Book 9: Chapter 18: E

Book 9: Chapter 18: E

For the daughter of a legend, Wiskerias eyes were too normal. They were yellow and green, the two colors separate, not some blend of the two, and quite resembled a plain field of grass and daffodils on a sunlit day in nature.

Compared to her mothers gazewell, all Erin Solstice knew were stories. Numbtongue had described them like black rings in an orange glow, narrowing and narrowing towards the pupils without ever ending. Not that hed gotten a good look at her up close.

Mrsha had all of Lyonettes flowery prose, and she had stared down Belavierr longer than most beings in the entire world. She had written that Belavierrs eyes, instilled nothing so much as a grand fear within my soul, for I knew there were multitudes looking back at me, and I knew not whence they came and feared to find out.

Erin, for her part, feared that Mrsha was becoming an old man in her writing style. But the image that had stuck with her most was actually Kevins. He had the misfortune of surviving Belavierr, and while she had not declared him a personal enemy, nor had he seen her up close, he had told Erin this:

It felt like I was looking straight into the layers of hell. From Dantes Inferno, you know that story? It looked like that.

All in all, Belavierrs mere gaze seemed like a suitable representation of the Witch of Webs, the greatest living [Witch] in this world. Wiskeria, though, was her daughter of twenty some years. She was the failure who did not encapsulate Belavierrs dark myth, for better or for worse. She was the ordinary witch, the [General] of Riverfarm, so not that ordinary

But she was Belavierrs daughter, and the product of her mother raising her was everywhere about her if you looked. A [Witch] pretending to be normal without ever recognizing it. But she did try, and of all the [Witches] that Erin had met so far, she alone did not prod or poke Erin to become something.

That was why Erin liked her. And that was why, at the wee hours of dawn, Wiskeria and Erin met to begin her lessons in witchcraft.

This was, of course, before the announcement that Terandria was going to settle Izrils new lands or the Yoldenites broadcast. Five days before that, to be exact. This was the day after the old man in the river had been unleashed and then pushed back to his resting place. Erin still felt ashamed and unsettledbut she wanted to learn.

Just not from Eloise, Hedag, Mavika, Agratha, Oliyaya, or any of the others. Anyways, Erin was nervous, and she had woken up and eaten her magical bisque extra early so that she could even get out of bed.

Is this the witching hour? No, wait, thats even earlier, right? Should we have gotten up then?

She joked around. Wiskeria gave Erin a blank stare, which did not seem to be amused.

Unusually, Wiskeria seemed like shed gotten less than adequate sleep, and she was a bit ruffled. She replied as she checked her hat and straightened her robes, both deep blue.

You agreed to learn from me, Erin. Which means you do this my way. Ask all the questions you want, but when I tell you to do somethingdo it. If I think youre not trying, Ill stop and well part ways.

Erin hesitated. Her desired response was to be a bit funny. But it occurred to her that this was Wiskeria.

Belavierrs daughter. And if Erin had learned nothing else from the ghosts of great [Witches]she stuck a hand up in the air.

Wiskeria stared at it.

What are you doing?

Question?

Just ask it, then.

Okay. Erin took a breath and raised her fingers in air-quotes.

By part ways, do you mean that if I screw up, youll just stop teaching me?

Yes.

Do I get second chances?

Wiskeria looked confused.

Why would you? No. Is that normal to?

A note of uncertainty entered her voice, but she caught herself and shook her head.

No, maybe it is. But not for witchcraft. I wont come after you or curse you or do anything else. Well just stop if I think I cant teach you or youre not trying. No second chances. Were done.

For how long?

An exasperated tone entered Wiskerias voice.

Forever. Until the last Giants die. Until the marrow of the earth rots. Until time expires. I didnt think I needed to explain that.

Erin shrugged helplessly, but she felt a strange tingling in her stomach. Anticipation, perhaps. Nerves, as well aswell, Wiskeria didnt understand why Erin smiled.

I just wanted to make sure.

Witches played for keeps. That was the true element of Wiskerias nature hidden behind her facade. When she said done, she meant it. If she threatened to hurt youshe meant it.

Wiskeria rubbed at her eyes and yawned. She gazed at Erin as they stood just outside Wiskerias home on the edge of Riverfarm, far enough out that their voices wouldnt wake the regular citizens.

Im sorry. Perhaps Im just tired. Poor sleep. I was up all night chasing a screaming mouse or something.

Areare those normal around here?

Who knows? It doesnt matterseeing me when Im not at my best will teach you how a [Witch] lives. Which is the point. You need lessons in what being a [Witch] means. You need a hat and to find your craft. Three problems. SoI am going to teach you like my mother taught me. Now

Wiskeria broke off and closed her eyes for a second. She stared at Erin waving her hands urgently, because the [Innkeeper] had some instant reservations.

Um. Exactly like your mother taught you?

Erin didnt think she wanted to become Belavierr 2.0. However, Wiskeria just shook her head.

Growing up as Belavierrs daughter isnt the same as learning witchcraft from her. Its all I know. Now, well pretend youre learning the basics. Follow me.

Thus began Erins lessons with Wiskeria. It would be a lie to say she wasnt concerned about it all. She had messed up big with the Water Elemental, but Wiskeria was possibly the most concerning teacher out of everyone in Riverfarm she could have asked.

Belavierrs daughter. Like it or not, that was a reputation that concerned even Erin herself.

Let alone Mrsha, half-snoozing as she spied on the two from the corner of a house. Lyonette was yawning and holding Mrsha in her arms. Joining them was Numbtongue, wearing only pants, and Ulvama.

Not all in the same corner, even. Lyonette saw Numbtongue waving at her and pointing at Wiskeria. She made a face and shrugged as Mrsha sleepily frowned at Wiskeria.

None of Erins family and allies were exactly sure if this was a good idea. Nor, it seemed, was anyone else. Lyonette realized there was a hatted woman standing in the shadow of another roof and jumped as she saw Hedag, the massive woman with the axe and brown robes, silent as a statue.

Then Mrsha froze, sniffed the air, and looked up, and Numbtongue nearly drew his sword when he glanced up and saw Mavika perching on a roofs ledge overhead. Both [Witches] glanced at Erins group. Then they pointedly looked at Gamel, trying to hide behind a wheelbarrow. Ulvama stared hard at Mavika, who ignored her completely. In silence, the groups eyed each other as Erin started her day.

Wiskeria asked Erin to copy her routine. She spoke as she worked, but not as much as Erin thought. The [Innkeeper] would learn by doing, so she ended up following Wiskerias morning routine.

The first thing they did was brush their teeth. Then, Wiskeria stretched for eight minutes, mostly her hands and ankles, though she had a few familiar arm and leg exercises. After that, she found two pieces of bread and toasted them over a fire she started from a candle, not any magic. She offered Erin butter and some jam.

When they started sweeping Wiskerias house, Erin had to say something.

Um. Wiskeria. How long are we sweeping?

She had been very patient. She had done the morning stuff, but the sweeping felt extraneous. Especially after eighteen minutes of methodically sweeping every part of Wiskerias pretty clean floors. They were in the living room when Wiskeria raised her head, as if shed forgotten Erin were there.

Hm? Until its clean.

She gestured at the kitchen and other rooms in the home shed been allotted. Erin hesitated.

Is this part of the lessons?

Yes.

Ah, got it, got it. So this isnt just part of your daily thing?

No, I meant to give the house a good cleaning. But this is an excellent lesson. Have you learned anything yet?

Wiskeria glanced at Erin and couldnt read Erins face. Anyone else in the world could haveErin bit her tongue. Wiskeria just went back to sweeping. She did no magic. She didnt even have an interesting sweeping form; Silveran would have called her passable, but it wasnt like Wiskeria was even that good at cleaning. She wasnt fast; she moved much like someone doing a chore did. Slowly, without wasting energy or trying to get the job done quickly.

Now, Erin had started as an [Innkeeper] by cleaning her inn. She knew cleaning. She hired Ishkr to clean because there were other things she could do with her day.

In fact, she began to speed up and used [Advanced Cleaning] to hurry the process along. Even that low-grade Skill was being used by a Level 40 [Innkeeper], so, to Erins delight, she saw that each pass of the broom carried all the dust and grit out in a huge sweep across the floor. She barely needed to move around chairs or lift things up; it was as if a magnetic force were sucking around them with the bristles of her broom.

Great! Erin guessed she might clean this entire room in, like, eighteen sweeps, and shed already done nine when Wiskeria grabbed her broom handle with a huge frown.

Stop that. No Skills. And stop rushing.

Erin looked up. Wiskeria was methodically crouching to dust under the cupboards with a short-handled broom. At this instruction, Erin bit her lip.

Alright. Question time, Wiskeria?

Go on.

Erin waved her hands at the broom and cleaning.

Is thisa metaphor? Or a hidden lesson? Because Ill definitely do this if it turns out Im training and I eventually learn how to sweep up a dust storm from practicing this. But if its a metaphor, I dont get it. Am I waxing on or off or just sweeping?

At this point, Wiskerias face suggested that she understood the problems every other [Witch] had had so far with Erin. She took a breath.

If I told you, it would defeat the purpose of figuring it out.

Ah, so there is a lesson! Yoda-style. Got it, got it. But do you do hints?

No. And my mother made me do this every morning wherever we stayed. This is teaching you.

Wiskeria waited, but Erin just nodded and, now not using her Skills, went back to sweeping. She swept for twenty more minutes with Wiskeria, even moved a table so they could properly and mundanely sweep. All the while, she watched Wiskeria, stretched her magical, mundane, and aura senses for a hint of anything unusual, but Wiskeria was just focused.

If there were something to learn, Erin didnt get it, but she did dutifully follow instructions. She knew there was something to learn. She just hoped it wasnt one of those boring lessons about interconnectedness or humility. She had never, ever heard the other old [Witches] of yore talking about brooms except to tell Erin that there were better ways to fly.

After that, Wiskeria looked outside and saw the sun finally rise. It seemed too early to Erin, but the High Passes werent blocking the sun, so it was coming up fast, even for autumn. Wiskeria led Erin outside, and they began their day with an audience with Laken Godart.

Im not angry, Erin. I understand these things happen. The river is alive? Well, Wiskeria, Witches, what do you think?

Prepare for the worst, hope for the best. You should raise the embankments around the river and the bridge. Tell children to be careful when playing in the water. All the sensible things an [Emperor] should do. No more, for now.

Witch Eloise and Hedag were present in the throne room as Laken discussed yesterdays debacle with Erin. The [Innkeeper] fidgeted. Laken turned his head, eyes closed, to each person, and that was slightly uncanny. She spoke up as Wiskeria nodded along.

Ill take responsibility if something happens. I really didnt mean to. Is Cade alright? Was anyone else hurt?

Briganda had accepted her apology stiffly, and apologized in turn for decking Erin. Laken shook his head.

No one is hurt. Were just discussing how to make sure no one else is in danger. Once again, Im not blaming you, Erin.

Well, maybe Im blaming myself! You can be mad at me. I can take it. Or pay forbridge raising.

Erin saw his eyebrows rise, and she turned redder. The [Emperor] just chuckled, then looked sideways at Lady Rie for a moment as if hed sensed something she couldnt see. The oddlyaliveLady Rie, looking faintly flushed with energy, also made Erin feel slightly disconcerted. Heck, all of Riverfarm wasnt what she expected, even the Goblins who seemed almost content. Happy?

Laken, for his part, just turned back to Erin.

There is no need, Erin, I assure you. In fact, I was just reminded that Ryoka herself arrived when Riverfarm was in danger of being burnt by Drake saboteursand there was a tornado, though that was a helpful event. Largely. Tell mehow many of our friends from home are there?

Erin jumped at hearing that, but no one else in the room did. She did notice that Wiskeria, Eloise, Hedag, and Rie all looked very interested. Prost and Gamel just waited, either content in not knowing everything or already knowing what Laken was referring to.

But he was open about the secret. Odd. Erin hesitated.

One, two, threeInkaruh, at least six? And lots more elsewhere. I could ask if they want to visit later. Why? I bet Kevin would, at least. He could bring you a bike.

Laken grinned.

I would love that. Truly. Well, the invitation stands whenever they would like. I just mention it becauseMister Prost? We had better make sure all our homes are earthquake-proof. Possibly typhoon-safe as well.

Erin heard a huge snort of laughter from behind Laken, and Durene, the [Paladin], covered her mouth. Maybe it was a yawn; shed come back late this morning with the Thronebearers who had run, killed a hundred undead, and run back before levelling up. All of them.

Erins mouth fell open, and she realized he was making fun of her! The [Emperor] smiled, and that was that.

Was that [Witch]-y? Or did I mess up in there?

Erin and Wiskeria walked out of the throneroom, and Wiskeria raised her brows.

That was an audience with an [Emperor]. Not part of my lessons. My mother did not make a habit ofwell, my encounters were different, and that wasnt what I wanted to teach you. But I was watching you and seeing what you need to learn.

Oh, come on. How was that bad?

Wiskeria tilted her head as she nodded at people in Riverfarm she knewwhich was practically everyone. She glanced over her shoulder and glared. Erin turned her head and saw a pack of six Sariant Lambs hiding behind a parked wagon wheel. She raised her brows, and Wiskeria shook her head.

Were not allowed to kick them. Anyways, moving onthere are certain qualities that are [Witch]-like. Im sure the ghosts taught you some of that. Youre very good at pretending, but not good at being certain. How would another [Witch] describe it? Youre good at making other people think what you want them to think, but not much good at being it yourself. There, that sounds suitably confusing.

Erin thought so too. She frowned, but Califor had said something like that.

How am I good at pretending?

This time, Wiskeria actually gave Erin a narked look. Her annoyance didnt abate at Erins confused stare.

Youre doing it to me right now.

No, Im not.

Yes, you are. Youre pretending to be confused when youre only half-confused. You play the [Innkeeper] very well, I can tell.

But I am an [Innkeeper].

Erin protested, but she did have an inkling of what Wiskeria meant. The other [Witch] took a deep breath.

Yes, but you lean into her more than you have to. Im sure a lot of your guests think youre asasscattered as you pretend. Or as innocent. Or as confused. Eccentric.

