel down like so, and?

The Drake tried it. He gasped.

Thats so easy!

Gravity and the cutting board meant he wasnt in danger of hitting his scales every time he cut. The rind came away.

Dead gods, what have I been doing with my life?

The other apprentices groanedbut two looked like they shared the unlucky Drakes opinion. Imani shook her head as she joined the other tables.

Sorry for the delay.

Hah. Were paying for lessons, not hand-holding.

One of the [Chefs] groused. Hed created perfect cubes of squash. Imani half-agreed; she felt like it might be a waste of his time.

Im sorry, Chef?

Remiss. I work at the Tailless Thief? Im here to learn your secrets.

The Drake nodded to Imani. He was stiffa tad bit unfriendly, but perhaps it was warranted. The other [Cooks] and [Chefs] murmured.

There was a pecking order among the culinary elite. Imani had never been in that world before coming here; she was an amateur cook!

Now, a dedicated one, perhaps soon to be [Chef] herself. She nodded to Remiss politely.

Thank you for coming, Chef Remiss. I hope not to waste your time. This is my first cooking class

And we were not expecting one of Liscors finest [Chefs] about. Chef Remiss, amazing knife work. Im a fan of the art of cooking myself. Can I offer you something to smoke? Chew?

A voice. Imani brightened as Palt clip-clopped over. He offered around cigars, spliffsthe Drakes and Gnolls brightened.

Never in the kitchen when cooking!

Remiss glowered, but relented as he saw the smoke from Palts cigar being trapped in a safety bubble. He took the cigar, though, sniffed it, and tucked it away.

Ill have one later. You must be that Centaur.

Palt, [Illusionist] of Wistram at your service.

The Centaur bowed from the torso. The others introduced themselves as the apprentices got their squashes ready.

[Line Cook], ErrezIm doing work at a number of restaurants

Ive seen you about. Im a [Soup Chef]. Veriny. You can find me at the Crab Bowlwere not as fancy, but I had to learn how to make a cookie

Surely, you mean sous-chef?

No, I know what I meant.

There were a number of high-level cooks in the audience! Imani gulped, but Palt gave her an encouraging wink. She hurried over to her demonstration table in the center of the room.

Is everyone done? Well then, I like to apply the following. Some olive oil, a bit of pepper, s

One of the apprentices upended the pepper all over their bowl. Imani heard a cry of dismay, and coughed as a stinging cloud hit her nostrils. Palt waved his finger urgently and the pepper cloud whirled back to the bowl.

The other [Chefs] and [Cooks] stared at the same Drake with the peeling problem. He hung his head. Imani hesitated.

We can wash the squash. As I was saying?

-

They were done with the squash when Imani realized there were multiple levels of her class, as if that hadnt been obvious. She turned to Palt.

Can youdemonstrate the rest of the breakfast dish?

Its just the hamburger on rice, right? And I know a few more. I can take over.

Thank you. Im just going to get the recipes.

The Centaur clip-clopped over to the demonstration table and smiled.

Cook Imani is just going to get some reference materials. If youre with melets go over making the ground beef into patties. Have you all washed your hands?

Some of the class were watching intently. But abouttwelve of the thirty were looking impatient. Like Remiss. Imani hurried over and beckoned them.

Excuse me? I have the recipes of what were going to make today. If youd like, I can run through them with you while Palt goes step-by-step.

She presented them with a small sheaf of neatly-copied recipes and instructions, with ingredients, measurementsall done by a [Scribe], very cheap.

Remiss, who had been folding his claws and glowering, blinked.

You have the recipe books? And youre justgiving them away?

Yes. I was going to hand them out after the class, but I didnt realize you knew all the techniques. I would not want to waste your timehere.

She handed them out to the higher-level [Chefs] and [Cooks] shed noticed. The Drakes, Gnolls, and one Human looked at each other as they paged through.

Mm. This is easy to understand! Not like some home-recipes Ive had to copy. Thank you! I dont think theres muchcertainly not the breakfasts. Good cooking! Thank you for the recipe, but I dont need to know how to make a hamburger. Figured it out after four tries myself. Only trick was cooking it just right.

One of the Gnolls commented. The others nodded. One frowned and raised a hand.

AhId like to see the ice cream process, actually. And your technique makingwhat is this? A croissant? Intriguing.

Imani was only too happy to show them. She waved at Palt, then took over the advanced class for a run through of what shed go through with the others later.

It was refreshing to be around, well, experts who enjoyed something as much as you did. That was why Imani and Palt had somehow met. The Centaur had kept wandering in to ask how shed prepared a dish and they got to talking about recipes, techniques

And cooking was fun. Something Erin never really understood. She enjoyed serving food, butImani pushed the thoughts out of the way as she talked animatedly.

So this technique is actually hard to do in a place with a [Preservation] spell. I actually had to askhad to ask for a space without the effect to let the aging process take place for about four days. In a refrigerated place, though! So our patty is actually going to be poached in said butter as it melts

This is decadent.

Heinous. I cant wait to make some of these.

Some of the Drakes and Gnolls were discussing the techniqueone among many. They had varying fields of knowledge; the [Soup Chef] could have taught everyone about soups, for instance, but Imani was explaining some of the more esoteric ideas to them. They watched as Imani began to poach said hamburger in the butter wrap

Id never have the time to personally prepare some of the meals with how much food I have to serve during the busy hours. Well, thats what an apprentice is for.

Remiss commented to another [Cook] and the man nodded. Everyone winced as someone dropped a bowl from the junior-instructional area. Imani didnt even have to look to guess who it was, from the apologizing voice.

Who is that klutz?

Remiss was outraged. A GnollErrezmurmured.

That must be Cepil. Young ladrecently apprenticed. Youd never guess it, but amazingly precise at telling when somethings perfectly done. Give him a steak and hell make it medium-rare even if the heats twice as hot as it should be. Not even a Skill, just good temperature-sense.

Well, hes not ready to learn any of this. Why did his master pay to let him?

Ah. Remiss? His masterYen? Shes dead. Army versus Hectval.

Imanis fingers slipped as she was cutting up some nuts. A hand darted outRemiss caught the knife a second before it could slash her. Shaken, she stopped.

Im sorry. Thank you

Think nothing of it. I see. And no ones taken him in?

Not a one. Not that Yen was ever good at teaching the basics. Did you see the way she cut up?

The [Cooks] and [Chefs] were laughing, talking, but sadly. Even here, the aftereffects were present. Imani turned to look at the Drake apprentice in a new light.

So did Remiss.

Well, someone should take him under their wing. Ill put up with him in my kitchens, at least until he stops dropping everything in sight.

Excuse mewere just doing frosting now. Decorations for the cake you wanted?

Imani adjusted the cooking hamburger example. The others jumped.

Terribly sorry, Cook Imani.

Some of them ducked their heads. Imani shook hers.

Noits fine. I was just wondering, is that how it works? You apprentice to a master? Cant he learn any other way?

One of the Gnolls scratched his ear. He was very careful about getting hair in his food, Imani noticed, and stood well back from her work space.

If he has the talent and drive? Hes fine to. But otherwise he should get a good master. Mind younot all can teach properly. My master never taught me how to properly debone a fish. Never learned; his one weakness each spring. That was how he died.

He choked to death on a fish bone in his dish? Thats awful.

A female Drake commented. The Gnoll gave her a crooked smile.

No. Someone else nearly did and they stabbed him.

Imani shivered. The others shook their heads.

Different standards of teaching. You can see itsee that Drake over there? The girl so artfully doing everything? Her master is Tell Rissiel. Im sure shell be an amazing [Chef].