I prefer zany.

Erin felt highly uncomfortable at having her methods seen through so fast. She realizedall the other [Witches] had probably seen exactly what Wiskeria had. Even Grimalkin had fallen for it at first, the old Erin approach. But as Wiskeria explained

Thats pure witchcraft, Erin. No wonder Califor thought you had potential. Every [Witch] pretends. Even if they are. No, dont ask a question, you understand. Mavika always pretends to be Mavika. Yes, shes probably like that, but look

They passed by an open square, and Erin saw the Crow Witch sitting in the center. Laken had ordered a small tree to be relocated to the center of the square as a kind of ornamental piece. Right now, it was festooned with cawing crows, their beady eyes staring at the people who avoided the lone woman sitting with crows flapping their wings and eating from one hand.

That was a look. If Erin had seen that on Earth, she would have immediately bought every good-luck charm she could find. Wiskeria nodded to Mavika.

Shes not lyingwell, not right nowbut shes being extra her. Do you sense her pulling in their emotions?

Erin did. Mavika was lightly drawing some of the nervousness or fear into her. Like someone skimming the cream off a vat of milka gentle, even elegant pull that fed her craft. But it wasnt fear she wanted, no. It was more like

Superstition?

Erin glanced at Wiskeria, and she got her first smile of the day. Then Erin saw Mavika more clearly.

If you assumed Mavika lived off fear orcrow-stuff, you only understood part of her craft. But she was a [Witch]. A [Witch] of [Witches]; she was the literal [Witch] in peoples imaginations. And because they thought that and she confirmed it, she could do what they believed.

That was the kind of [Witch]-logic that hurt your head, but it was a valuable lesson. Wiskeria nodded to Mavika, and both women tipped their hats. Mavika stared pointedly at Erin, and the [Innkeeper] flapped her apron at her.

Five crows took flight and chased the two young women for two streets. When they finally flew away, Wiskeria glared at Erin.

You pretend as well as Mavika. But youre not certain.

Im certainly upset about that! Rude! I was just being funny.

Erin pointed back at Mavika. Wiskeria eyed her.

Youyou knew she wouldnt appreciate that. Do you have to joke about everything? Listen. This is easy. Youre not certain. You waver, youre notyou pretend to be an [Innkeeper], but I dont think you are one. Mavika pretends and is herself or whomever she wants to be. She could be a charming [Courtesan] if she had to.

Erin could literally not imagine that. She put her hands on her hips.

Okay. Maybe, sometimes, I get a bitnervous about the future. Yeah. But I have stressful things to worry about! I dither. So what?

So learn to fix it.

The young woman waved a hand.

Do I have to? Is that a requirement for being a [Witch] or can we just say Im working on it?

It was incredible. ReallyWiskeria, the normal [Witch], looked like she was more peeved after three hours in Erins company than she had been fighting a war against Goblins and dealing with the nobility at the Summer Solstice party. The questions, the backchatthe jokesshe took a deep breath and looked Erin in the eye.

Before I answer that, I have a question. Erin, how did the [Witches] in the lands of the dead deal with you when you annoyed them?

Erin bit her tongue. She didnt want to say, how did you know? Instead, she scuffed a foot on the ground innocently.

They might have made me go talk to other ghosts. Or said reallyand I mean reallyhurtful stuff.

To her surprise, Wiskerias mouth opened, and the [Witch of Law] snapped her fingers.

Thats so odd. It must have been because they were ghosts. Otherwise theyd have showed you that.

She pointed, and Erin looked around.

What?

Wiskeria smacked the back of Erins head so hard Erin staggered. When the outraged [Innkeeper] turned around, she threw a punch. Wiskeria kicked her right under her kneecap, and Erin swore. She raised a fist, and Wiskeria grabbed a passing mallet out of a [Builder]s cart as they set up to build another house.

Whoa, whoa! What are you doing?

Escalating. If you hit me, Ill hit you harder.

Wiskeria stared pointedly at Erins knife. The [Innkeeper] innocently let go of the handle.

That hurt!

Good. It was meant to. Here you are.

Wiskeria handed the hammer back and nodded to Beycalt, the [Construction Supervisor] of Riverfarm.

Everything alright, Witch Wiskeria?

Just teaching our guests a lesson.

Beycalt grinned as Erin rubbed at her knee and the back of her head. She debated punching Wiskeria in the shoulder and saw the [Witch] glance at her. Erin uncurled the fingers of her fist.

Califor wouldnt have done that.

Wiskeria raised her eyebrows, looking amused again.

Not twice. Now, are you going to be serious?

Her only response was a long exhalation from Erin, and then the [Innkeeper] snapped back.

Alright. Fine. Im not certain about things. So how do I fix it? I dont like making mistakes, and I have. I hada helper I mistreated. Toren. I got a friend killed, even if he came back. People die when I make mistakes.

Fine, but be certain when you commit. Dither too long or while youre doing something and fail. You know that.

Erins stomach clenched. She didnt like talking about it, but Wiskeria seemed to understand her dilemmas. Erin whispered.

What if Im wrong?

Her reply was Wiskeria raising her eyebrows and giving her a calm smile.

Then youll be certain you made a mistake. Listen, you know this doesnt mean certainty about everything. Justwhat are you certain about? What do you know very, very well? We should find your craft and make that hat, so this is a great place to begin.

Erin stood there, rubbing her head, and the answer was actually easy. She took a breath.

Goblins. And chess.

If there were any two things in this world that defined her and that she was certain aboutWiskeria didnt scoff, she just nodded, pleased.

Well then. Thats excellent, you know. I had to search for a long time to find out what I was certain about. Thatll be the basis of everything you do and how you decide things. Im sure it is.

Yeah.

Erin felt calmer when she said that. She began walking on, and then she realized one of the crows who attacked her was flying from perch to perch. She glanced over her shoulder, and Agratha stood behind one of the nighttime lantern-poles that Laken had ordered built. She was actually almost invisible despite being too wide to hide; a mundane little illusion spell kept her hidden.

But Erin and Wiskeria still noticed. Erin growled to Wiskeria.

Is every [Witch] in Riverfarm watching me?

The other [Witch] just raised her brows.

They want to teach you, and they probably want our secrets. [Witches] can be grand and helpful and work together and be as petty as cats. And theyre better than most people at both.

Erin sighed. So far, the day had led her to sweeping for half an hour, being made fun of by an [Emperor], and now she had a sore head and knee. And yetshe glanced sideways at Wiskeria.

Well, what about you, then? What are you certain about?

Therein was the charm, because Wiskeria only took one second before she told Erin, and that directness was what Erin wanted, even if Wiskeria were right and she didnt do it herself.

Im certain in what I admire and love and find worthy. Hencemy craft, although its a strange connection.

[Witch of Law]. Erin raised her brows, and Wiskeria nodded to Oliyaya, innocently pretending to plant mushrooms in a trough outside someones house, much to the homeowners dismay. The woman gave a huge, twisted smile to the two, and Wiskeria muttered to Erin.

Even I dont feel like elaborating right now.

Understandable. Erin saw Oliyaya sighthen Oliyayas head snapped up as the [Innkeeper] innocently put her hands behind her back.

Do you know what your mother was certain about?

Wiskerias eyes glittered.

Not where it started. But yes. My mother is certainthat it was worth it. Despite it all, and however long it has been. It was worth it.

Erin shivered, and Oliyaya cackled as they went on. Wiskeria glanced at Erin and seemed compelled to offer Erin an olive branch.

Even if you think the other [Witches] are only certain, they can be insecure, you know, Erin. But they just pretend and be certain when it counts. Youre allowed to be afraid. Like me. Im never sure if Im saying things right, or if people understand my words, or if Im supposed to smile or pat someone on the shoulders. Every [Witch] is still a woman. They can be prideful or worry about their looks, or secretly love someone and know they wont confess, or want to try on a necklace but fear theyll ruin their image. Right, Mavika?

She turned a corner, and Erin found herself face-to-face with Mavika. Again. This time, the [Crow Witch] was inspecting a shaking pigeon who had come to the wrong territory. The woman had clearly heard all of Wiskerias statements about insecurity.

Mavika, her huge, beady eyes black like a ravens, thin as a rail, hunch-backed, with yellow teeth and a stare that could stain a wall. Mavika, worried about her looks, secretly in love, and wanting to try on a fetching necklace? The [Crow Witch] stared at Wiskeria, then Erin and replied.

No.

Erin looked at Wiskeria, and the [Witch of Law] amended her statement.

Well, maybe not those examples with Mavika. But even youre insecure about some things. Like

Wiskeria stared at Mavika, and the [Crow Witch]s shoulders hunched. Her pet raven cawed warningly, but Wiskeria spoke as a bunch of [Washers] including Yesel hauled a prodigious amount of linen to be cleaned.

Aha. Youre worried that youll be one of the last of the old ways, dying, gasping on empty shores as the death of magicthe literal death of magic, not the half-Elfswallows up every wonder and leaves the world dark and empty. Until only half-people with shells for souls inhabit everything.

Erin and Mavika stared at Wiskeria. Mavikas raven, Sephraic, fanned its wings and took off from her shoulder as Yesel and the [Washers] turned as one to stare at Wiskeria. Instantly, the [Witch of Law] realized shed said the wrong thing. She panickedas if breaking the code of normalcy were the most disturbing thing shed done. She turned and looked around.

Thats completely normal! Just like, uhAlevica.

The Runner Witch froze as Wiskeria pointed at her, eating breakfast in Riverfarms first outdoor cafe. She began to cast a hex, but Wiskeria was already speaking.

Alevicas afraid shell die alone and unloved. See? Very normal.

She turned to Erin and ducked as a hex shot over the tip of her hat. Once again, Erin and Wiskeria found themselves running as Alevica, howling curses, shot spells at them.

Six streets later, they stopped, and Erin clutched at her side. She felt like she was learning a lot. Maybe not about being a [Witch], but a lot.

Wiskeria glanced back to see if Alevica were following, but after she saw no more spells, she straightened her hat.

Thats another lesson about what not to say in public, I guess. This is why I like being an adventurer. Everyones just afraid of dying, and theres no shame in that, apparently. Any more questions?

She turned to Erin as if they were still having a chat about certainty, and Erin had to know.

Alright, what are you afraid of, Wiskeria?

For answer, the [Witch] just sighed.

Dying without having a fulfilling life, I guess. It frightens me every year I grow olderand at least a few times per month. Ending without doing something I think is worthwhile.

She thought about it as Erin fidgeted. It was like speaking tothe most honest person in the world, and it was disconcerting and uncomfortable because of that. Noit was a bit like speaking to a child, like Mrsha. Someone who wouldnt lie. But Wiskeria just went on.

Or becoming my mother. But if this doesnt pan out and I still dont think Im on the right track, I might think about giving it a shot. In a year or two.

At this point, Erin needed a break from Wiskeria. Juuust for a second. She had a sit-down with Pebblesnatch and Numbtongue and Ulvama, who were all sipping coffee that Lyonette had brought from Liscor.

Laken had ordered some made for anyone who wanted to try a cup. So three Goblins were all sitting in one of the mess halls, alone but not hated.

Some Riverfarm folk even waved at Pebblesnatch and complimented her on a dish. It was so strange that Numbtongue looked as amazed as Erin.

Hey, Pebblesnatch! How are you? Hows my favorite [Cook] doing?

Erin hugged the little Cave Goblin, and Ulvama glared as Pebblesnatch clung to Erin with a cry of delight. Erin sat down and exhaled.

Wow, that was a crazy morning. How are you two doing? Hey, Ulvama.

Person.

The [Shaman] was moody. Numbtongue was amused.

We slept in the Goblinlands. Theyre healthy.

Really? Any want to come back to Liscor with us? Pebblesnatch? I invited another [Chef] to my inn, but we could always use two!

Erin expected Pebblesnatch to leap at the offer, but the Cave Goblin just hesitated. She scratched at her head and then, to Erins amazement, spoke.

This place nice.

Aaah! You can talk?

Ulvama rolled her eyes.

All Goblins talk, stupid.

Erin danced around in delight and amazement.

But Pebblesnatch never spoke! You can talk?

Am learn!

I am learning.

Numbtongue corrected the beaming Pebblesnatch. Instantly, the Cave Goblin scowled and raised a ladle of wrath to hit him. He raised a fist, and she reconsidered. In that sense, Goblins were like [Witches].

You really like it here?

Erin tried not to show she was hurt. Pebblesnatch avoided her gaze, and Ulvama sneered.

No Goblins want to go. They allthey all think here is safer, as if here is better. Maybe it is, but theres no tribe here. Just the blind [Emperor].

She burst out, too mad to even pretend to speak ineloquently. Erin saw Numbtongue nod.

Weird place. Theres no real Chieftain. Some people like Raidpear and Leafarmor are sort of Chieftainsbut not.

Erin knew enough about Goblins to understand how strange that was. She harrumphed, not exactly liking Laken being praised for his Goblin-relations. Then she nodded at the door.

Well, I was learning from Wiskeria, and that was intense. Shesreal. So real it feels like shes going to throw me off a cliff and Ill become a [Witch] before I land or go splat.

Ooh. Splat-meat. Already mushy. Easy to cook.

Pebblesnatch nodded knowingly in a way Erin didnt like. As for Numbtongue, he nodded understandingly. Ulvama just snorted.

Go jump already, stupid. You have the class. Go. Shoo. Annoying [Innkeeper] finally has annoying people to teach her. [Witches] this. Witches that. All hats and craft. Bleh.

She pulled one eye down and stuck out her tongue in the most immature way Erin could imagine. She hadnt seen someone do that in years. She gave Ulvama a long look as Numbtongue sipped his coffee.

Dont like your coffee, Ulvama? I love it.

Tea is better.

That one comment earned Ulvama the approval of the [Tea Witch], who did not appreciate this competitor to her domain. Erin sighed and pushed herself up.

Alrightfine. But if I get swirly eyes and start cackling at the moon, Im blaming you! Anyways, I have to go. Im apparently making a hat.

Ulvamas ears perked up. She watched Erin leave as Numbtongue nudged her.

Psst. Ulvama. How important is a hat?

For answer, the [Shaman] rolled her eyes.

How important is your guitar, [Bard]?

Numbtongue eyed his guitar. He glanced at Erin and raised his brows.

That important?

Yup.

All three Goblins watched Erin head out to get back to her training. No wonder her being here was so important. She really was a bad [Witch].

The thing was, it was hard to tell who was most offensive to the [Witches]. Erinor Wiskeria.

One was a joking, irreverent, non-conformist as easy to pin down as a feather in a hurricane.

The other was the greatest heir to their class, who wanted to pretend to be normal while speaking the language of the Elementals and refusing to teach anyone else.

Both were not just offensive to sensibilities, either. They were actively, dramatically rude and insulting at times.

That was why only the most patient [Witch] would suffer them making a hat for Erin as part of the competitions to make a hat that Riverfarms folk would wear. Something stylish, somethingwell, impressive. It would certainly boost the [Witch]s acclaim who won, but there was also personal pride.

Agratha versus Oliyaya. So it was no less than Agratha who let the two [Witches] work on Erins hat as she and her friends and apprentices designed a hat for the non-[Witches].

Agratha, the [Teacher Witch], was the third-most abhorrent [Witch] to many other [Witches]. In this room was the trifecta of irritation. What was really impressive, to the outside observer, was that even here, they annoyed each other.

Erin Solstice stared down at buttons and beads and thread. Oh, so much thread. Cloth to form a hat, pieces of wire to create supports to sew onto, scissors and bobbins and

She was not a sewing-person. She didnt see a sewing machine, and when she heard shed have to hand-sew her hat, she nearly backed out altogether.

You can have help. Itd be embarrassing, but the hats quality can vary. Knowing what it should look like is the first step. Do you have something in mind? Remember what I told youbase it around your certainty. If you knew your craft, thatd help, but a [Witch] can wear whatever hat she thinks is good. Think of Eloise or Hedag.

Hedag wears a brown shoe on her head.

Erin muttered, and one of Agrathas students laughed before clapping a hand over her mouth. Agrathas own lips twitched as she worked on her masterpiece.

Agratha wanted to create a practical hat, a kind of all-purpose cap for [Farmers] and [Crafters] alike. She was engineering it to be a cross between the wide-brimmed caps you needed to work in the sun with something closer to a baseball cap for versions indoors. And she had put Riverfarms pyramid-logo on the front.

It looked almost too plainuntil you saw Agrathas vision, which was to make this so popular anyone would try it on because it represented Riverfarm. She was experimenting with colors to see what looked best.

Casual-wear. Oliyaya, apparently, had gone the opposite way. Like the argument between their ideals, she was creating a hat for a few. A hand-stitched eye upon the top of two ragged wings, dark as night, and all enchanted so that the wearer could walk around in the dark like one of the [Darksky Riders] and see in every environment. A tricorne hat oozing with macabre style that only one or two would ever be made of.

And Erin had to make her own hat. She didnt want to. She eyed the sketches of a traditional pointy hat and some of the examples of Eloises gardener hat with flowers, or unusual ones like Alevicas, which sometimes had glass goggles enchanted for flying hanging off them. And still, she said the most abhorrent thing for a [Witch].

Do I need a hat? I just dont feel like a hat-person. Is this the kind of thing I have to wear all the time, or could I put it on for special occasions like when Im doing magic?

Wiskeria and Agratha glowered at Erin as she raised her hands.

Im just saying! I dont know if its my style. Once you go hat, you cant go back. I think thats a saying. What if I did the thing where I have a hat like this?

She sketched one in the air over her head, and Wiskeria slapped her hand down.

You dont deserve that hat. If I thought you took it seriously, that would be fine. But youre taking it too lightly. Dont laugh, and dont make fun of hats. Not here.

Or what?

Or everyone in here will poke you.

The younger [Witches] and Agratha looked up. The thing about sewing circles wasif someone really got on your nerves?

Everyone had needles. Erin eyed them and mollified her tone slightly. She hadnt realized how dangerous an angry [Sewer] could be.

I get it. Its justI dont think Ill look good in one.

Then make one that suits, my dear. No one can look bad in a hat if its made for them.

Agratha sounded kind, like the best of teachers, if somewhat annoying. Erin squirmed.

Yeah, but I just dont like having to wear one. You know, it feels like being forced to, and I hate that. I could never do a dress code.

Even the [Teacher Witch]s smile slipped. She almost snapped back, but Wiskeria eyed Erins clothing.

Why? You wear that apron all the time, and youre not at work. You dont mind that. Why dont you really want a hat?

Erin froze. She was indeed wearing her innkeepers outfit, even though Selys and Drassi had sent her with tons of stylish clothing. She had chosen itperhaps deliberatelyas a kind of defiance against her lessons. She squirmed, fidgeted, and then turned her head. But fixed between all the other [Witches] stares, Erin turned beet red and finally admitted the truth.

IIIm not sure Im cool enough to be a [Witch] all the time, Wiskeria. I cant ooze style and self-assurance like that. Ive been worried all day because Califor, the [Witches] of old like Somillune? I dont think I can ever be thatwonderful. [Witches], I mean. Theyre magic and stories, and Im afraid Ill let down their class. Cant I look like this?

She said it, and the hostile mood of the sewing circle changed at once. Some of the apprentices glanced up, fumbling with beads and decorating their own hats as they pleased. Agrathas scowl turned into a beaming smile, and another [Witch] with her hair braided under a hat spiraling upwards in a swirl of different-colored cloths exhaled.

Aah.

Ah, so that was it. Another piece of the Erin-puzzle fell into place. The same doubt Wiskeria had seen was all over her. Wiskeria looked thoughtfully at Erin and nodded.

Yet you tried to bind an Elemental to this land. Thats a level of witchcraft few people can do. You want that, but not to be a [Witch] at all times? I see. You havent learned my lessons yet. How about this? Help me sew for a bit. We need to teach you basic threadwork, anyways.

So she began with showing Erin how to thread a needle and the most basic of tasks, and once again, Erin found herself slightly bored, but less so than sweeping because the [Witches] did talk. They talked about work, projects, gossiped about folks in Riverfarmbut more interesting than regular gossip.

Cheating on her husband? Well, that will be a to-do when it comes to light. Tsk, tsk.

Agrathas coven discussed an affair occurring in Riverfarm, complete with salacious details like the couple meeting in the forest in the dead of night. Unlike gossip, though, this didnt end with them all tut-tutting or one person speculating on what might happen. Another circle might be the leak from which the entire affair was exposed by. Agrathas?

We should have the truth out before it festers. The trick is keeping the husband from going off in a rage and the couple from becoming pariahsfor too long. How sensible is the man?

Another [Witch], Qitene, the one with the curving headpiece of colors, was a [Cloth Witch], and she was even a Stitch-woman. She was best at working here, although she seemed oddly intimidated by Wiskeria, even though the [Witch of Law] wasnt doing more than teaching Erin how to sew a straight line. She responded.

He listens to [Witches], and I think he knows something is amiss. As for a temperwho doesnt run hot? At least the other fellow has no fiance or partner of his own.

Agratha nodded.

Then lets pluck the thorn before it festers. I, myself, might go down and have a talk with the man. Does anyone have some small bit of craft for the daughter? Something to delight a girl of six. I need a suitable vintage if he might want to drink, and I will prevail on the [Chef] for a good meal. Then we will have a chat, he and I.

And the partners?

Agrathas smile was neither nice nor malicious as her fingers worked over the cloth with a needle of her own.

I understand one of the two is a former [Trader] in class? A month or two of transporting goods to the Unseen Empires other settlements and allies might keep them out of Riverfarm. I shall ask His Majesty or Mister Prost about it.

Erin listened thoughtfully as the coven agreed this might be for the best. In this way, she was reminded of her inn. She had bad guests.

Even Relc had been one, and Menolit too, at times. Agrathas methods were more direct. She nudged and used very basic ideas liketalking to someone or reassigning the cheating couple to prevent the social wrath of Riverfarm from falling on them.

Her craft, her magic, was very mundane. But it was there, like the little toy that Agratha accepted from one of the other [Witches]. It was one of those wooden propeller-toys that you could spin in your hands to make fly. Only, this one could hover and spin for far longer than it should or return to you if you shot it high into the air. Agratha bowed and owed the other [Witch] a small debt.

I shall take his daughters laughter and make him a brooch of it to wear, that poor man. If he is wise, and if his friends and family support him, that should balm the wound in his heart.

Subtle magic, for a [Witch] in the modern day. Thoughtfully, Erin doodled on a piece of foolscap as Agrathas own hat, the cheerful red hat over a sweater and robes, made her look so normal.

Yet she still had magic. Which begged the question

What does Oliyayas craft look like, Witch Agratha? I know youre opposed to her. If this is how you help people, how does she?

Agrathas smile slipped as she tucked the propeller toy away. The other [Witches] glanced up, and Wiskeria sighed as Agratha replied a bit stiffly, but with a smile for Erin.

Oliyaya is a [Witch] of traditions, Erin. Im sure youve seen her penchant for drama and frights. Well, her craft is not to help people, Im afraid. She would simply sell the man a hex to torment the couple or the cheating woman her own protections. She would let a community fall to ruin, tormenting each other.

The other [Witches] nodded, and Erin winced as she imagined what would happen if you could literally buy a hex to cast on someone you didnt like. She turned to Wiskeria, and the [Witch of Law] rubbed at one ear. She glanced aroundthen replied, not quite looking at Agratha.

Some would say that leaving people to administer their own justice is fairer than guiding a place. If everyone has stones and throws them, they learn not to throw them unless they want a street full of broken windows. Oliyayas never been run out of any city, Erin. She has leftbefore they collapsed, but she would tell you they were already rotten. Good should be good, and bad should be bad, as vividly as possible. Otherwise, everything is just flat and boring.

She paused as Agrathas gaze sparked with annoyance, and she calmly met the [Teacher Witch]s eyes.

Is what Oliyaya would say, if she were here. Perhaps not as politely.

Agratha turned to Erin, smiling.

That is Oliyayas perspective, Miss Solstice. I hope when you find your craft and hat, youll use it for the good of as many people as possible. A [Witch] does not need to be feared.

Sometimes, she does. They should fear you, or how else will they respect you when you need to stand against them?

Once more, Wiskerias comment earned her a flash of irritation. Erin bit her tongue, and Agratha turned pointedly to Erins illustrations.

Do you have a hat in mind, Miss Solstice?

S-sort of. I have a few things that I think would look cool. What about this?

Erin showed her drawing around, and the [Witches] inspected it. It was just a first-draft, but the hatWiskeria glanced at Erin, and Agratha looked slightly dismayed, but some of the [Witches] liked it.

Her first attempt at a hat was a typical pointed hat, with a decently wide brim, all in blue, to match Wiskerias. But on the outline of blue, Erin had doodled the accessories that would really make the hat hers.

Chess pieces. She had drawn little hooks and loops of string from which chess pieces would dangle around her hat or sit on the brim or higher up. A rook, a queen, a pawnErin glanced around.

Whaddya think? I could have made the hat green for Goblins, but I feel like this is a good start.

Do youlike chess that much, Witch Erin?

Agratha eyed the drawings, and Erin smiled at her.

You have no idea.

It wasnt going to be her final hat, and both Erin and Wiskeria knew it. The other [Witch] didnt even have to say anything; they just walked out of their first day in the hat-making process, and Erin scuffed a foot on the ground.

Okay, maybe I wasnt feeling it. But Im warming up to the hat thing.

Good. Now, what I didnt say in there was that Agratha isnt wrong. She teaches more [Witches] than anyoneeven Califor or Oliyayacan. Oliyaya is a traditionalist, and her craft is powerfulbut she teaches her apprentices to make the most of what they have or what they are.

Meaning?

Wiskeria pointed to the witching street, where, at night, [Witches] would scare people or commit pranks. There were even warning signs posted about when the allowed mischief began. Oliyayas street even seemed darker, the shadows longer.

Have you seen Oliyayas current apprentice? The one with scars?

She wears a scarf sometimes? Yeahwhat about her?

Erin sighed. It really was aa scary face? No, but it was disturbing, and it wasnt the girls fault; it had been a fire before Oliyaya found her. But she did seem to revel in the looks she got. Wiskeria nodded.

Oliyaya took her in. She told her apprentice that if her face scares peopleshe could use that in her craft. Just like Oliyaya doesnt mind being the bad witch. If youre petty or you have a scar, if you are somethingembrace it. Its not always right, but a lot of [Witches] are that. Qualities, good and bad, taken and made into craft.

Aha. I think Im more on Oliyayas sideI mean, the big magicthan Agrathas.

Wiskeria shrugged.

Perhaps. But you dont seem like youd stand for another [Witch] causing trouble on your turf. If I were in your coven, Id be careful about doing something to annoy you.

Erin opened her mouth to object and then reflected, honestly, that this was true. The last spellcaster she had opposed had gotten a faceful of death curry right before she asked Grimalkin to punch Palt and the others. Wiskeria summed up Oliyayas entire ethos with a simple fact.

Witch Alevica is one of Oliyayas best pupils. She pretty much represents the best and worst of Oliyayas teachings.

Erin whistled; that made sense. She turned to Wiskeria.

Okay, I sort of get whats wrong about how Im acting. Im thinking of a hatwhat do you think my craft is? Can I find it?

She was hoping now was the time to do some magic, but for answer, Wiskeria just raised her brows.

That depends on whether you can learn the lesson. Come on. Its not even midday yet. I have a lot to do, and sewing wasnt one of them.

So she led Erin off, and to her dismaythe [Innkeeper] realized that, [General] or not, Wiskeria really was a normal [Witch]. She kept looking for the lesson, but she missed it as they patrolled Riverfarm, helped till a field since there were no farmhands, and went picking rare herbs in the forest. Wiskeria taught her about herbcraft, talked about basic spells to ward off insects, and the aspects of being a [Witch]alchemy and spellcraft, people skills and herblore, and more.

It was the most boring stuff Erin could have dreamed of.