Imani listened as she mixed up some frosting and coated a demo-cake. Then served everyone a slice. They nodded appreciatively, asking her about toppings. Had she ever tried meats? Imani suspected there might be some weird cakes coming out of Liscor soon.

So theres no school for new cooks?

School? Like somesomewell, no!

One of the Drakes snorted as he took a bite of his cake. He shook his head, chewing.

Good cake. No, we were all surprised you even were holding this class. Normally we fight tooth-and-claw over recipes.

Well, Im happy to share these ones if you all stop stealing my techniques! Anyways, I have more. These are just the basic ones.

They all laughed at the first part, and then narrowed their eyes at the second. Imani sighed. Cooking was cutthroat in a world where a new recipe or a sudden rush of customers could mean a new level and thus Skill.

But how long do apprentices take? Cant they all take aa class like this and learn how to do everything for a year or a few months?

That sounds like an apprenticeship but with more steps, Cook Imani. Wed still need to teach them more.

Yes, but it would stopthat.

Palt had to halt the lesson again as he stopped the luckless Drake from using a chopping technique that was going to lose him a claw sooner or later. The other [Chefs] and [Cooks] looked at each other.

I wouldnt say no if there was one. But who would want to teach all day? For that matterwere [Cooks]. We dont enjoy training up good apprentices. I know I curse each time a senior one decides to leave. Id pay proper [Cooks] as assistants if it wasnt so expensive.

A Gnoll sighed. Imani half-shook her head at the way they thought. The idea of institutionalized schooling, a system for it? It made so much sense to her

But she saw how it was hard to occur naturally. Someone had to plan it out. Teaching was a skill, an actual skill, not Skill, and you had to find someone willing to teach it all.

Well, I can at least teach your apprentices how to cut properly. It takes just an hour of time. If you wantyou can send them to me and Palt. Peeling, chopping, maybe I should open it for everyone. Everyone should know how to cube a squash without losing a finger, shouldnt they?

All the cooks smiled at that. There was a sentiment they could get behind. They thanked Imani and left; two stayed to watch and talk as Imani went to help Palt with the class. After thirty minutes, one came over to ask if she was serious about teaching the apprentices. Imani looked at the luckless Drake, and then at Palt. She decided it was worth a shot.

Cutting, peeling, andbaking bread? She could always give the bread and output to Timbor to sell cheaply as snacks and appetizers.

-

Look at that.

Elirr murmured. Permel glanced up; he was jotting notes down himself from the class theyd watched.

What was that, Elirr?

A teacher or instructor of some sort

Elirr remembered a silly request. His eyes stung and he looked away. Permel didnt understand the context and gave him a blank look.

Miss Imani could be another good one to send. She cooksshe is polite

She was attacked by Crelers. She is fine now, yes, but I would not want to make her travel.

Hrr. No. And the Centaur would want to come too. And he is Wistram

And the tribes hated Wistram. Elirr snapped his fingers together. Three down! Drat. Four to go.

Well, maybewho is left? Rose, Galina, Leon, Troyhrm. I do not know about Leon and TroyI heard there was trouble from Erin when I visited.

The Gnoll [Scribe] nodded.

Perhaps not them. But Rose or Galina? Where are they? I have seen Miss Rose about now and then, especially helping Joseph or Kevin. But not Galina.

That was a good question. The Gnolls looked at each other. And they realized no one had seen Galina for

-

Galina was gone. It was a slow realization for Ishkr. Selys noticed when she came back to check on Mrsha just around lunch.

You havent seen Galina?

Nobut the guests feed themselves. But now that you say it, Selys, I have not seen Miss Galina iner

The Gnoll hurried to Galinas room. He knockedthen tentatively tried the handle. When they opened the door?

Shed try it later.

The second thing Ryoka had she wore on her feet. Namas foot wraps. Nothing special about themexcept that Ryoka had run in them through the lands of the fae, across fields of fire where the Phoenix had lived and they hadnt been singed. They might have magical power. If they were anything like Nama, they were more than they seemed.

Lastly, and this was sort of weirdher third gift was uh, autographs.

Signed autographs by the King of Chivalry himself. Arthur of Camelot, the King of Knights. All three ages, although the youngest Arthur Pendragons personal one to her was never going to be sold. But she had the most valuable autographs in the world if she could convince anyone they were legitimate.

Footwear, sword, and autograph. Had she gone shopping at the worlds weirdest mall or something?

All that. And here she was, back where shed started. Letting kids sail around on makeshift sailboats. Ryoka felt like she was back at Reizmelt.

She sat there, watching as Lord Hethon and Sammial shouted with glee. Sammial had tied Ryokas bed sheets in a knot around his chest and was being dragged backwards. He hopped, and travelled a good fourteen feet before he landed. The wind playfully blew Hethon about, and he was laughing and trying to hop and touch the rooftops and leap from there.

Careful, Lord Hethon, Lord Sammial! Miss Griffin, can you control the wind?

I dont quite control it, Jericha. Itssafe. Probably.

The bespectacled woman gave Ryoka a look saying that probably wasnt nearly good enough. She watched anxiously, wand at the ready.

Ryoka watched too.

After all the travails and heartache, here she was. She had come so close. She had the scroll in her hand. And now

The Gods were alive. She had seen the message on Lakens phone. She had knownwhat? That someone in Wistram was on their side? How had they known what to send?

Laken didnt know what to make of it either, but he wascagey about what hed seen.

What now? Ryoka sat there. The boys were laughing. And soon, more people heard the laughter and came running.

Wots this now? Look at that! Come on, you lot!

A slightly scruffy boy stopped and stared as he saw Sammial being blown around and Jericha chasing after him. He wasnt far off the ground, but he was flying. Grev Redigal pointed, and heads turned.

Lady Eliasor Melissar, two of Mister Prosts children, eight young [Lords] and [Ladies], fourteen more of Riverfarms own, and six [Witches] all stared, mouths agape.

Well, the [Witches] looked more familiar with flying. Grev was delighted.

Its Miss Griffin, innit? I heard she was the Wind Runnerlets all fly! Come on! All we needs a sheet!

Are you sure, Mister Grev? She was at the party. She could beodd.

Eliasor wasnt certain. Lady Zanthia had debriefed her wards after the party and cautioned them about what had occurred, but she wasnt here to ask; she was still abed. Sick, from the trials of the party.

The scarf. It had turned to dust the next day, but Lady Zanthia had slept four days from the stress of it and was still abed.

Grev was already racing forwards before Eliasor could object, though.

Miss Griffin! Miss Griffin, will you let us do that?

The Wind Runner waved at him; Grev grinned and turned to the others.

Shes alright! Come onshes fine. I know her!

Grev knew everyone. And he had somehow become the center of this group of children. After allhe was Jasis brother, and a Face of Invrisil. He gestured at the others, then went back to chivvy one of the slower children along.

Come on, Nanette!

The [Witch] girl didnt smile with anticipation. But she did quicken her steps a bit as the others broke up to grab whatever sheets and blankets they could find. The Riverfarm [Washers] and people objected to the purloining of their sheets, but they stopped when they saw who it was taking themthe nobles children, ratherand what they were being used for.

Soon, more children were begging to go flying and sailing about, shouting, colliding with each other, and experiencing the joys of aviation. The highest they got was a rooftop; Grev was blown onto one with his makeshift parachute. And they laughed and smiled.

Ryoka Griffin sat there. Smiling faintly when she saw Sammial screaming in delight or Hethon tying his sheet to three others to create a mass-sail that dragged a cluster of children along. For a moment, it was good.

But it could not last forever. The truth remained. Erin was gone. And Ryokashe knew and did not know what came next.

She opened her eyes when the quarrel started. Predictably, it was Sammial, who wanted a turn on a wheelbarrow-sailboat. The older children refused, giddy with excitement.

He threw a tantrum.

-

The [Emperor] of Riverfarm watched Ryoka Griffin with his all-seeingvision. It seemed like a little fight had broken out. He identified Sammial Veltras punching a larger boy before he was dog-piled.

I never really got into fights because I was blind, but even I know better than that.

The young man murmured to himself. Jericha and Ryoka were striding to the fight, and Laken could not hear since he was sitting in his home, but he imagined tears, tantrums, and all of what youd normally expect.

It was a bittersweet thing. A good thing, probably, after all that had happened. He had heard of Eliasors tragedy. And he knew Nannettes all too well. Even Sammial Veltras deserved happinessalthough Laken Godart would let him have his fun away from wherever he, Laken, was. The boy was a bit obnoxious.

It was good to see them running about, even if it was briefly. Yet, there were shadows in even childish joy. And not the tantrums.

Erin Solstice. Laken had never met her. But Ryoka Griffin had told him more about her after the Summer Solstice. They had shared a drink, to debrief, talk.

He wished Erin had been there. She had beengonefor less than two weeks. And it was too long, and far too short for processing. Griffon Hunt had stopped working; Ryoka Griffin had been beating herself up over her failure.

Not that Laken knew all of what had passed. Nor did he know what Ryoka Griffin was going to do. She probably thought he was reluctant to talk about what they should talk about.

The truth is that I dont want to know.

The [Emperor] muttered to himself. He did not want to know Ryokas plans. Because, perhaps if he knew

He sat alone in the cottage. But presently, he felt around with his walking cane. He had taken to carrying it with him again. And he poked around, even though his Skill told him he was alone.

Wherever Ryoka Griffin went, whatever she didhe would help. But he would not ask her plans. Nor could he tell her why. And he had tried to write it down, say it, record it.

A name haunted his mind. A promise.

We will meet again. Sooner, this time.

-

It was such a bleak world after that. And it was not, not really. The sun still shone. But what darkened it for them was heartbreak.

The fire had gone out. The young woman lay encased in ice.

The Worker had parked the wagon outside the inn. He was loading it with arrows as the nervous donkey snorted and pawed the ground.

There you are.

Bird found Ishkr trying to nudge Selys bindings undone. They frozehe rolled them away from the walls where Rose had been trying to kick a message. But the walls were thick and only one person would have heard them.

Dont do this. Selys tried to speak, but Bird just left. He was transferring his arrows to the wagon, one load at a time. She frantically tried to remove her bindings. All her Skills and artifacts were useless or Bird had taken.

Ishkr was likewise helpless. It was Rose who kept struggling. She was trying to do something. She rolled over, and overand then put her back to Selys. Shed wavered between her and Ishkr. But Selys was chosen becausethe Drake saw Rose jerk her head.

She wiggled her bound claws over at last, and Rose pointed her bound hands back towards Selys. After confirming she was aiming at the bindings, she muttered.

Fmgh.

A jet of fire shot out of her fingers. A tiny one. Selys yelpedthen realized. Rose was a [Mage]! She winced as the heat cooked her scales, but better her than Ishkr. And all they needed wasSelys eyes began to water with pain, but she held on. Bird walked past their room and they all froze, but he just loaded more arrows into his bag of holding without checking on them.

-

Oh, these dark days. Mrsha made her peace with Ulvama. But she still did not want to be tormented into eating. She ate to prevent that. Then curled up on the counter. She just wanted to sleep, now.

Poke. Not sleep yet, little Gnoll-girl. You help me, now.

Ulvama jabbed Mrsha in the side. The Gnoll girl swiped at Ulvama irritably. But the [Shaman] was insistent.

You know how to get into plant-place. The garden?

She pointed out the kitchen, towards where the door was. Mrsha thoughtand Ulvama jumped as it appeared on a wall of the kitchen.

Good Skill. Not yours?

Mrsha looked at Ulvama. The [Shaman] pressed a palm against the invisible barrier and looked at Mrsha.

You help me through. Broken Goblin inside. Numbtongue?

Mrsha nodded. Numbtongue? What did she want with?

Ah. Ulvama had the steak. She looked at Mrsha, almost pleadingly.

Stupid Goblins starve after Chieftain dies. You help me. He wont starve. Show me way through. Special words? Special objects?

None of that. Mrsha shook her head. She wasnt sure. Ulvama probably couldnt harm her or Numbtongue even if she was let inbut Mrsha had never tested that. The [Shaman] glowered. But then her face twisted.

Please?

It came out reluctantly. Ulvama was not used to saying the word. Mrsha hesitated. She looked at Ulvama. The Hobgoblin reached out to Mrshaeyed her. She stared at something Mrsha could not see.

Little Mrsha-child, help me. Do a good thing for the sad Goblin. You care aboutNumbtongue?

Mrsha looked up. Slowly, for answer, she stood up. She dropped onto the floor. Ulvama watched her. Mrsha beckoned. She held out a paw and stood on her two legs. Ulvama looked at her paw. Slowly, she took it. Mrsha walked clumsily forwards, into the [Garden of Sanctuary]. She tugged and Ulvama gasped.

The girl pulled Ulvama through. The [Shaman] stood on the grass of the safe place. She inhaled the fragrant, fresh air. She looked up at the opening in the dome letting in fresh sunlight.

She smiled. Mrsha looked up at her. She did not smile, but she didnt feel bad about her decision either. Ulvama looked at the statue sitting on the hill who yet breathed and mourned. Then at Mrsha.

Thank you, little Mrsha-child. NowI help that Goblin.

Mrsha nodded. Ulvama looked at her, gratitude in her crimson eyes. Thenshe carefully walked around Mrsha. She angled her foot, inserted it beneath Mrshas bumand punted the Gnoll straight out of the garden.

Mrsha went flying. The Gnoll landed in the kitchen of The Wandering Inn and whirled around. What the? Ulvama smiled at Mrsha. Then she spoke.

Little children stay out.

She slammed the door.

-

Numbtongue sat on the hill, barely registering anything.

The statues were gone. They had returned to their place on the hill. But there was nothingleft.

Just memory. They had been here. And they had gone.

Something had come. Somethingand Reiss had nearly been destroyed. But he had saved her.

Numbtongue should have taken his hand from the start. But if he had?

They were gone.

And so was she. Despair was the Goblins world. Despair and grief andhe would sit here. If anything came, he would kill it.

He had let Mrsha come and go. He had eaten when Palt made him move. Beyond that? He had no desire for anything. His ghosts were silent. Possibly Pyrite thought there was nothing to be said. ShorthiltShorthilt mourned.

And Reiss was just fragments. Numbtongue didnt know what to do. Badarrow had gone, and Snapjaw before him. His brother had been just as broken.

All was lost. Numbtongue bowed his head. He only raised it when he saw the figure coming up the hill. He recognized Ulvamaignored her.

Then blinked. Even in his full depression and mourning, the Hobgoblin noticed a distinct lack of clothing.

You.

Ulvama grinned at him. She had removed her top. Numbtongue stared at her. Herecognized her. No

The [Shaman] seductively walked closer. She bent down.

Sad Goblin. You need to eat. Listen to me. I am a [Shaman]. Why dont you

She was reaching out to touch his shoulder with a simmering spell in her claw when the [Goblin Soulbard] caught her wrist. His eyes flickered.

Ulvama. Enough. Leave him alone.