That night, Wiskeria let Erin go and watched the [Innkeeper] practically race away to catch up with her friends and the other people from Liscor. She thought Erin had been holding her tongue ever since evening began, and the impatience coming off her was practically an aura in itself.

Is she going to learn? At least one more day.

Wiskeria wasnt madshe was just curious whether this was a waste of time or not. She liked Erin and felt like Erin liked her, but they were diametrically different. But if she found out what Wiskeria wanted her to see, what Belavierr had taught her and ruined forever

Well. That would be worth it.

With Erin gone, Wiskeria walked across the river and patrolled the riverbank, listening hard. She noticed a few crows sitting in the trees, and shed seen Hedag and some other [Witches] doing this throughout the day, in between spying on her and Erin.

They were all listening to the old man. After yesterday, people had taken care when drawing water and moving around it, but it wasnt like he had any power without a body. Erin had given him a body and magicright now, he was the river.

What Wiskeria didnt like was that he was quiet. He didnt weep or speak or beg. He was quiet, as if he had died. Or as if he were a river or stream not old or magical enough to have a personality.

She didnt like it. But once more, Wiskeria knew that if she wanted to slay him or stop him from doing anything else, she would need to perform a sacrifice or work a great craft of her own, and she had none. So, she just listened and went back to her home.

Once there, she took her hat off, stretched out in an armchair, and watched the scrying orb while she took a load off. She laughed and stared at the people on the various channels and television networks, trying to figure out why they did those things. After she felt rested, she got up and began to bake some bread so she had food for breakfast.

Something with almonds; shed gotten a big basket as a gift from a [Forager]. She ground some up to add to her flour and kept watching the scrying orb. What a boon it was! She loved seeing other people like this, and this way she didnt have to spy on them or watch out of the corner of her eyes.

Wiskeria was letting the bread rise in the stone oven and about to pop out to get some pumpkin soup for a lovely dinner that would be mildly appetizing to her. A fine, home-cooked meal that would never compare with the feasts Belavierr lavished on her as a child, from magical cornucopias and every great kingdom of old.

She was just opening the door when she heard the shrieking sound again. For a third time that day, when it had woken her up before dawn, in the sewing circle, and nowWiskeria heard it.

A scream with no vocal cords, no voice. A kind ofwas it even a scream? It sounded like that, but it was so foreign that Wiskeria frozethen she drew a knife and wand and was racing around her home.

Where are you? Where are you? Come out and face me, come out from where you hide. Let you or I come to blood and one of us now dies.

Furious this time, she chanted a little spell and cast it wide, hoping to grab something and provoke it to battle. It would have worked if it were a screaming mouse like she claimed, but her spell foundnothing.

Nothing. Wiskeria searched, without rest, ears perked, until she sensed her bread was almost done in the oven. Cursing, she sheathed her weapons and took it out.

Where was that sound? Not even Erin heard it, and she heard the old man in the river. Is it just me?

Not once did it occur to Wiskeria that she might be crazy. She just wished her mother was here. Her mother would be the best resource for anything unknown.

To Wiskeria, a scream in your head, the flicker out of the corner of your eye? That was either an illusion of your head or something actually being there. Neither one was wrong, and she was almost positive it wasnt in her head.

So why? Why, why, why? Wiskeria settled into her rest uneasily. She kept a knife right next to her hand in her bed, and she cast three wards to find invisible intruders. She didnt expect the scream again, but to her surprise, it woke her just past dawn. The scream echoed in her ears, and she ran in her nightclothes, bursting out her door, head swinging around wildly.

It was in Riverfarm. Not her house. Then she realized two other things. Erin was covering her eyes and telling Wiskeria to put some clothes on and that she refused if this was part of her training.

The next thing? She heard it in the air. A snarl, this one audible and ongoing despite the scream. A snarl coming from across Riverfarm, from the rushing riverand Wiskeria felt it on her skin. She needed no pricking in her toes. She looked up as the sky began to sprinkle rain, which turned into a downpour and grew and grew throughout the day.

The old man was back. And this timehe was angry.

To most, it probably just looked like a stormy day. Granted, the signs hadnt been there last night; the skies had been clear, so this was a fast storm, possibly magical.

The truth was that it was very magical. In fact, it was elemental. Natural, but not in the nice way of nature.

The [Witches] held a conference with Laken and a single [Rain Mage] specialized in weather magic. Their advice was simple: shore up the levies. Make sure the river, if it overflowed the embankments, wouldnt threaten Riverfarm.

Fortunately, Riverfarm hadnt been rebuilt on the edge of the river. So the [Emperor] listened and gave orders diverting a lot of the work to digging embankments that would rise above the highest flow of the river.

It would be a tough problem, given the size of the river, but Prost estimated they only needed five feet of raised land to contain the river on each side. Even the most wet years had never passed that much higher.

Besides, even if they lacked concrete as of yet, magic would provide. Stone could be raised and dirt piled around it. Similarly, the [Rain Mage] assured Laken he could try and remove the power of the storm.

So, it was a rainy day. Which wasnt at all Erins fault as she went about another day of shadowing Wiskeria. Today, she did so with a huge glare piercing her shoulder blades.

Mrsha the Wet had had it up to here with this vacation. First, she got sick. Then, as she was getting over it, the rains began.

None of the children wanted to play in the rain long. Oh, it was fun the first hour or two, but then the rain got so intense that it just wasnt fun.

Much less for a Gnoll covered with fur. She shook her fist at Erin as the guilty [Innkeeper] left with a raincoat on.

Meanwhile, everyone else was either content or working in the rain. For instance, there was Numbtongue. Rather than being the cool older brother whod run around with her or do something fun, there he was.

Snuggling. Mrsha balefully saw him sitting next to a fire minutes after he trudged in, wet, from helping the Goblins fortify up their spot from mudslides. He began playing his guitar next to Garia, who was equally soaked. They only had one blanket, which they were sharing.

Curse your boring lives. Mrsha hissed at him. The Hobgoblin shooed her away as he began to strum on his guitar. She didnt see the point. Oh, there was some merit to a good snuggle with people. But when you were tired, not during the day! The only thing she approved of was his plate full of snacks, and he smacked her paw when she tried to steal some.

I will remember this.

Mrsha handed him a card. He flicked it into the fire, and she pulled the door open so rainwater would blow in and kept it wedged open with a boot.

Mrsha the Vindictive went to find someone else who was fun, but to her dismay, Griffon Hunt were helping dig the levees. Briganda didnt have Cade anywhere near the river, obviously, but the children were reading books inside.

Books? Mrsha the Semi-Literate stared in dismay at them. Another task for when you had less energy! She wanted to run around. She tried to think. Who else was there?

Ulvama. Ulvama was

Sitting in one of the mess halls, making Pebblesnatch cook up food for her and the other wet and hungry Riverfarm folk. And eating a lot of the Goblins food. Mrsha raced off to find Lyonette.

Lyonette! A panting Ser Sest held the door open for Mrsha; he had the unenviable task of following her around and keeping her safe. Lyonette was

Sipping tea with Eloise again and chatting about home.

So do you think your family will be trying for an alliance at this banquet theyve cooked up, Miss Marquin?

Oh, its not a banquet. Its clearly some kind of meeting, but the Restful Threedead gods, Mrsha, how wet are you? Come in here and have a seat. We have tea and

Mrsha dashed back out into the rain. She howled up at the sky silently as she raised her fists to the storming clouds.

No tea! No snuggling! No gods or masters! She tried to think.

Who else was there? Who had come on this trip that she could find that was fun? The [Emperor] was no good. One of the [Witches]? But they were, uhintense. Not to be crossed, even by Mrsha the Cute and Lovable.

Of the people she knew, who was free? Not Erin; her [Witch]-training was boring. Numbtongue, GariaMrsha counted on her paws until she thought of the new, fascinating duo.

Tkrn and Inkar.

Now, Tkrn was a known quantity, but he was a bit different after his time in the south. As for Inkar, why, she was a Gnoll-Human! Entertaining and wise in Gnoll-ways. HoweverMrshas face fell.

She knew they were a couple. A serious, full-time couple, not like Numbtongue and his open, multi-snuggling arrangement. No doubt theyd be full bleh-fest right now indoors.

And there Mrsha was wrong. For, right before her eyes, she saw Inkar briskly walking with a load of bricks, helping transport them to the levees. She was working! But seriously, so Mrsha didnt bother her. Then she saw Tkrn and heard something amidst the rain.

Nows hardly the time to test it, Mister Tkrnbut then again, nows the only time! I wouldnt have you standing in the street, and we have wagons coming in still since no one expected the rain.

What?

Tkrn and Mister Prost were lugging something with a team of people down the street. Mrsha smelled new steel and something interesting. She followed Tkrn as Ser Sest the Weak begged her to go indoors, offering her a hot drink of something.

What Tkrn and Prost had that was so important was going straight in the middle of the street known for all the traffic jams. In fact, it was so important that Durene herself came to help hang it up. They were trying to hang it from a rope, but realized it was too unstable; instead, they had a post hammered into the street as they cleared a spot with pickaxes.

It was fast with someone as strong as Durene; then they anchored the whatever-it-was to the top. Mrsha stared in confusion as a small guardrail was installed to keep someone from hitting the central post.

What was this strange thing? Prost was shouting about putting paint down to mark the sides of the street, but Tkrn was so wet he could barely hear.

All the while, the [Guardsman] was blowing his whistle and directing the wagons such that they didnt smash into each other.

It was an even greater concern on a rainy day such as this, where rain made wheels slip and obscured vision. Yet Laken Godart had commissioned a solution, and now, Mrsha saw a strange metalthingstanding tall on the pole.

It had a kind of triangular base and head and a four-sided rectangle for a body, pointing each of the cardinal directions. But what was odd were the three holes on each side. They were vacant, but as Prost stepped back and began shouting at the crowd, including [Drivers], Mrsha saw him turn to Nesor, the timid [Mage], and the young man raised a wand.

Then the entire apparatus came to life, and Mrsha saw a bright, nay, brilliant red, unlike most mundane colors, come to life. It shone down the street, not bright enough to blind, but visible to the confused drivers.

Who stopped. They stared at the red light, and Mrsha waitedbut the light just shone. Shone and shoneand she realized there were green lights coming from the other direction. Tkrn waved the carts through on those sides, while the other two stopped. Then

The light turned green, and the others turned red, and those two streets stopped. Tkrn waved the new drivers through, and they passed under the aegis of the worlds first traffic light until the light turned yellow and blinked. That meant it was about to turn red, and sure enough, only one wagon made it through before it turned red.

Red means stop! Green means go!

Prost wanted to put a sign up, but he bellowed the instructions at the crowd, who really didnt need more than that.

Red meant stop, green meant go. And like that, the poor Tkrn could be relieved. Like thatthe Gnoll [Guardsman] stared up at the beginning of something new. Something that would forever change the Five-Way Cart Fullbody Pileup for goodor create the Ten Mile Wagon-to-Wagon Jam.

Traffic lights. He couldnt wait to tell Zevara about it, and as Laken had told him, this simple light was only the beginning. Why, you could create entire rules like turning right on red or multiple lights to direct streetsbut youd need paint for that. Proper intersections.

It was going to change a lot. Of course, this was only necessary in a bigger city with traffic, but Tkrn saw it. He glanced around and saw a little Gnoll staring up at the light.

Mrsha stared up at the glowing light as it began to show its signals on a nonstop loop. She admired it for about one minute, then padded off.

Boring.

Mrsha the Increasingly Desultory walked through the empty streets of Riverfarm, fast losing her will to persist in this cold, wet environment. Even with all the will in the world, even as a [Druid], this rain sorta blew. And it also was wet.

She was almost about to call it quits and join a snuggle-pile or eat herself sick with Ulvama when she saw something. Mrsha stopped dead in the street and craned her head. She sniffed, but the rain took away the scent.

Was that?

M-Miss Mrsha, wouldnt you like to sample some cookies? Im sure that we could find you one. A bushel! Lets keep it between ourselves, and Her Highness need not know, eh?

Ser Sest was so cold and shivering even in his armor that he was resorting to base bribery. It worked on the other [Princesses]; why not Mrsha? But then he saw her take off through the streets, and he had to run to keep up.

Once more, Sest cursed the lost hand of cards last night that had led him here. He was certain that Shriekblade was following Mrsha; even if he couldnt see her, Princess Lyonette valued her daughters safety over her own.

Between an [Emperor]s eyes and a Named-rank, what could he do?

Oh yes, keep her from catching another cold. And his head be it if the rascal got one, but Mrsha had taken his umbrella and thrown it into the air when he tried to hold it over her head! Her raincoat? He suspected shed stuffed it in the oven when he wasnt looking because he couldnt find it.

Where was she going? Mrsha was following something down the street. Only when Ser Sest rounded a corner did he see her charging after a small shape almost as white as she wasonly this one had a lot of brown cloth over its body. Sest stopped because, despite them being a familiar sight

He had never seen a Sariant Lamb wearing a raincoat. It even had little boots. Somehow, the wretched creature was more adorable.

Sariant Lambs hated the rain, but this one was trotting off, and Mrsha was running after it. In factas the Thronebearer ran, he saw a line of Sariant Lambs appear. They were all trotting ahead of Mrsha, who was following them.

Dead gods, were the rumors true? The lambs stopped at the edge of Riverfarm, and Sest felt for his sword. They assembled, and he saw the most uncanny thing as Mrsha halted herself.

They were, sixteen of them, forming an arrow. The arrow was pointing out of Riverfarm, up a hill. Mrsha turned and gave Ser Sest a wary look.

Perhaps wed better, ah, find His Majesty, Miss Mrsha?

She hesitatedbut Mrsha the Fearless was not about to turn down this mystery. She slowly began running down the street, and Ser Sest ran, this time with a hand on his emergency speaking stone. The lambs dispersed behind him, and he felt worried.

If we ever get back to the capital, I might need to have a word with the Grandmaster of the Thronebearers about the lambs.

Then again, he had heard the [Emperor] had a Skill. So the lambs might be doing this for him? But what could they think was worth Mrsha leaving Riverfarm?