The [Shaman] recoiled. The broken Goblins face had changed! His voice, too! He spoke shortly. Her memory tingledbut then she collected herself. She tried to touch his handhe let go.

Grumpy Goblin. You remember me. Dont want to talk to female Hobgoblin after all this time? What about big, strong, male Goblin? Better? I can be both.

She poked him gently. That would normally get a rise out of a Goblin either way. This one just grunted. He scratched his belly.

[Shaman] magic is not what Numbtongue wants. Sex is not useful. Go away.

She frowned. Was he speaking in third-person? The Hobgoblin picked up something. Grass from the hilltop. He put it into his mouth and began to chew.

Hm. Bitter.

He sounded sofamiliar. She knew the mannerisms, way of speaking. And he seemed to know her.

Have we met?

She demanded. Why was he suddenly so talkative? The Hob glanced at her.

Little [Shaman] of the Mountain City tribe. Used to get in trouble for stealing chief [Shaman]s paints when we were small. Helped me when I didnt poo for two weeks after eating rocks.

She stared. Only one Goblin came to mind. But that was impossible. She had seen him die.

Pyrite?

Mm. Thirty seconds. Leave Numbtongue alone. He will cut you. Unstable. Unhappy. Doesnt need Ulvama-treatment.

The Hobgoblin chewed. Ulvamas mind raced. She knew Pyrite, before he had left Tremborags mountain. If he was hereshe gasped.

He knows the old secrets! HeNumbtongueis a [Ghost Shaman]!?

She looked at the Hobgoblins possessed body with awe and fear. He had become a medium for the Goblins of old? Pyrite shook his head briefly.

No. [Goblin Soulbard].

Oh.

Ulvama hesitated. She didnt know that one. But she knew it existed. She peered at Pyrite.

He has your ghost.

For ten seconds. Nine, eight

Wait! Does he have ghost of Garen Redfang? Tremborag? Goblin Lord?

She grew excited. This was it! If he was this rare Goblin, thenPyrite looked at her.

I told him all about you. Do not play your tricks. He does not needwe do not need a Ch

The last word cut off as Numbtongue returned. The Hobgoblins voice halted in the middle of the word.

Chieftain. He inhaled, coughed, and spat the mouthful of grass out. He stared at Ulvama. His face twisted into hostility in an instant.

Go.

Ulvama backed up. She saw the crystal sword in his lap tense. She smiled

Pyrite in your head. He tell you about me?

Seducing [Shaman]. Go away.

His eyes burned. She indicated her full figure.

Not interested a bit?

Numbtongue turned to look over his shoulder. Towards the hill with mists. He looked at Ulvamashe was already making tracks. She knew a murderous look in the eyes when she saw it.

-

The art of seducing Goblins wasnt usually this hard. Ulvama investigated the [Garden] as she tied her top, grumbling. Although there were things you learned.

Likedont try to seduce a Goblin when the dead body of their friend was only a dozen feet away. Shed forgotten that there was a frozen Human here. Rookie mistake, really.

Shed have to try again. A [Soulbard]. Ulvama didnt know the class, but she could investigate by memory. A [Shaman] remembered.

And this garden was fascinating. Ulvama saw plenty of things she could use for her craft. Sages Grass aplenty! So that was how the magic door ran. This place was also a ley line. If she had a tribe and this wasnt so close to the city, shed have wanted to settle here.

For now, she had to think. The female Hobgoblin kicked around, spotting a pond, the arid and jungle sections

Then ran smack-dab into an angry little Gnoll with a bee on her head. And a half dozen big Fortress Beavers.

Ulvama halted and stopped. Mrsha was giving her a dirty look. She folded her arms as the big beaver chittered loudly.

Uh. Nice Mrsha-child?

The [Shaman] hesitated. Mrsha made a rumbling sound in her throat and the beaver-gang slapped their tails on the ground. Ulvama did not want to pick a fight with a bunch of giant rodents who outweighed her and had teeth like shovel blades.

Sorry, little Gnoll. Trying to cheer sad Goblin up! Didnt work!

Mrsha stared at Ulvama and glowered harder. She made some rapid signs with her paws. Ulvama frowned.

Youis that words?

Mrsha nodded. What she had just said waswell, it was rather rude, but it translated to dont have sex with Numbtongue and if you kick me again, Ill have a beaver eat your foot!

Ulvama got the message either way. She hissed and backed up. Bratty little Gnoll children and ghost-possessed Goblins! Everything was so much easier with Tremborag. Love him or hate himand Ulvama had not loved himhe had been simple to anticipate and deal with, his tribe likewise.

The Ulvama-method of working your way to the top of a power structure did not apply to Pyritewho knew all her tricksor Mrsha. And she wasnt sure she could seduce the Gnoll who cleaned things or whether that was useful.

She was frustrated, but she didnt give up. If the most direct and, to her, easiest method failed, she could always be nice. She smiled at Mrsha.

Sorry, Gnoll-child. I will not do it again. Lets be friends. I take care of you, you help me. Okay?

Mrsha gave her a flat-eyed stare. She folded her armsthen nudged one of the beavers. The gang waddled off, but the big one gave another tail slap and Ulvama a look as if to say, were watching you. Dont mess with our kid.

Ulvama eyed the beavers, then saw Mrsha glancing towards Numbtongue.

Sad Goblin has ghosts. Harder to make happy, get to eat.

She explained. Mrsha blinked. She didnt seem surprised to hear that; only surprised Ulvama knew. Curious. Ulvama sighed.

Little Gnoll, this place is weird.

After a moment, Mrsha nodded and sat down on the grass. They could both agree on that, even if Mrsha didnt think that was necessarily a bad thing.

Well, here they were. Ulvama sat on the grass. She felt unaccountably tired; of course, shed also laid a dozen trap runes all over the inn. Drat. She was going to have to take them off. But at least

Silly Human. Your mother? She left you here. Stupid woman.

Mrsha punched Ulvama in the stomach. The [Shaman] doubled over, wheezing, and then brought her staff down. She missed. Mrsha glared. Dont say bad things about Lyonette!

Little Gnollow. I meant, stupid because she did not take you! Even if it was dangerouschildren should go with parents. Better than being left to stay.

Ulvama wheezed. Mrsha hesitated, and nodded. Tentatively, she patted Ulvamas stomach. The [Shaman] gave her a look.

You punch me again and I smack you hard.

She raised her staff. Mrsha nodded. This was fair. Ulvama sat there. Yes, that young woman should have taken the child with her. She had left her with well-meaning people. But the Gnoll, the Drake, and the others werentcaretakers. They had no idea.

And perhaps Mrsha saw that. Because she looked so lost and sad and miserable. And what they should have done was never leave her alone. Not for a second. Not children.

Ulvama sat with her back to the rising hill. She leaned back. She was tired. This was enough progress for one day in her mind. Numbtongue wouldnt starve in a day, not after being fed.

Mrsha sat there. Her expression grew clouded, uncertain.

Bad thoughts. They led to bad feelings, bad actions. Bad things. Ulvama knew it all too well. She could remembershe looked at Mrsha, sighed, then patted the ground next to her.

Silly Gnoll. Come here.

The Gnoll-child hesitated. Butshe had leaned against Numbtongue until he left. Slowly, she edged over. Ulvama immediately tugged her next to her. She leaned Mrsha against her.

There. Sleepy.

She murmured. Mrsha felt uncomfortable at firstthenreassured. She leaned against Ulvama. This was what she had been missing. Not Ulvamabut Lyonette.

She sniffed quietly. Ulvama pretended not to hear. She began to hum, absently. The [Garden of Sanctuary] was a good place. She felt safe here; and she had felt safe in this inn. She didnt know why. Only that she feltshe owed the owner of this place a debt. Not from her, but on behalf of her kind.