The answer, thankfully, wasnt that far from the town at all or Sest would have called Mrsha back and triggered the alert. In fact, it was just a small hill overlooking the town. There, sitting under a tree as rain thundered down, running down the trunk and drowning the roots was

A [Witch]. A young girl, sitting with her hat dripping with water over her wet robes. She made no move as Mrsha and Ser Sest came to a halt.

A [Witch]?

Ser Sest the Obvious was the first to react to the strange sight. Mrsha was entranced just seeing Nanette sitting there.

It looked likewell, it looked like some kind of fantasy painting. There was the tree, water running from every leaf. Below it was a girl dressed in dark cloth, blue, but soaked so much it looked black, water running down her pointed hat, face blank as a doll. The water ran past her legs, a veritable torrent heading to the river, and the storm was only increasing.

It would be a lovely paintingbut the reality of it had to be the most uncomfortable thing in the world. It was wet. And Mrsha could not imagine sitting there like that.

But the strange girl never moved. Mrsha wondered if she were dead. But she could see the [Witch] breathing.

Yet not once did she move, even when Mrsha padded forwards and waved at her. Ser Sest tried to call her back, but Mrsha ignored him.

Hello? Are you okay? Are you cold?

She couldnt say these things with writing, and obviously the girl didnt know Mrsha-signs, so Mrsha tapped a speaking stone.

Hello! Hello!

The [Witch] blinked at that. A head came up, and Mrsha saw little round cheeks, pale and shivering slightly with cold, and eyes that should have been shy and rosy brown, wide and innocent.

They were as empty as a piece of glass. Empty and lost. Mrsha stared at the girl. The gaze fixed on her slightly curiously, but then drifted down as if the hat were weighing the head down.

Miss Mrsha, lets not disturb this good [Witch]. His Majesty is friendly with them

Sest the Stupid called out nervously. He actually tried to pull Mrsha away, and Mrsha leapt up, so that he tried to catch her. The Thronebearer tried to hold onto Mrsha and slipped as she springboarded off his chest. A windmilling pair of arms was followed by a crash as he went bouncing down the hill.

Mrsha spat after him, then turned back to the strange [Witch]. Not once had the girl moved, though she had watched the entire thing.

She was wet and cold. Even if she herself didnt acknowledge it, the rain made her limbs tremble. Mrsha tapped her stone again.

Hello! Whats wrong with you?

She wincedbut that was the only phrase that came close to displaying what she wanted to say. The semi-insult made the [Witch] glance up, but this time, she saw the speaking stone.

Im fine. Thank you, Miss Gnoll.

She spoke politely, and Mrsha stood there, uncertain of what to do. She sensed a profound emptiness from the girl. Not even sadnessjust a vacancy.

Ser Sest was coming back up the hill, swearing under his breath. He turned to Mrsha as the girl sat there, not responding. Even if Mrsha threw a rock at her like the bad kids, Nanette wouldnt have moved.

Mrsha threw no rocks, of course. Instead, she turned as Ser Sest glumly hung his head in the rain and, to his amazement and relief, pointed down the hill.

Food. Im hungry. Lets go back.

Back, Miss Mrsha? At once!

In relief, Ser Sest escorted her down the hill, and that was that. The [Witch] sat there, staring at the clouds. Wiskeria hadnt come by. The old man she had talked about must be the one causing the storm.

Nanette wondered how long it would last. She wondered if the water would reach this hill or if Erin would make her go to Liscor. If Califor wanted it

Her mother was dead. So Nanette sat there, vaguely recognizing the Gnoll, thinking of Erins words to her. But still, she could not move.

What she did not expect, nor recognize at first, was the little girl coming back up the hill, followed by a beleaguered Thronebearer. Nanette did not recognize the two at first because this time an umbrella disguised Ser Sest, and he was so festooned with objects that he could barely see.

Mrsha herself had a towel on her head. She parked herself in front of Nanette, and the [Witch] looked up.

If Hedag had not been at the riverside, helping dig the levees, she or Eloise would have come up here, if theyd seen Nanette, and taken her somewhere dry. That didnt seem to occur to Mrsha. Instead, she grabbed the umbrella the [Knight] carried and clambered into the tree. There, she wedged it among the branches that it might not blow away and began ordering the [Knight] around with authoritative jabs from her wand.

ErWitch Nanette, isnt it? This is for you. Do pardon the intrusion, Miss MrshaI am giving her it!

The [Knight] had a dry towel. In fact, he had several towels and what turned out to be Mrshas raincoat. Nanette blinked at it.

Im fine. Thank you.

She tried to assure Mrsha she needed and wanted nothing. The girl offered Nanette a towel.

Im fine.

Miss Mrsha cannot speak, Witch Nanette. I pray you forgive her insistence. She is a gentle soul.

Mrsha stabbed Sest in the leg with the wand and made him back up. Then she dumped the towel on Nanette and industriously tried to remove as much water from the dripping area as she could. The umbrella kept the rain from pouring down on Nanette, and Mrsha used up three crisp, white towels and tossed them one after another at Ser Sest. Then she produced, of all things, a quill and paper and wrote!

Ser Sest gloomily read the instructions.

Miss Mrsha, these are not our provisions! I am sure His Majesty is generous, but I must remind you that I am also your bodyguard. I cannot leave you.

Nanette saw Mrsha writing and, despite herself, craned her neck to see.

ThengetUsharstupid!

Mrsha wrote word by word fairly fast and very legibly and handed it to Ser Sest. Instantly, he brightened up.

Well, I suppose that if I mustDame Ushar, I fear I must call you to action. I believe Miss Mrsha would like two umbrellas, yes, two, and six towels. I cannot explain, meet me at the hill

Im fine. Really.

Nanette realized what Mrsha was trying to do and objected as the girl brought forth a fourth towel. But Mrsha just gave her a bright smile.

She had no words, but somehow, the smile managed to say everything it needed to. Perhaps it was Nanettes own witchcraft, but she could almost hear the little girl mimicking a mothers voice.

Yes, of course youre fine.

Then she proceeded to ignore Nanette and pat her with the towel. The [Witch] let her and had to admit, being drier was better than shivering. She only moved when Mrsha went to remove the hat.

Thats mine. Dont touch it.

She caught Mrshas paw, and the Gnoll hesitated. Then she nodded and let Nanette pat it dry.

A second Thronebearer appeared, annoyed, but when she saw Mrsha and the [Witch], things made more sense. Mrsha grabbed the towels and kept drying Nanette; in fact, she then demanded a heat spell, which Ser Sest cast. Of all the spells the Thronebearer had[Dry Clothing] and [Remove Minor Stains] were two of the cantrips he practiced.

Well, they came in handy here, and then Mrsha was in the branches, wedging more umbrellas up there. She wasnt even done. To Ser Sest and Dame Ushars mild horror, she took the wet towels and, instead of removing them, made them cut holes in the towels and join them together so they formed a kind of cloth wall! Then she hung them over a branch, forming a barrier on two sides that she anchored with rocks.

Miss Mrsha! The towels areow! Ow! Eight more towels, Ushar. Or just bedsheets, Lady Marquin? Bedsheets it is.

She was making a fort! A fort out of umbrellas and towels and cloth. Nanette was well aware of how expensive cloth could be, but Mrsha was happily ignorant of the fact. It seemed to be her mission in life to shield Nanette from the slightest raindrop and gust of wind.

In fact, she was quite enjoying herself, and while she was young, she was a Gnoll; she had lived in yurts and their travelling tents and knew how one was made, in theory. Nanette kept trying to shoo her away, but Mrsha refused to go, and Nanette would not stand, so all she had were vague words.

Nor did the Thronebearers stop their wayward charge. At first, they protested the cost and imposition, but then they glanced at the wet little girl and saw past the pointed hat.

Soon enough, Nanette had a raincoat over her like a blanket and another to sit on. Mrsha wanted to reinforce the towel and bedsheet walls and make sure the entire affair wouldnt collapse when the wind blew too hard.

To that end, Ser Sest with a shovel was beginning to pile dirt up so the wall could be anchored in the ground, and Mrsha was beginning to demand lumber, long boards of wood. Which in turn required nails, and hey, if we were going to do this, why not some insulation? Two sets of wallscould Sest find a huge nail or something to anchor them together? A bedframe would do.

It never seemed to occur to Mrsha to move Nanette. Nor that it would be easier to make Nanette move. She regarded it as a challenge; if the [Witch] had a reason to be here in the middle of a storm, well, Mrsha would happily requisition an entire house for her.

The breaking point was probably the demands for boards of wood. No less than Lyonette and Eloise came up the hill to see why two Thronebearers were grabbing so much from the guest houses.

Mrsha! Come here, young lady!

Mrsha hid behind a tree, but Eloise saw Nanette and cried out.

Nanette! I thought I told you to stay indoors. It seems your daughter saw what we had forgotten. Come, Nanette. Youll die of sickness and wet.

She strode over, and Nanette sighed. She didnt move as the [Tea Witch] bent to pull her up, but to her astonishment, a Gnoll clambered through the branches. She aimed a wand down, and Mrsha the Sniper shot a little arrow of light at Eloise!

The spell bounced off the [Witch]s hat.

Mrsha!

The age of [Shamans] was over. [Oracle] was a rare class. Same for [Warlock], even [Witch] and all the other old classes of diverse magic. No one needed the title of Waning World to know that ghosts were gone or that magic itself had diminished.

It had been a long, long time since even Belavierr had spirit walked. The closest Wiskeria had ever come was communing with Treants at sea by her mothers side or going after Erin as she found the old man in the river.

This was similar, but different. Wiskeria found herself going to a place that had no corporeal reality. It was an idea, a representation of something. Her soul went; her body stayed behind.

This was a deeper version of what Erin had done and far more dangerous. If she died, her body would be left behind. And anything could come back.

Worse, Wiskeria had not prepared for this. When she found herself standing in the black world that she had come to, she had neither the axe nor Erins knife in hand.

Wonderful.

Wiskeria was not afraid. She was wary. If need be, she would fight with tooth and nail and carve chunks out of her essence to fight with. Ideas were as dangerous as material things, here. Her mother had taught her how to survive a journey into dreams.

But this was no dream. Wiskeria felt senses returning to her, but oddly. She smelled and feltbut distantly. She was, after all, within a different kind of world.

Even so, there was a kind of gravity, a kind ofplace. Her boots were mired in something that ran around her. She heard little but her own breathing, but she had a sense ofsomething in the darkness.

There was so little light. It sparked, now and then in the distance, and Wiskeria saw the faint outlines of something. A lot of things.

She was surrounded. But nothing moved, so Wiskeria assumed that if this were a trap, she would have been slain. The question waswhere was she and why?

Hello? Youve summoned me to your very being, whomever and whatever you are. Welcome me or attack me, but dont leave me in silence. I am Wiskeria, daughter of Belavierr. Are you my mothers enemy or friend?

Wiskeria asked the most obvious question. Yet she received no answer. If this was some Daemon or spirit, she would assume it held a grudge against her mother.

Nothing. Now, Wiskeria heard sounds.

Drip, drip, drip. Something was running down, dripping into the watery floor upon which she walked. She heard a grinding, as of metal on metal, and she smelled iron in the air.

Blood? In the distance, that light sparked again. Again and again, a little flash in a void of nothingness. It was not one color she could see from so far; but it illuminated everything.

Something vast loomed around Wiskeria. She looked sideways and recoiled. Something was crouching over her. Wiskeria hesitated.

[Light].

She knew it wasnt going to work. Magic didnt fizzle out here; magic might not exist here. Sure enough, her hand produced nothing. At least she had her clothes, but they were only an idea. They were not the same clothes woven by her mother. If she imagined it

Wiskeria walked through the darkness, and the swish of her robes vanished. For a second, she felt a chill and was naked. Then her clothes reappeared.

Just an idea.

The robes would not protect her, nor did she wish to be injured here. So where was this?

The light was the most obvious answer. Wiskeria did not want to touchwhatever was around her.

They were huge. Some of them loomed so tall she imagined they were as large as hills, and she had the uneasy feeling of things above even them. Yet nothing moved. She did not even know if they were alive.

Other things were broken as she walked, trying to time her movements to the erratic light, flashing, guiding her forwards. She kicked something heavy and nearly fell, then bent.

What am I walking through? Wiskeria felt somethingwet as her fingers touched it. She brought it up, sniffed, and licked it. Then spat.

Blood. Blood and rust and water and more.

She could not name all of it. But it wasnt a river of blood, which was promising. Not only blood.

To the light, then. Wiskeria ran smack bang into something as she walked into the water. It was heavy and hard, and when she recoiled, something fell to pieces, splashing into the water.

Did something die? She felt a sigh run through this place and backed away.

If I am intrudingtell me. I have no eyes. I cannot see. If I cause offense, I apologize.

Did anything hear her? She knew something was here, but she could not tell if it was one or myriad. Wiskeria could only continue onwards, to the light.

It wasfar. Far enough that her legs burned by the time she reached it. It was a long journey, running into things that sometimes cut her slightly. Nothing moved until she drew closer to the light, whereupon she began to sense a kind of life, here.

If the darkness from where she had begun were filled with almost nothing, closer she began to pick outpresences.

Not life. There were no lungs, nor hearts to beat. If it were a life, it was a strange one, but it appraised her. Many, many lives, some faint and flickering, others cold, and most as old as time.

Her boots began to crunch on something, and she thought she walked over corpses. But what? What?

The light. It was her answer and guide. And nowWiskeria realized it had the same voice that Erin had called something from her world. A thin, shrill scream, like a newborn babe in an inhuman, alien tongue.

It was the source of her light and, Wiskeria realized, her anchor and guide. The axe, or what had spoken through the axe, was here, too. They must be her contacts or representatives.

But what was the light?

It lay on a piece of fallen metal, so rusted it was all red and brown, not a trace of the original metal to be seen. The object there was small, hand-sizedtiny. Wiskeria didnt know what it was, at first, but then, as she approached, she stopped.

Impossible.

She used that word so seldom, but she was proud of using it here. Incorrectly, obviously, but everyone used the word incorrectly. For what Wiskeria saw was impossible to some sensibilities.