She was on the hill, Ulvama knew. But she sensed neither life nor death there. Just power. Absently, she hummed. After a second, she began to stroke Mrshas head as the little Gnoll began to drift off to the first real, unaided sleep in a week.

-

Enough, Bird. Please, stop.

The Worker turned. He raised his bow, but Selys was unarmed. She held up her claws; one had been badly burned. But a healing potion had mended it. And they were free.

Rose and Ishkr all blocked the way to the stairs and the last load of arrows. The Worker looked up at Selys.

I do not wish to hurt you, Miss Selys, Ishkr, Miss Rose. But I will if I must. I will go to Hectval.

Youll die, Bird.

I do not think I will.

Dont you think its wrong, Bird? To kill innocent people? I couldunderstandHectvals army. Or even hating their Council. But everyone? Dont you feel guilty about that? You will feel guilty.

Bird tilted his head.

Miss Rose. I have killed people. I have killed monsters. I have killed birds, and rats that eat the food here. I do not feel guilty about killing things. Some things must die. Hectval is one of them. You cannot change my mind. Nothing you say can.

He aimed the bow at them and they flinched aside. Bird walked past them, and Selys followed.

Birdif Erin was hereshed stop you.

Yes. And she is not. So no one can.

There was calm, pained certainty in his words. Selys looked at Rose and Ishkr. What could they say? They had to go for Zevara, then. But surelysurely there was something that could be said, or done. But what?

If only she was here. And she was. But Selys did not know the words. Selys looked at his back. At last, she spoke quietly, as he was putting the last of the arrows into the bag of holding.

Bird. We cant stop you. But if Erin was standing here, and she heard what you wanted to do, if you did it and she woke upshe would cry. She would not want this.

Bird halted, hand on the last arrows, the one made with Bevussas feather. He looked up at her. For the first time, he wavered, dropped an arrow.

But she is not here.

That was all he said. He turned, and resumed picking up arrows.

-

Ulvama gently patted Mrshas head. The Gnoll was drifting off when she heard the curse.

Aaah! Again! Giants poo!

The [Shaman] waved her clawed hand. Mrsha jerked. Was something wrong? She looked up and saw

A glowing flame. Mrshas eyes went round. It burned bright and clear. It gave off such a pure light it almost hurt. And it was blue.

But not the blue of winter, the blue of depression and darkness. This was the same color as the brilliant sky. The color, like fresh air. Like

Hope. Mrsha stared at it. It could not be. But only one flame burned so. She reached for it

Ulvama blew it out and wiped the fragments on the grass.

Gah! Everywhere!

She glowered at her hand, checking to see if it was burnt

Mrsha tackled her. She began pounding Ulvama with her fistsgentlybeating her. The [Shaman] yelped.

Stop! Stop it! What is wrong with you?

She yanked Mrsha off her. The Gnoll was trembling. She pointed at Ulvamas claw. You! What did you do? It was there and it went out!

Ulvama stared at Mrsha, then the fire.

You know what that is? Keeps getting on you. There!

She pointed at Mrshas paw, accusingly. Mrsha gazed at it, hopeful, then confused. She saw nothingUlvama scooped something up. She eyed itthen hurled it down and began to stomp.

Stupidmagicfire

Mrsha went for a leg. Ulvama toppled over and Mrsha looked around desperately for

She saw nothing. She sagged. Then looked furiously at Ulvama. The [Shaman] raised her staff protectively.

Stop it! Why that flame matter so much? Too many weird fires! Bad if it burns all over!

She squawked, defensively. Mrsha opened and closed her mouth. How could she even explain? It was Erins fire.

How had Ulvama gotten it on her claws? Mrsha remembered Erins last flame going out. She had been soit had been

Ulvama saw Mrshas mouth opening and closing. She scratched her head, sighing.

Little Gnoll-child. Too bad your mouth doesnt work, eh? It would be so much easier if I could understand what you were saying!

She grumbled, shaking her head. Mrsha looked at her. She held up a single paw and felt at her waist. Then remembered she had no belt pouch. She ran for the closest wall of the garden.

Bemused, Ulvama watched. She saw Mrsha come racing back with quill and paper. She began writing furiously. Ulvama blinked.

You. You can write?

Duh. Mrsha wrote, getting ink on her white fur while Ulvama read. She blinked.

Erins fire? Magical fire? [Like Fire, Memory]? Ooh. Oh. Hm, hmwent out?

She looked at Mrshas wretched face. The Gnoll held up a pleading note.

Please bring it back! Is there more?

Ulvama checked Mrsha up and down. The Hobgoblin gave her a big smile. And edged back.

Um. All gone. Sorry.

Shed taken it off Mrsha. The Gnoll looked at her and fell flat on her back. Ulvama hurried over.

I thought it was bad! Kept changing! I didnt know! It kept burning little Gnoll. See?

She grabbed Mrsha and the Gnoll saw her lift her arm. Sure enough; the fur on her arm was short. Mrsha stared. She hadnt noticed.

You said, flame went out when dead HumanerErin tried to give it to you?

Mrsha nodded. Ulvama nodded wisely.

Ah, but some on little Mrsha-child. Becausefur is flammable.

She pronounced her scientific hypothesis as to why the flame had lingered. Mrsha blinked at her a few times. So a spark had remained. So small she hadnt noticed it, on her fur. A bit of hope and kindness and Erins fire, still burning.

And now it was gone, thanks to Ulvama. The little [Druid] nodded solemnly. She put two paws in her mouth and whistled. Time for the Beaver-gang.

No, stop!

Ulvama waved a frantic claw. She pointed at Mrshas notes as ominous furry beavers surfaced out of the pond. Apista buzzed around Ulvamas face and the Hobgoblin ducked. The little [Druid] held up a paw. And what did Ulvama have to say?

Fire went out. Not good. Butso what? Give me one chance. Help meand I help you.

Ulvama pleaded with Mrsha. She looked at the little Gnoll. She did not regret taking the fire. Perhaps it had been burning those emotions away to survive. It was a glorious thing. But dangerous. Mrsha looked at her, confused.

But a flicker of that same fire in her eyes. Ulvama reached out and took Mrshas paw. She looked at the little Gnolls face and understood at last.

She did not know the story. But she saw what Mrsha needed.

Come with me.

-

Sammial was red-faced. Not cryingbut he had tears in his eyes from refusing to cry.

He had a scratch on his cheek; another boy had been kicked in the gonads. The wind had died. Ryoka looked at the upset children.

I think thats enough flying for today, guys.

Sammy!

Hethon rounded on his younger brother. Sammy was red-faced.

It wasnt my fault! They wouldnt give me a turn! And I asked! Politely!

Its not Sammys fault

Entirely. Ryoka soothed the children. Theyd gotten a good thirty minutes of playing, anyways. And sheshe was out of sorts. She had fumbled around with the TechbladeFaebladedead gods, she needed a better name for itlong enough.

The truth was, she was still mourning. Still grieving Erin. She had not processed it while hope remained. Now? She had only two avenues left. One easier than the other.

The first was Teriarch. But he had not responded to her. His cave seemedgone. Yet she needed his aid. She craved it. For a Dragonwhere fae failed, perhaps the Dragon could help her.

And she would do whatever it took this time.

But the other road was longer still. More dangerous. She knew where the scroll Ivolethe and fate had led her to. Yetit would be hard.

So that was why Ryoka Griffin played peacekeeper. Why she reassured Hethon theyd all get a turnafter dinner. And why she put up with Sammial. Thatand she saw more than a bit of herself in them.

But she might need Lord Tyrions help. And she had called on more than enough favors for him to consider the debt repaid. Yet she might need the aid of House Veltras. The Emperor of Riverfarm.

Even more. Ryoka straightened as the children begged for another go.

In a moment. Right nowI need to do something. You can all watch, butthere she is. Miss Yesel?

She turned to Prosts wife. The woman was waving at her.

Is now a good time, Miss Griffin? We finished what you were asking for. We think its all goodits quite an honor, you entrusting it to us!

Well, you are the best [Needlewomen] and [Sewers] so on in all of Riverfarm. Erexcept for

Belavierr. And there was no way in any hell Ryoka would ever ask for aid from her.

Miss Yesels face darkened at the unspoken name, but she smiled, beckoning Ryoka. The kids, curious now, followed. Some knew what Ryoka had asked the woman and the other [Seamstresses] and so ons aid for and brightened.

Not just them, but [Carpenters], woodworkers, even the crabby, spitty Jelovs aid. It was two things, rather. Ryoka followed the woman.

I have to pay you, Miss Yesel

His Majesty wont hear of it. Besides which, it is something to brag about. At least, if you keep using it!

Ill try. I still have the scarf you gave me. It kept me warm all winter, Miss Yesel.

Do you? Oh my, that seems so long ago. Im glad you kept it!

Ryoka smiled. It was a polite lie; shed actually burned the scarf less than a week after receiving it. During the Winter Solstice.

This world sucked sometimes. Sammial was still angry and miserable again as he saw the Wind Runner conferring with Miss Yesel. He wanted to see, but the other childrenand even some adults, the women whom Ryoka had asked for help from and [Builders] and even the [Engineers] were all crowded around and she was thanking them and shaking hands.

Does this mean youll be leaving soon?

It was one of the things she had stayed for. Sammial stared up at Ryoka miserably as Jericha helped him through the crowd. He stared at thetriangle of cloth. The light wooden frame. The children looked avid.

Ryoka had changed her clothing too. She was adjusting her new garments and Sammial thought they looked interestingand stupidat the same time. He knew what it was theyd finished.

And it was excitingbut it meant she was going to go. The Wind Runner hesitated.

I will have to go back to work, Sammial. I am a Runner.

Courier. Youre a Courier now.

Ryoka blinked as if shed forgotten that. She smiled at Sammial, faintly.

Yes, well. That too. But if you want, I can always drop by, Sammial. And Im not leaving right away.

The hang glider sat there as she adjusted her clothing again and took a breath. Sammial stared at it.

Are you going to use that thing again? You said youd crash like a bug if you did.

Indeed, Jericha was eying Ryoka as if she was insane. The Wind Runners first flight during the run to House Veltras had nearly killed Ryoka. The Wind Runner shuddered at the memory.

But not all had been for naught.

-

The Hobgoblin [Bard] saw Ulvama coming up the hill again. She had more clothing on, but his eyes flashed and his hand shifted on the blade.

If she tried to touch him again, she would lose her hand. He was on the edge of all things. Numbtongue wanted to kill something. He wanted the simplicity of violence.

He looked at her with murderous intent. But Ulvama was walking up the hill, aiming past him. She was headed

Up. And she did not deserve to be there. She had not been there. Numbtongue growled. He would not have her defiling Erins resting place. Never mind that she was a Goblin and had not known her. He was in no mood to be reasonable.

He stood, stumbling a bit as his frozen muscles complained. Ulvama halted a secondthen hurried left.

Stop.

Numbtongue stumbled after her. But a figure blocked his way.

A white Gnoll. He snarled at Mrsha. She flinchedbut a bee buzzed past Numbtongues face warningly. He swatted at Apista.

Out of the way!

He was going to

A sound crossed the garden. A menacing sound, so rare here.

Thump thump slap. Thump thump slap.

Numbtongues head turned. He stared.

Beaver gang. The Fortress Beavers marched up the hill, slapping their tails. He raised his sword, but couldnt swing itthey bowled him over. The weakened, hungry [Bard] rolled

And they sat on him. Mrsha patted Numbtongues head and showed him a card. He stared at it.

What?

Ulvama was heading up the hill. Towards the frozen bier, and the young woman.

She stopped when she saw Erin Solstice.

Ah.

That was all. The [Shaman] saw the crossbow bolts, the blood; it did not take a genius to see what had happened. She looked at the faint smile and shook her head.

For a moment she bowed her head. And if Numbtongue had feared shed be disrespectfulUlvama bent and felt the permanent cold, eying the runes of power, the altar of gifts.

Good place to chill drinks.

She commented to Mrsha. The Gnoll gave her a warning look. The Hobgoblin shrugged. She felt little sadness. A bit, but

She is not dead.

She patted Mrsha on the head. The little Gnoll looked up at Ulvama, longingly, hoping it to be true. Ulvama bent, studying the young woman. And at last, she nodded.

Yes. I see it now. She is the one. Why it feels safe here.

[Natural Ally: Goblins].

No killing Goblins.

It had begun here. With a young woman, long before the fire. With an inn. Mrshas eyes filled with tears. She wanted to go to Erin and hug her. But it was so cold. And the fire

Ulvama studied Erin Solstice. Then, slowly, the [Shaman] bent down. She halted at the magical barrier. Then, reached past it.

She touched Erins hand. Justtouched. Numbtongue made a sound. He knocked the beavers off him, struggled up the hill. Ulvama closed her eyes. She held up her claw as he shouted, lifting his sword.

And she was holding the fire.

Numbtongue stopped, sword in hand. He stared at the burning flame, in Ulvamas palm. Mrshas eyes opened wide.

It was tiny at first, a spark, nothing more. But it grew, dancing, as Ulvama focused on it. The [Shaman] bit her lip as the flame grew. Then she held it out.

There.

She looked at Mrsha. Numbtongue swayed, incredulous. Uncomprehending.

How?

The [Shaman] looked at him. She smiled. And the flame grew as she handed it down. To Mrsha. To Numbtongue, who clasped at it, his eyes wide.

It burned in the gaze of the beavers. Over the frozen young woman.

The Worker, who had to come to say farewell, fell to his knees. Rose, Selys, and Ishkr all halted.

Look at it. There it burned. That beautiful flame, made of so many at once. It changed as Numbtongue and Mrsha held it.

Hope. It burned like brilliant blue. In Ulvamas claws it was different.

Kindness. Which was red like a rose, crossed with gentle orange. Soft and marvelous.

How?

That was all the [Bard] asked. He held it, the last gift he had thought lost. Hope. He looked at Ulvama. She smiled, and this is what she said.

Silly Goblin. When the fire goes away, you light it again.

The flame grew.

-

I didnt get what I wanted. Not all of it, Sammial. And Ive got a lot to do.

Ryoka spoke to him as she adjusted the straps and harness. The others were backing up. He looked at her. The City Runner lookedworn. Sad.

But not empty of resolve. She glanced up at the sky, her lips moving upwards as she looked at him out of the corner of her eye.

But you got something.

Yes.

He meant the secret artifact. But Ryoka meant something else. She sighed.

The strangerstheyre friends of a sort. And they couldnt help me in the end. But they didnt leave me with nothing. They gave me some things. Andwell, they told me what I might need to do. Where I might need to go. But they gave me one more thing. Hah. Three and three again. A trinity.

What, exactly?

Jericha looked at Ryoka. The wind was picking up. Across Riverfarm, people were working, the nobles riding in the distance. The [Witches] at their craft. Ryoka Griffins hair blew in the breeze.

They gave me gifts, and knowledge. And one more thing. Can you guess what it is?