She saw a tiny object, lying as if it had fallen on the piece of metal. It flashed lights at what she now realized were regular intervals. Not one color. There were three, and the little box with the slanted top and bottom was so small she could hold it up like a lantern.

Which is what it was. But there it shone.

Green, yellow, red.

Green, yellow, red.

The traffic light? It hung in her grip by a little loop, like a lantern, and brightened as she picked it up. Wiskeria felt a chill run down her arms. She began to sense a connection, but then she heard that voice like the falling of an axe blade.

Like a Hedags smile. She whirled, and the lantern shone with all three lights, no longer flashing the single pattern. It grew brighter, and at last she saw what this place was.

The first thing she saw was the axe. And it was the axe. Hedags axe was in this place. Or rather

The idea of the axe. If you had no understanding in this place, it might be impossible to comprehend the connection. Wiskeria saw a long piece of rusted steel, tarnished and red in many places, rising from the ground. It had the shape of the axeall in metalbut the single piece branched out.

As if a tree made of rusted metal were growing from the red water filled with rust and blood. The tree was made up of smaller axes, each blade similar in purpose, sometimes not in design. Hafts of wood transmuted to ancient metal. They dripped with blood.

Most of the axes were broken. In factall of them were. The tree had grown fairly tall, such that it was perhaps thirty feet tall in Wiskerias perception. Similar to a tree of her worldbut dying.

Every single branch was broken. Red blood dripped from the broken branches, like blood. The entire thing wasperishing. Save for one thing.

A blade, an axe only slightly tarnished, shining bright among the foliage of this strange thing. Thisidea, this sentience. One spark of growth in biology so alien it could not really be called biology at all.

But Wiskeria understood it. She stepped back, for she knew what she saw. Then her lantern swung, and she saw them all.

Look and see. A throne sat among hundreds of its kind. A throne that sparkled with glass and the sun. It was adorned with familiar, golden colors that Wiskeria knew.

She had seen it on the Thronebearers arms. And indeed, the Eternal Throne of Calanfer looked like the seat that sat in reality. Buttwisted. It was an amalgamation of more than the actual throne; it had corroded metal in places, and it sat in the bloody water. Smaller than many of the thrones.

Some were broken. Many were. One made of root and vine had calcified to dust, and the pieces lay in the water. Wiskeria had kicked some aside. The Eternal Throne was intact, but pieces of it were

Corroded? Could Truegold corrupt? Only that would explain the pitted surface, the unnatural decay in the metal itself. Yet other parts glittered.

Beautiful, awful. Most of the thrones were like that. They grew, some so vast they overshadowed Wiskeria and the tree of Hedags axes by far. And still, they had fallen to ruin or decayed.

Almost no throne was without rot in one place. Only a few were truly beautiful, without flaw. Andthey were one among countless thousands.

Most of them dead. Wiskeria saw the things shed run into were made of metal, rusted, fallen to pieces in this place. Broken, no longer resembling what they had been.

Strange trees who rusted. Pieces of metal, even what looked like gears of Pallass, formingWiskeria stared into the eye sockets of a dead creature that looked the most like a beast that she had seen. She turned, and the lantern winked its tri-color light.

Theyre dead. So many are dead.

Wiskerias arm shook. There was death in this place. This place was a morgue. There were so many deadwhat? She looked at Hedags tree, then at the thrones, then towards one of the things towering so high she had thought they were walls to a pit. Up, Wiskeria looked. And up. And up

And she saw a single thing towering above her. It was a single object, so vast she thought it eclipsed the High Passes. It was made of many, many tiny things.

Skulls. The head of a Drake encased in rusted steel or whatever it was. A Gnolls face. Humans and Dullahanseven Selphid bodies woven into the vast eye staring up at the sky and weeping the blood that formed this world.

The oldest of all. Still intact, but so broken that it informed the others. And what were these? Wiskeria looked around, and her heart beat wildly, for she recognized these things. They were like the old man, but different.

Laws. Are youlaws?

They groaned, like metal and ancient gears, and now Wiskeria tasted oil on her tongue. Oil and rust and blood and

She looked at Hedags tree and saw it differently. She saw the falling axe, that smile from generation upon generation of Hedag.

A tradition of Izril and Terandria. The law of villages and places where no [King] nor [Lord] nor Watch was present. A judge and arbiter and executioner in one.

HEDAG.

It was a terrible thing. A swinging blade that had no mercy, that cut deep where it went. Yet necessary. Some had been poor Hedags, and she saw black rot on their branches. Some had been great and built this thing larger, this idea, an amalgamation of time, law, andbelief.

But the tree withered. The Hedags axe only shone on one branch.

The law of the Hedag was passing away. If Hedag now diedthis perished. Wiskeria could not have said if it were good or evil, for she thought that the axe buried in the bloody ground would cut her in twain if it found her unworthy. Without mercy or compromise.

Yet she found it beautiful, and then she turned and beheld the rest.

The Eternal Throne was an idea. The kingdom? A set of laws. The enforcement, the crownthe lives of mortals were one thing, but the idea of the Eternal Throne of Calanfer was something that had existed for six thousand years. It had a weight on the world, and that weight was reflected here.

Yet it was corrupt. She saw it in the beauteous throne. She saw where law had been subverted and the rot set in.

Some thrones were completely engulfed by it. She recognized some sigils embedded in fleshy growth eating at the metal. A few were so twisted that they barely resembled thrones, and some had been infected from the start.

She saw a bulbous plague in this place. A rotten nest of good intent. But it had long, long since been twisted. Now it was murdered.

Spikes of stone had hammered apart Tombhomes old laws. The immortal flesh still smelled sweet, buthad the beings of this place destroyed it themselves? For it was corrupt. It had been from the start. It was made of Actelios Salashs flesh.

But even that Carven City had nothing to eat here. Everything was stone and metal. Immutable things, in theory. Wiskeria looked up at that vast eye staring sightlessly at the sky and felt at her own left eye. Then she saw it.

Death.

One of the oldest laws in existence bled from the countless lives that had made it. The oldest idea of civilization; the oldest consequence.

Death. An eye for an eye. If you break the lawthen you will die. The tallest laws in this place were that simple. A twisted hand curling around half of this reality, severedgrasping, protecting much of the laws from the void beyond.

Possession. What is mine is mine. Then Wiskeria looked down at the object she held and recognized it again.

The traffic light. It shrilled at her with that tongue from another world, a concept like the chirping of traffic lights that Laken Godart knew. Tiny. A babe as these things understood it.

Perhaps it would growor like the countless objects buried in the ground, it would die before it even grew. Attempts at civilization, ideas crunched under Wiskerias boots wherever she went.

This was the world of law and, perhapscivilization. But it was a terrible, frightening place. There was no gentleness here, and rust overtook all but the most shining ideals.

Look there. A throne of Khelt stood almost untarnished, made of sand and the weight of bone, cast in brass. But it had cracked. Cracked almost in half, and it was held together only by will.

Wiskeria could have wept for Khelt, for all these failed dreams. Millions, billions of lives had made them unwillingly. She looked at the lantern and then, at last, heard the whispers.

She had missed them because she didnt realize who spoke to her. She had missed them because they were so deep they sounded like the shift of the earth itself, like the voice of tectonic plates. She was too small to encompass them normally. Here?

They spoke, and her ears bled. They spoke, and Wiskeria saw.

They were the enemies of her mother. They were the enemies of monsters and chaos. They were not united. Some laws contradicted each other. They warred and grew and died here. Striving to create something beautiful out of this wasteland of ideas. And they grew amidst filth, amidst foul desire and ill deeds.

Even so, some were beautiful and simple. Some were unsullied, and they tried. An endless war against everything that had seen great victories and setbacks.

They knew her. She was her mothers daughter, and the Witch had torn so many of them down over time. She had been the corruption in thrones. If they could havethey would have slain her, and nations had tried.

But these things had no power. No voice, only a wrath locked in this place. They sometimes, rarely, had outlets, but they had lain helpless. Helplessuntil her craft was revealed and called to them.

After allWiskeria fell to her knees as the lantern shone and the laws called to her.

She was a [Witch]. And they wanted her to speak them to the world.

Then she saw it, and her eyes, green and yellow, like a plain field of daisies, turned red as she wept tears like the liquid in this place into the ground. Her nose and ears ran with blood, and Wiskeria felt a dozen hands grabbing at her, like shadows.

She was dying. Death spoke to her, and Wiskeria felt blood vessels rupture. Yet

I hear you.

They wanted something from her. Wiskeria smiled through bloody teeth. Smiled and smiled as [Witches] hauled her back. She looked down at the bright lights.

I agree.

Then she felt a crow flapping its wings, a burning hand on her shoulder, and the Hedags law howled in triumph as a hand as dainty and firm as steel itself took her and

Wiskeria opened her eyes. Then she began to cough, and she was deaf and blind. Blood ran from her ears, down her throat, and a dozen hands were on her.

We have her back! Hedag, the axe!

Agratha shouted, and Hedag raised Master Helms hammer with eyes that sparked with cold intent. She lifted the hammer high and brought it down upon her very tool

Stop!

Hedags arm jerked as Wiskeria screamed. The other [Witches] recoiled as Wiskeria threw out a hand. Wiskeria spat blood from her mouth and realized they had taken her inside the smithy.

Stop. Stopdont break it. Its yours. They didnt harm me. It didnt harm me. They were just too loud. As vast as an idea even beasts understand. Even when they whispered, it was enough to overwhelm me. Do insects have laws?

She was babbling. The [Witches] stared at her, and Erin knew the answer to the question.

Wiskeria. What happened?

The [Witch of Law] sat there. Then she wiped at the blood coming from her face. She felt at her ears and realized her eardrums were not burst; a relief. She stood shakily.

She felt alive. Alive and giddyand terrified! How long had it been since? She smiled with bloody teeth, and Agratha eyed her worriedly. But Erin saw the smile as Wiskeria laughed.

I met Elementals. I needI needMaster Helm!

She looked around, and someone jumped in the crowd that had gathered to watch another mysterious event happen. Helm flinched as everyone turned to him.

Witch Wiskeria? Can I help?

Strike a fire into your forge, Master Helm! Bring me steel. I need you to make something. Hurry!

Helm froze up. One look at Wiskeria, running with blood from every orifice like some victim of a horrific attack, and he was sure he didnt want part of that. She was smilingwhich made it worse.

Wiskeria, stop and explain what you intend. You nearly died. We pulled you back when you began to bleed.

Even Eloise was concerned. Yet Erin saw Wiskerias urgency, and she felt a tingling in her bones. Excitement in the air. Her craft called to her. Not Wiskerias, but informed by the look on Wiskerias face. So Erin raised a hand, and a spark of pink and strange flame that shimmered and dazzled the eyes with a series of colors sparked across her fingers. She flicked it into Helms forge, and a mundane fire roared up. Then Erin spoke.

Shes a [Witch] about her craft! Dont get in her way!

Every single other [Witch] turned to look at Erinand then Hedag took her axe, regarded it, and touched the brim of her hat.

A [Witch] speaks! You heard her! Flame and steel, Master Helm!

She tipped her hat to Erin, and the [Innkeeper], laughing, tipped her hat right back.

By the time Laken Godart got there, the forge was in full operation. Helm and three other [Blacksmiths] were working on something, piecing red-hot metal together, casting the discarded slag aside as Wiskeria ranted and raved.

Mrsha was there too, and they stared as Wiskeria shouted.

No, a smaller fit! Almostwere almost there! Bring it to me, Mister Prost! Cut it down if you must, but I need both body and vessel!

Whats going on? Wiskeria?

Lady Rie went to find out what was going on, but Laken Godart could sense it. He found Witch Eloise, who gave him a summary of the events as she saw them.

Wiskeria was approached by aa power in Riverfarm not half an hour ago, Your Majesty. She made contact with it.

Power? What kind of power?

Laken was instantaneously alarmed, but he relaxedslightlywhen Eloise told him about the axe.

We believe she encountered Elementals.

More Elementals? And shes binding one? No more.

Laken was adamant, but Eloise hesitated. She glanced at Wiskeria.

You may have to physically subdue her to stop her, Your Majesty. Nor are these Elementals of the kind that are in the river. These areperhaps worse. Perhaps better.

What are they, Eloise?

For answer, the [Tea Witch] spoke as the glowing traffic light was ported to the blacksmiths working on a small creation in steel.

Elementals of Law.

She said it as if she couldnt believe it herself. Mrshas eyes widened, and she thought about what that meant. So did Laken. That didnt sound so bad?

Mrsha was running for the guest houses. Nope. No thank you.She had a better idea of what kind of Elemental that might mean. And even the [Druid] could sense something coming.

There was a lot of power in the air. Laken felt like he was staring at a sun. Orthe fingers of something pressing across reality. He felt like backing up.

Justjust how easy would it be to stop her?

The real question isdo you want to make an enemy of that? You sense it too, Your Majesty?

He did. And he did not want to make a foe out ofLaken bit his tongue as the traffic light appeared. Even the most innocent of ideas turned into this! He had no doubt it was part of it all

All three lights were shining bright, like spotlights into the air. And he was sure Nesor hadnt enchanted that.

Evacuate everyone who isnt needed from the smithy. A hundred feet. At least. Summon Beniar, and put a blade in everyones hands. Ask the Goblins to get ready forsomething.

Laken made his decision fast. The [Witch of Law] was reaching out, pulling something across the void like Erin had. But what?

A thousand forces reached out across a void even further than the one the Seamwalkers had climbed. And as thin as an idea.

They were old and young. Weak and strong enough to bend reality across a hundred civilizations, as immutable as time, as corrupt as mortal ambitions and sin.

They needed Wiskeria. And sheshe longed for them. She was a [Witch], but one of law and justice and order. Only she could hear them, and they had screamed their will a hundred million times over the ages to any who might listen.

Even so. Their voices had grown louder only when the right conditions were met.

A vessel. An instrument emblematic of them that could anchor their spirit. Not a throne. Nor a book. Instead, the metal box, the streetlight of unchanging signals.