She looked at Hethon. He shook his head blankly. Sammial bit his tongue.

Is itis itI dont know. What is it?

The Wind Runner looked at him. And her green eyes sparkled. She looked happy for the first time since the Solstice had ended. She glanced up. Then grinned.

They taught me how to fly.

She leapt, and the air pulled her into the sky. Sammials mouth opened wide. He waited for her to come down.

But she never did. The wind caught the glider as it leapt upwards. Ryoka was blown upwards in a second. She clung to the bar and everyone gasped. They waited for the wind to hurl her

Ryoka twisted in the air and flew higher. Then she dove. She skimmed over the tops of Riverfarms roofs. Then turned. Sammial realized it first as she did a U-turn and came back the way shed come towards him.

Shes really flying! Look! Shes really

Jericha, Hethon, and the others looked at him without understanding. Then they saw what he meant. Ryoka dippedand flashed right over the heads of the crowd who ducked. She winked at Sammial and then the updraft carried her into the air once more.

This wasnt following the wind. She wasSammials mouth opened wider, widersuch that even Apista could have buzzed in and out. He saw Ryoka accelerating. Faster.

The Wind Runner was flying.

-

The group of nobles on horseback were enjoying a leisurely hunt, which did not suit the ones who had actually come to hunt.

Lord Tyrion kept riding ahead with Gralton, rather than socializing. Pellmia alternated between social graces and spirited riding. Typically, Pryde was in the move fast group and seemed to want to make it a competition who could bag the better game.

Bethal was taking her leisure and chattering away with Wuvren. Lord Tyrion was grinding his teeth. He longed to be riding. Hed had a ride this morning, but with Lord Pellmia. And no disrespect to the other [Lord], a good campaigner and fighter and [Lord], but no one could keep up with Tyrion in the saddle.

It was the freedom to ride that Lord Tyrion sought in his morning rituals. Since it had been denied him, he was grumpy.

His head was turning impatiently, for a Corusdeer or other quarry he could use to take off after. Thushe was the first one to see the speck in the air heading their way.

It was coming from Riverfarm. For a second he thought it was one of the kites that Emperor Godart had shown the children how to make. But then he did a double-take.

Tyrion? What is it?

Bethal called out as the [Lord] changed course abruptly. The [Lord] didnt answer. Bethal turned and gasped.

Is thatRyoka?

The Wind Runner was flying out of Riverfarm. She crossed the river, and Bethals eyes picked out the young woman. She was lying against the triangularthing that was flying through the air! She had seen it in the famous run. But now she saw it again.

A hang glider. Each piece hand-woven with the most secure threads by the best Skills and hands in Riverfarm. The frame likewise designed by the [Engineers] and [Carpenters]. Even mildly enchanted thanks to Lady Ries [Mage].

It was not Kevins tuned-up bike. And it didnt need to be. All it had to do was provide a surface.

The wind did the rest. Ryoka saw the ground passing below her in a blur and slowly at the same time; she stared before keeping her eyes ahead. She saw the hunting party as she covered the ground in a minute.

Ryoka! Ryoka, wait up! How are you doing that?

Charlay charged across the bridge, shouting up at the sky. The Centaur was slower than Ryoka! Panting, she saw Ryoka angle the glider and turn.

The slight move sent Ryoka down and around towards the ground fast. Tyrion heard a curse and winced as he saw the glider dive; she was too low to the ground! But before the Wind Runner could crash, a gust suddenly righted her. She soared on, gaining altitude.

My word! I think shes controlling the wind! Could she do that last time?

Lord Pellmia blinked. The hunting party came to a halt. Ryoka Griffin soared past them, dipping again. She was only twenty feet off the ground nowand movingfaster

Flying. The wind was at her back. Thisthis was what Ryoka Griffin had always imagined. The wind was blowing, not just propelling her forwards, but an updraft keeping her from diving. Faster.

She skimmed across the ground, turning, arcing, racing past the riders and people on horseback. The nobility were all staring. Their swift horses and Skillseven the Centaur Runner couldnt keep up. And they all belonged to the land. Ryoka was in the air.

Lord Pellmia jerked as someone ran into him. Both Lord Ranga and his son were gawking and had collided their horses with his. For that mattertheir horses were staring too.

Ryoka was already threatening to cross into the forest leading up to the Goblinlands. A Cave Goblin sitting in one of the watch towers and having a snack sprayed his cup of water as he saw her flying past him. Ryoka waved.

The glider turned, swinging left. Ryoka was laughinga touch manically. It was sosonatural!

They had given her wings. The fae. That was what Ivolethe had given her.

Flying lessons.

After all, no one was good at something the first time. And learning how to skydive or hang glide orthe air was unforgiving. But Ryoka had known flight in the land of the fae. And she remembered.

The wind was also different. Ryoka twisted the glider, soaring down. She soared along the ground, as fast as a bird! And she was laughing.

I can fly!

The wind snatched away her voice. Ryoka felt the wind rippling at her clothes, and it was getting chilly despite the summer heat. Butshe flew higher again, seeing the world drop away and become small.

It did not bring Erin back. Nor was the sky safe from danger. Plus, she needed goggles or a stray bug would put out her eye.

But look. Ryoka laughed and laughed. She was free.

And she was not the only one laughing. The Wind Runner raced across the ground, and only realized she had a tail when she heard his voice.

Lord Tyrion. Charlay was trying to keep pace, but she gave up after less than a mile. But someone was following her, leaping a stream, urging his horse onwards. Ryoka stared down.

He was laughing as he raced after her. Racing the wind. Andkeeping pace. She saw him raise a hand, grinning like a boy. She waved.

Then nearly hit a flying squadron of geese. They honked in alarm. Ryoka wobbled and swore. A feather smacked her in the face and the quill actually cut her cheek!

Are you alright, Wind Runner?

Tyrion saw the incident. Ryoka swooped lower, shouting.

I need goggles!

Why?

He looked mystified. Ryoka opened her mouth and saw Tyrion suffer the same fate as she had nearly a second ago. His horses hoof kicked up a stray pebble and it shot towards his face.

Then bounced off a field. The protective spell. She pointed.

I need that!

Ah!

He nodded, smiling faintly. Ryoka turned.

One more thing, then! Im going up!

She shot into the air. Highershe was up a hundred feet above the ground in moments and climbing higher. Tyrion slowed and shaded his eyes.

What was she doing now? Ryoka was breathing harder. But she was excited.

Ivolethe had given her the blessing of the fae. And moreher hand fumbled for two objects on her belt. A glass bottle and

The hilt. Ryoka bared her teeth as Riverfarm became a dot below her. Tyrion saw her stall out in the air, coming to a dead stop as the momentum of the glider met gravity.

Thats

Ryoka gripped the Faeblade. It ignited. She took a breath as gravity began to pull her and the glider down.

Here we go.

She had been terrified of the hurricane that had dragged her into the sky. A terrible, careless force of nature that could not be controlled. But now, she knew the trick of tricks. The wind was her friend. And more than that?

She swung the Faeblade and touched itthe harness straps parted like tearing paper.

The glider came away. Lord Tyrion shouted. So did everyone watching. Ryoka saw the glider separate. And nowshe was free falling.

The young woman was dropping out of the sky. Jericha grabbed a horse and aimed her wand frantically at the targetbut it was a million-to-one shot even if her spell had range

Then she saw Ryokas downward momentumshift. The [High Mage] stared.