It had screamed to Wiskeria, but she could not see. Nowdesperatelyshe tried to reach out, but she had to anchor them in both physical form and understanding.

How could a law be a thing? How could you believe in a law like you believed in the spirit of a river? They were nothing you could see. They were ideas.

And Wiskeria was weak because she believed in nothing true nor anything real but her mothers magic. The connection wavered.

Then, the [Witch of Law], as she held the burning steel, as she reached into that graveyard of ideas and intentsaw the [Innkeeper] watching her.

The [Innkeeper], not the [Witch of Second Chances]. She looked back and remembered their conversation on the rainy night as Erin began to realize what it was to be a [Witch]. And she looked forwards and saw it.

Lost amidst the blood and decay. Like a growing plant, a strange tree as stubborn as the mountains. Small, so tiny it had barely taken root. It grew, green metal and wild, uncompromising fire. A law, lost amidst the multitudes that had never taken shape.

Yet still, it grew. And it was that certainty in her eyes. The will to impose a law upon the entire world. It rose like mercy, newly forged, and Wiskeria read it as she understood.

No Killing Goblins. Then a wild smile was on her lips. She reached out, understanding what it was to both desire something with all the helplessness in the worldand all the will. She pulled, and the lights shone uncompromisingly. A [Witch] who knew the oldest of ways. Touching the very soul of law itself.

Her craft. And the other [Witches] saw and bowed their heads as Wiskeria drew something out of thin air. An idea coming to rest in a body of steel.

The [Witch of Second Chances] watched, without running, as her friends skidded to a halt, as Gamel and the Thronebearers backed everyone off. They called out to her, but Erin just saw Wiskeria bending over a piece of metal still so hot it scorched her hands.

Metal, not gelatinous liquid. Metal, for something as immutable and as stubborn as

Law.

Then Erin heard a scream. A shriek that made the Goblins and Humans clap a hand to their ears. They began screaming back, in fear, for they had never heard a sound like that, and it disturbed them.

Some of thembut Numbtongue raised his head. And Inkar? She and Tkrn looked at each other as they stared at Erin. Inkar saw the [Innkeeper], whom she had described as a friendly hill, standing with the strange [Witch of Law]. She saw another great, terrifying mystery descend on the world.

Like Khoteizetrough, but as small as something you could hold hands with. Unlike the old man, the river, this was newborn, days old. And it screamed and wailed like a newborn babe.

In tones that reminded her of electronic sounds. The chirping of traffic lights, the artificial tones of a computer. A synthetic voice crossed with the old bones of metal.

A new being in a new world. Its cry ran through Riverfarm, and the rain ceased as the old man heard the voice and stoppedout of disbelief, astonishment

And fear.

Wiskeria lifted something up in her hands, and a bright blue light shone from a single eye. A rounded, perfectly geometrical opening in a tiny being of metal. Like the small version of the traffic light.

But this body had legs. Almost like a spiders, and Helm had fashioned a dozen little limbs, but only the legs had fit. Slowly, it rotated, the sharp tips of its feet digging into Wiskerias hands. She was burnt, bloody, but she felt none of the pain as she beamed down at the little Elemental of Law.

Bound to the traffic light of all things. The lights on the traffic light flashed in synchronicity with the little Elementalthen it returned to blinking red, green, and yellow.

After all, the rules of the street had to be enforced. The first agent of these powers gazed out at Riverfarms people. It looked around, and the light flashed red as it focused on the fleeing little Mrsha. Then it swung around, and the hostile glare intensified.

But the [Innkeeper] just bent over it, cooing, as the Elemental of Law made furious chirping, quasi-electronic sounds.

Oh my gosh. Its a robot!

It was sort of like one, or a magical robot. But the thing scuttled back and began flashing its angry red light at Erin.

I think it recognizes you as a foe, Witch Erin. Us too.

Oliyaya remarked, eying the little Elemental with distaste. It was inspecting everyone, and it already had opinions.

It did not like Alevica. But strangelyit seemed to beep at Mavika warily, and her raven cawed back. As if she were not completely bad. It scuttled over to Hedag, who backed away from it, but it was friendly to her. And Eloise. Agratha it positively liked as the [Witch] exclaimed over it.

And Lakenwhen the [Emperor] approached, flanked by his guards to demand what Wiskeria had done, the little lantern-being slowly sank onto the two foremost legs of its eight. It bowed to him.

Well, I quite like that.

The [Emperor] smiled as Erin put her hands on her hips in outrage. The Elemental of Law looked around, and Wiskeria turned to Laken.

Here, Your Majesty, is my craft. I see it now. I cannot take justice from Riverfarms folk, nor is law that easy to tame. But so long as people obey the lawsI shall have my magic. I am a [Witch] of a new kind of pact. A pact of ideas set against my mother and many kinds of [Witch]. We shall both see what the future holds.

A fitting [Witch] for an empire.

Eloise opined, and Laken nodded. He bent over the Elemental.

Can thisbeing do anything? Does it have a name?

Numbtongue was peering at the creature, who warily inspected the Goblins, with a good deal of distrust. It was a thing of law, after all, and it was no friend to Goblins. But they had laws, and Ulvama of all people got a little dip of the legs like a nod.

She regarded the Elemental of Law with pure horror and backed up behind the others. Erin was hurt by the little lantern-things distrust of her. She bet it would just love Zevara. For answer, Wiskeria shrugged. She tipped her hat and nearly toppled over backwards until Hedag caught her.

Steady, Wiskeria. Youve done a [Witch]s work, eh?

Hedag smiled, and Wiskeria beamed herself. Such an odd expression on her face because she wasnt good or used to smiling. But it was so genuine it put a smile on even the wary Riverfarm folks faces. They did like her, after all.

Thank you, Hedag. I dont know, Your Majesty. All I know isthis one is the first of many, perhaps. Ive taught the Elementals how to reach out. More pacts will be made by [Warlocks] and those who can hear. Any Elemental has power; I dont know what an Elemental of Law can do. A Water Elemental can purify water or fight. This one is small, but it will grow. A nameperhaps Riverfarm can come up with one?

Erin snapped her fingers.

Ive got one! How aboutTrafficlighti? No, Traffy!

The others looked at Erin, and the [Witches] slowly shook their heads. The enraged little Elemental began to blind Erin with flashes, and she backed up.

Okay! Im sorry. Im sorry!

What a strange day. There was no great flash of light or battle to herald Wiskerias work, but the Law Elemental was proof enough. The rain resumed, hesitantly, nearly an hour afterwards.

As if, perhaps, the Water Elemental in the river was reconsidering its wrath. It had sensed the Law Elemental, but it was old and the power of this interloper was weak. The rain was beginning to pick up, and the river remembered his anger. Now, he stoked it with the fury of another being opposed to him.

He would rise up and cover the land. He would erase this village and devour until he could create his own body. Now he knew howhe spat upon the banks where the [Witches] tried to stop him. He could grow faster than they could raise the land.

So he would kill them. Kill and

The old man in the river hesitated. Hesitated, as he sensed the being of metal and oil coming his way. And the two [Witches].

There were more, but he recognized those two. Wiskeria and Erin walked to the rivers edge as it roared and pushed against the levees, so high it was in danger of flooding the fields.

Old man. Old man, Ive come to offer you a deal.

One sweetly bent over the rivers edge. She crooned to him, and the old man in the river hesitated. This was the one who had ignored him for so long. She held the glowing being with an eye that blinked at him. A pathetic thing.

The river swelled. He reached up for herand Wiskeria drew a dagger. Just a dagger, but she let the Elemental of Law crawl onto one shoulder. Then she bent down, pulled part of the river up in an impossible surge of water as it roiled around her in shock.

Her craft glowed in her eyes as she stabbed the water. It rushed down around her hand as she let go.

The river felt that. Just a tiny prick, but it had never, ever been wounded. Now, the river suddenly fell silent, flat as glass, as Wiskeria bent over it. Smiling.

She had her mothers smile. But what was reflected in those eyes werent immortal rings, but a calm, plain world. A world without great magic where his kind died. She looked the river in the eye and spoke.

I offer you a deal, old man. Stop flooding. Stop raging, and lie quiet. Beg someone else, and never come to Riverfarm again.

And why would he do that? He was a river! The old mans fury was roused like the wrath of the forestsuntil he looked up and saw the oldest law behind Wiskeria.

Death.

The river quailed. Wiskeria bent low as the [Witches] and folk of Riverfarm watched, and her voice was only for him and the Elemental of Law and Erin.

Lie silent and still and go elsewhere, old man. Beg a [Mage] for help or wait until this place is bone and dust. But trouble me and I will call you into a body and murder you here and now. Law rules, not your watery kind. Every being will have their chance, and law will change and learn and grow. But trifle with Riverfarm and I will cut your heart out and feed it to this one. Do not make Law your foe.

The river trembled. He was old, and he had seen and felt the Treants leave this land when he was young. He remembered the forests, and he had heard the last Dryad die.

He just wantedhe wept as he sank, fearing the bright stare of the new kind of being, cousins as strange and alien to him as the folk who walked above him and swam his body.

Thensomeone else called his name.

An [Innkeeper]? No, a [Witch]. A young [Witch] with a hat above her head swinging with little chess pieces, awkward and hesitant. Guilty.

Im sorry!

The river stopped. The second [Witch] bent over him and called down as the [Witch of Law] stepped back, her threat made. Erin Solstice looked down, then looked at Wiskeria and her Elemental of Law.

Erins craft hung in the air. Wiskeria had some of her craft. It was in Riverfarms folk, even the [Witches]. It was so familiar that Erin had known itbut she had not given it a name.

What was it? Kindness? No. Glory? Again, no, these were things Erin had learned, but they were not at the heart of her craft. That was the stuff of [Innkeepers], and Erin wielded them well.

Something else was in her soul. A burning flame, of course. Second chances? Obviously. But what was all this made of? It was the most obvious answer. Erin reached out and pulled it in. In delight; she had caused it a hundred times. It filled her up and burst from her hands. It burned, a strange flame.

Not one color, but like the color of the night sky. Like the stars raining down across her [Garden of Sanctuary]. A translucent, dark flame, like the night sky, shot with streaks of color, from pink glory to pale grey mercy and sadness and guilt and more. Her craft.

Wonder.

Erin pulled it into her, and then it was all around her. A burning flame, making Wiskeria back up and the Elemental of Law hiss at her. She heard a call as she apologized to the Elemental of the River for what shed done.

Im sorry

Erin? Erin!

Of all the times! Erin looked up, and Lyonette screamed at her.

Your hats on fire!

What?

Erin looked up and yelped. Her hat had caught fire! The cloth was blazing with magical fire. Erin grabbed it frantically, and her hand passed straight through the burning flames.

The poor cloth Agratha had gifted her was long since eaten up by the wondrous flame. Wiskeria looked at Erins hat. A flaming hat, pointed and made of fire, was burning across Erins hair. The [Witch of Second Chances] felt at itand the wonder burned brighter. Then she began to giggle and laugh.

Showy, but it suits her. Dont you think?

Agratha was nodding along as she watched with the other [Witches]. Hedag just threw her head back and laughed.

Now there is a [Witch]s hat!

It burned as Erin turned back to the river. The old man stared longingly up at the [Witch] of flame and wonders, reflected on his face. She bent down and whispered to him.

Im sorry. I was cruel to you. I always am. You dont understand good or evil. Drowning people is bad, to me. I cant let you run wild. Youre dangerous.

Behind her, the [Witch of Law] nodded. The river wilted and wept. But he understood. Erin wiped at her eyes.

He was so lonely. She understood that. Her voice wobbled.

I cant bring the forests and all your friends back. Im sorry. But I do believe in second chances. Not third.

Erin?

Wiskerias smile vanished. The Law Elemental beeped warningly, but Erin drew something out of her bag of holding.

I know you just wanted to see us. SoIm going to give you a little gift, okay?

Erin, dont you dare give him a body

Wiskeria raised her knife as the Elemental of Law turned red. But Erin was too quick. She threw something into the river, and the greedy water grabbed it. Wiskeria lungedand stared as a round ball of crystal sank into the water.

What thea scrying orb?

The glowing ball was flashing with a laughing Drakes face as Drassi sank into the depths of the river. The greedy river had no concept of a scrying orb.

No one had ever left a scrying orb inside it. Nor could it really understand a single orb in its water. But Erins craft filled it as she poured all the power shed taken from her audience into it.

Wiskeria looked at Erin. The Elemental of Law was trying to project a beam of hostile light into her hair, but Wiskeria covered the eye with one hand. Thenthe muddy river was receding. Lowering, as the old mans wrath abated.

Riverfarms people watched, even Cade. The boy was afraid of the river now, but his eyes widened as he peered out of Brigandas arms.

Forthe entire river, that long stretch of water, as smooth as glass right nowsuddenly lit up. And it began to glow like a mirror, and suddenly, Drassis face shone across it. As if the river were the scrying orb.

She was taking lessons from a [Chef] in Pallass in a cooking segment. The scrying spell lit up the entire river as Wiskeria looked at Erin.

Did you know that would happen?

Erin winked at her.

Nope.

The river fell. The promised wrath never came, nor did it turn into a roving Elemental. In the days to come, people would be wary of it and the levees would still rise, for it was a wild thing of ancient times. Children would be cautioned to be very careful of the river.

All this was fair, even if the old man did not strike at Riverfarm again. But the one thing that would define him and give him a new nickname in the days to come was a strange phenomenon.

They called him the Scrying River, because now and then, one of the television broadcasts would appear for as long as a mile on the water, and a passerby could watch the news on his surface.

All because of one [Witch]. But thenErin was not the only one. She had given a river something to watch and learn from. In the days to follow, Wiskerias craft would be even more notable.

Visitors coming to Riverfarm and seeing the new traffic lights would be instructed as to their simple usage. It made traffic easier, and with the new road lines, traffic jams were less frequent.

But bad and hasty and careless drivers still existed. So someone running a red light or improperly turning would break that law of trafficand hear an enraged shriek. Then they would look up and see a being of metal glaring and shining a light on them from on top of one of the hanging traffic lights.