What the

The wind caught Ryoka as she dropped. It yanked at her clothes. And it found purchase. Loose fabricand the stupid suit Sammial had observed inflated, creating drag, and a kind of wings

The nobles and people of this earth had no reference for this. If they could understand the glider, this was nonsensical. Even Laken Godart, listening to Gamel and Durene shout commentary, had to think. Then he started laughing.

Wingsuit.

Ryoka Griffin had done crazy things. But even she had not ever gone wingsuit surfing. That was a special kind of crazy. A special kind of dangerous.

Even skydiving was really only pulling a chute at the right moment. This? Wingsuits let you fly or glide at extreme speed. One wrong move and you could go splat.

But she had the wind on her side.

Ryoka dove, as Lord Tyrion galloped after her. The glider was carried by the current of air, to land in the forest where the Goblins would retrieve it for study before it was recovered.

But Ryoka sped on. The wind was doing its own thing above her; the breeze that high was blowing north steadily. Ryoka raced perpendicular to it, in the wingsuit, carrying her back towards Riverfarm, above the fields where the [Farmers] stopped and stared.

The wind ignored her, but something still carried her down. A powerful gust that belonged only to her.

What the f

Ryoka blew past Alevica. The [Witch] twisted to catch her and was nearly blown away. There was a wind surrounding Ryoka!

She was her own breeze! Ryoka felt the magic burning in her veins. That was it! The final clue. She laughed as she felt her magic exhausting itself to keep her going.

She landed just past the fields, turning, slowingand at the last moment a mighty updraft totally stopped her momentum. Ryoka hoveredthen dropped.

The Wind Runner was panting. Both physically and mentallyand magicallydrained from the flight. But she was grinning like a madwoman.

Lord Tyrion was the first to arrive, then Alevica, who had lost her hat. Charlay, the nobilityRyoka was trying to speak.

Itthat waswhered my glider go?

The forest. I saw it land. That was insane! Ryoka! Youre flying! Youre practically a Garuda! Thats not fair! Im supposed to be the faster one!

Charlay swept her up into a hug. Ryoka felt the Centauress squeezing. She laughed.

That wasintense. I should have had goggles. Or an amulet.

We thought you were mad when you cut yourself loose of the glider!

I knew what would happen. Or I thought so. And I had insurance.

Insurance?

Tyrion raised an eyebrow. Ryoka showed him the second object in her grip; shed put away the Faeblade.

A bottle. A Potion of Slow Fall, in addition to Hedaults crash-ring. His eyes flickered and he nodded.

Wise.

The Wind Runner nodded to him. Then Charlay hugged her again until Ryoka squeaked and asked to be let go. Then everyone wanted to know what the Wingsuit wasand Hethon and Sammial were already begging to try, which neither Ryoka nor Jericha would countenance.

Bethal wanted to try too, which her husband shot down, and Ryoka had to tell people about the dangers of non-wind hang-glidingbut admit it was a possibility. Pebblesnatchs mouth opened wide as she peeked out of the forest.

Word spread. Wellwho cared about word spreading? The nobles here had seen it! The Wind Runner had built her own wings!

She was a flying Courier.

-

The fire burned. Ulvama saw Numbtongue sitting with it.

In the inn. He held it in one palm. And he was drinkingwater. Eating.

Light had returned to the inn. It was small, but Mrsha had put it on her head. Selys was fussing

Does it hurt? Is it burning your fur?

The Gnoll looked cross-eyed at the flame burning on her head and giggled. She laughed, and it was a good sound to hear. Ulvama smiled.

Fire could not solve all the worlds problems. It usually added to them. But this was a special flame. It was beautiful, glorious, sad, humble, and powerful all at once.

Ishkr cupped a tiny flame in his paws. It might go out. It might be extinguished. And so what?

Light it again! However many times it took.

Until she came back.

Bird sat with the flame burning on the table in front of him. It began to go outuntil he scooped it up. Only then did the flame brighten. This fire could not exist without someone holding it. He looked at it, trembling. Rose and Selys watched him out of the corner of their eyes.

After a long time, the Worker whispered.

I miss my Fortress of Fluff. I wish I had not cut Miss Bevussas feather up, now.

Well help you get it back, Bird.

Selys would toss gold at people if it meant getting back his possessions. Beat them to death with sacks of it. She went to Bird. He held the flame. And the vengeance against Hectval seemed less important than this.

Fire and memory. They would carry word of it. Carry the flame. It was not yet lost. It was a sign, a symbol.

As much as anything else. Anything could be a sign. But this? This was good.

The door to The Wandering Inn opened as the light came back. The first visitors in a long time came, bearing a flower to tell Rose that she was the lucky pick theyd settled on. If she was willing to make a commitment, that was.

And Mrsha looked at Ulvama and decided she was okay. The Hobgoblin contently sipped from the alcohol collection shed finally discovered at the back of the barshed never actually seen a bar in her life before.

This inn was better than she thought!

-

I relax afterwards. I meant what I told Sammial. There are always consequences.

For instanceI may have introduced hang-gliding to this world and thus upped aviated deaths by an uncountable number. But you know what? To hell with it.

There are people from Earth here. And I need to fly. I have a sword from another time and reality and even if magic can destroy it, I can use it.

I will use it. Every tool and means I have. Teriarch. My head is spinning.

I just received word from him. From Grand Magus Eldavin, rather. Whos atWistram Academy?

Holy fuck. Unholy fuck. Why am I swearing? I have to send him a reply. Does he want an autograph by the King of Chivalry himself, in triplicate? Does he want a super-sword? Please.

Oh, please.

And if that doesnt work? If he refuses? Wellits probably still a bit more dangerous to raid a Dragons hoard. But Ill risk it. Whatever I need to do, I will.

Halrac just told me Griffon Hunt is taking a leave of absence from Riverfarm, despite their contract. The Horns of Hammerad have sent out a call.

We will not let Erin stay dead. So, my heart is lighter even as I talk with Lord Tyrion. For some reason, he seems to still tolerate me. Maybe because of the kids. Maybe thats a way to persuade him. No one else seems willing to really treat Sammial like they should.

And Ill be a Courier. Ill do what it takes. I can move across Izril now. Even if I need to learn the air. Even if I can still run out of mana. But Ryoka is flying your deliveries now.

Am I going to get out of shape? Well, running is still useful, especially during rain.

All of this is in my future. I am not afraid of it. But before thatthe scroll. Perhaps Teriarch can help. Perhaps the Horns or someone else. But if I believe the fae, maybe this is the best and most likely solution. Ivolethe always said it was if, not when. Maybe I have no chance and the answer is some other way.

But I know where it is. I know where something that can help Erin lies. I only must get to it.

If only it was easy. If only it was convenient, like challenging Lady Pryde to a cage match. Because I knew that vault. Ive seen that symbol on the news. A famous place.

Hells, hells, hells. Its not even close by. Even for a flier. Butwell

Ailendamus.

How the heck am I going to get in there?

Authors Note: I need help. Is there a group for authors who cant write under 25,000 words?

And this is even longer than the last three chapters.

But I had fun writing the last parts of it. And with thiswe may be caught up in most of the central plotlines. Not that weve been stagnant, but the opening of a volume or book in a series does need recap.

Does everyone remember Ailendamus? Ah, well, here we go. Flying and technological swords (Im accepting better names than Faeblade or Techblade, by the way), and more.

Hope you enjoy! Theres only actually 1-2 more chapters before my monthly breakbut the poll chapter will be one of them! See you next time and hope you enjoyed this one! Thanks for reading!

Belavierrs Deal by Brack, Commissioned by /brack

Fire, Selys, Tyrion, and Pisces by Tomeo! (Pisces made with Picrew Image Maker.)

Erins Fire, Backpage, Cat Revi, and more by /anito