The Elemental of Laws power was mostly to shame someone. It would scuttle after a dog relieving itself on the sidewalk if its owner didnt pick up the waste. It stared and shrilled at someone breaking traffic laws or tossing trash on the ground.

It was the most annoying thing in the world, but it was young. And growing. What it becamewell, that was for Riverfarm to see.

Much love to them. Really. Erin found a lot to admire in Riverfarm. From the friendly people, the tolerance to Goblins, and, she had to admit, the [Witches] themselves.

But it definitely wasnt her place. Nor did she think she and Laken were on the same page. They would best be described as how Erin liked Wiskeria.

Someone who was slightly opposed to her viewpoint, but who she could respect. That was a good way of seeing it. It was hard for Erin to be humble, sometimes; she liked doing things her way.

But she felt like shed learned a lot from the [Witches]. As Agratha pointed out, Erin had a lot still to learn.

Fundamentals, my dear. Fundamentals. Cant you stay another week?

I, uh, have to get back. I heard something crazy is happening back home. Theres yodeling Drakes, and Im missing it!

Erin had spent three more days in Riverfarm, not blowing anything up or causing chaos. She actually felt bad about going, but she knew she had to. Agratha sighed.

Well, we may have to send some teachers to help you out. As a [Witch] to another [Witch], of course. Liscor does seem like a fortuitous place to be, and as Wiskeria proves[Witches] can be parts of cities.

Not I.

Mavika croaked, but even she nodded to Agrathas statement. Their class was changing. Oliyaya chuckled.

Perhaps I shall send Alevica to visit and impart lessons and gifts.

Er, no, thats fine.

Master!

Alevica protested at the same time as Erin. She was going and saying her farewells to everyone. But what was notable was who was going with her group. And who was not.

Numbtongue was clasping arms with Leafarmor and Raidpear, and Gothica was jabbering to some of the Goblins whod begun adopting her style. Ulvama stood, ignoring Pebblesnatch as the [Cook] waved and sniffed into her apronuntil Pebblesnatch ran over and hugged her leg. Then Ulvama patted her head.

But Pebblesnatch was not coming with Erin. Nor were the other Goblins. Shed asked them, and they were staying. Even Laken was mildly surprised as he shook Erins hand.

I thought one would go, at least.

Theyre your people.

Erin couldnt meet Lakens eyes, so she tightened her grip slightly.

I guess they trust you enough to stay. Take good care of them.

I will.

He returned the grip, and the two glanced at each other. Theyd had a few words in private, and Laken sighed as his head turned to survey Erins companions.

You have been the more interesting and delightful of the two visits Ive had fromfriends from home, Erin. Less casualties than when Ryoka visited, but my invitation stands if she ever comes by.

Erin snorted. They were loading up the carriages as Inkar shook Prosts hand and he gave Garia a huge load of seeds and goods for Wailant. Lyonette was talking to Eloise, and Mrsha?

Mrsha was inspecting a little [Witch] standing alone, looking lost. Laken and Erin turned as Nanette waited by the carriages.

That was the last thing. Laken and Erin walked over, and the goodbyes halted as Erin bent over.

Nanette? Are you sure you want to come with me? Its your choice.

If Mother wanted me to, Ill go.

The little [Witch] whispered. She had sat with Nanette an entire day and tried to talk to her about Califor or ask her how she was feeling, but it was as if she werent reaching Nanette. The girl stood like she had sat, alone, even with Mrsha right next to her.

The little Gnoll girl was staring pointedly at Laken, and even if the [Emperor] couldnt see it, he could sense the stare. So he knelt.

Nanette.

Yes, Your Majesty?

Laken opened his eyes, a rarity, as if hoping to see her. His voice was kind as he spoke.

The [Witches] tell me you bear a heavy, heavy burden. So heavy its crushing you, but they cannot take it away. Because you are a [Witch], you carry it like a real thing.

He meant her hat. Now, Erin sensed it. She looked at Nanettes cute, pointed hat, and it seemed like the heaviest thing in existence. The little [Witch] hung her head, and Erin didnt know how she stood.

Yes, Your Majesty.

Do you have to carry it, Nanette? Can you let it go? It will be your end, Eloise tells me.

The [Witches] nodded as one. They looked at Nanette along with Riverfarms folk. The girls blank look turned into something closer to a stare in this reality. She gazed at Lakenthen slowly tipped her hat up.

The rains had long since gone from Riverfarm, and the autumn day was sunny enough. The mud had long since dried, and the overflooded areas were recovering slightly.

But as Nanette tipped her hat up, water fell. It rushed from her hat, as if the entire river were encapsulated there. It poured down around her hair as Laken jumped and stood. A rushing torrent spread across the ground, rushing past Mrsha, the surprised Goblins, and the [Witches]. They stood as it poured over Nanettes head.

Water without end, for fifteen, sixteen seconds. Then she lowered the brim and stood, dripping. Erin was drenched, but not by rainwater nor river water.

Tears. And there were more under Nanettes hat. So many it seemed like her neck would break. Her face was blank and empty.

I cannot take off my hat, Your Majesty. Nor remove them. Im sorry.

Your class came to you too soon.

That was all Agratha said, and there were tears in her own eyes. Hedag lowered her head, and Nanette shook her head slightly.

All Laken did was exhale. He looked down at Nanette, and his own eyelashes fluttered, and he brushed at them. Then he glanced at the little girl watching him and nodded.

You were right, Mrsha.

Every head turned to Mrsha, with suspicion and wrath and sudden nervousness. But the girl sat there, waiting. Laken looked down at Nanette.

Nanette Weishart. In deference to the will of Califor, whom I consider both savior and hero of Riverfarm, the great [Witch] of her era, I will let you go wherever you wish. Riverfarm will always welcome you, but it occurs to me that you may see no relief. No rest, so long as your hat hangs so heavy. Your very class weighs you down, and I fear you will drown. SoI have been told that there is something I can do for you. By a very wisevery connected young girl.

His head turned sardonically, and Nanette looked confused. Laken slowly held his hand out.

I am an [Emperor], Nanette. While you stand here, you are still a citizen of the Unseen Empire. That is the pact your coven has made with me. If you wish itI will remove your class.

Erins eyes widened. The [Witches] looked at each other, and a murmur rose from those listening.

An [Emperor] could do that? Only Ulvama didnt seem surprised, and Eloise and Lyonette. But they all watched as Nanette stared up at Laken.

My class? ButIm a [Witch].

I know. You dont have to be. It may be easier for you. It is your choice. No one will force you.

Nanette raised a hand to her hat. Her hands, so still, suddenly trembled. A note of emotion entered her voice. Uncertainty. Fear.

Itsits heavy. But its my hat. My mother made it for me. Its my class.

Laken waited. Nanette shook her head. She backed up.

No. Its my hat. Itsall I have left.

She would have turned and fled, Erin was sure, but someone else spoke. Erin was searching for the right words, and it turned out she didnt need to. Not yet. She would, but Wiskeria stepped forwards.

Nanette.

The girl whirled to her as if afraid Wiskeria would snatch her hat away. She clung to the brim with her hands, but Wiskeria just looked down at her.

It is killing you. You bore happiness well, but not sadness. Califor would

She wouldnt take my hat! Not ever!

Nanette shouted back, a note of desperation in her tone. She stepped back, and Wiskeria shook her head.

Of course not. She would never do that. But I think shed be quite sensible. Do you know what I think shed say?

What?

The girl stared up at Wiskeria through wretchedly empty eyes. Brown and too old, now. Wiskeria looked down at her and hesitated. She turned, and an [Innkeeper] closed her eyes.

Erin Solstice whispered.

I thinkif Califor were here, Nanette, she would tell you this. A hat is a hat. A girl is a girl. If it is too heavy for you to bear nowput it down. Put it down and rest awhile. Then come back when youre ready for it.

The young [Witch]s head turned, and her fingers trembled, as if holding back a dam.

Pick it up later? Can I do that?

Of course you can. A [Witch] is always a [Witch]. Class or not.

Agratha herself said that, and Oliyaya nodded along with Eloise and every [Witch] present. Nanette looked at Laken. Her fingers tightenedand then, with a sob in her voice, she spoke.

Its heavy. Its so heavy I cant feel a thing. I cant let go. Can you hold it for me? Just for a bit?

Of course.

He whispered. Laken Godart reached out as Nanette slowly held up her hat. No water fell, but her arms trembled.

How do I?

Just accept it. You are no [Slave], nor is this a sin. Will you put it aside? Nanette Weishartdo you relinquish your class?

She looked at him. There was no ceremony, nor did Erin feel anything but a prickling, goosebumps on her skin. Like a trembling bubble about to burst? Like someone reaching out and lifting something impossibly light. With no substance. A hand, reaching out and touching the fabric of the world.

Nanettes eyes opened wide, but there were no tears. Nothingshe looked at Erin.

I cant feel anything. Yes. Just for a bit. I want to cry.

She let go of the hat, and it drifted down into Lakens hands. The [Witches] sighed, and the [Emperor] caught the hatthen his hands trembled. He tried to hold it, but the weight of that piece of cloth bore him down to his knees until it pressed his hands to the ground. It weighed him downuntil Nanette reached down.

She picked it up and stared at the blue hat, sewn for a girl. It was just a piece of cloth in her hands. She tried it on, and it slipped on her hair. Then she looked around.

I dontI dont feel a craft. I dont know what youre feeling, Your Majesty.

She looked about and met Erins eyes. And saw Mrsha looking at her worriedly. Nanette stretched and looked around.

I feel light. I dont feel a thing.

Tears were running from Agrathas eyes, so she took her spectacles off. Eloise silently handed her a handkerchief, and Hedags smile was pained. Mavika bowed her head, but when Nanette looked at her anxiously, the [Crow Witch] spoke.

If you were sureyou were a [Witch] then and now. What will you do, Nanette?

I guess

The girl gulped. Now she looked uncertain and terribly afraid. Laken turned his blind gaze to her, and Nanettes voice wobbled.

Does shedoes my mother have a grave? I never even asked.

Califors grave was one of many for the people who had perished in Riverfarms fires. Laken had asked if a more suitable tomb would fit, and the [Witches] had claimed it should not matter. Her legacy mattered more than her resting place, so he had commissioned statues and ensured her story would not be lost.

The tomb was square and simple, because it had to be, because there were so many. Flowers decorated many, wreaths and gifts.

Califors was empty, brushed clean, but empty, as if waiting for Nanette to visit. The girl still had her robes. Her mother had made them. But she took that blue hat and placed it on top of the tombstone, just so, as if it were wearing the hat.

The wind blew, and the hat fluttered in the wind, but it didnt budge. It was far too heavy. Nanette bowed, spreading her robes out as if she were bowing to the [Witch] herself. Then she turned.

Ill come back for it. Alright?

It will be waiting for you.

The [Emperor] promised. Nanette looked back at the stone. She felt at her head, and her tangled hair was messy. But she looked lighter. She blinked around in the sun, and her stomach rumbled. She stared at the little Gnoll and then at Erin.

Thenand only thenshe seemed shy and afraid.

M-Miss Erin? May I ask a question? Is it an inn my mother wanted me to stay at?

Yes, an inn. Do you want to come? We can always come back. I promise.

Erin was suddenly terrified, anxious, and she wanted to reassure Nanette and say all the things the girl hadnt heard. But Lyonette nudged Erin aside.

Hello, Nanette. Im Lyonette, and Im very pleased to meet you. Your mother was a grand woman and a [Witch].

Oh. Thank youare you royalty?

Nanette shook her hand timidly, and Lyonette smiled.

Whatever would give you that idea?

Nanette peeked at the Thronebearers shyly, then Mrsha ran up. She held out a paw to shake, and the girl hesitated.

II dont mind going, Miss Erin. Your Highness. It feels like Im waking up. May I ask a question?

Her voice trembled as she looked around again. As if the last few months had been a bad dream. And she woke intoa cool autumn day and stared at the tombstone where her hat lay. Was it a better waking world or?

Go ahead. What is it?

Erin held her breath as Nanette scuffed her foot on the ground, embarrassed.

Wherewhere is Liscor?

Halrac Everam watched as Nanette slowly packed her things into the carriage. She did not have much; she was used to travelling with her mother, so she had only a small bag of holding and a rucksack.

Briganda was crying again. The instant Nanette had asked Laken to take her class, shed started and never stopped.

It was quite, quite annoying because the [Shieldmaiden] had a hiccuping sob that was very loud, and Cade kept telling her it was okay. Then he began crying.

It was not the moment that Halrac wanted to say goodbye to Erin in. He longed for a private place to say something.

And as if she knew it, the [Innkeeper] walked towards him, looking shy and concerned that Briganda was there. But the [Immortal Moment] that had begun, to let Nanette say all the things she wanted to the other [Witches]. To her mother

It enveloped him. Erin came to a stop and shyly ducked her head to Briganda.

Hi, guys. Sorry I caused such a mess. Are you okay, Cade? I can step over here, Briganda

She pointed to the side, but Briganda lifted a hand as she blew her noseon a messy handkerchief.

Its okay. Its okay, alright?

She had forgiven Erin, and the [Innkeeper] looked relieved. She waved at Cade, looking so sad, but the boy just stared up at her, clinging to his mothers leg. He had never understood why it was Erins fault, and now he spoke.

You have a pretty hat, Miss.

Halrac glanced up in surprise. Erin was wearing nothing on her head. Her brown hair was untidy from being blown about by the wind. The [Hunter] had eyes almost as good as any son of House Veltras who had inherited their Skills and abilities.

Yet he saw nothing on Erins head. Until he shifted and the wind blewand he thought he saw it. Perhaps it was just a memory.

But that was her fire. The flaming hat still burned, flickering over the [Witch]s head. Erin beamed at Cade.

The trick is to never take it off. Im gonna go now, but Ill be backand you can visit whenever you want, okay? Just not in the spring, maybe. I dont want to get into more trouble.

Briganda looked blank, and Typhenous chuckled. Cade solemnly shook Erins hand.

Ill be a [Witch] when I grow up.

Now that made his mother nervous. But Erin just tipped her hat with a huge wink. Then she rose and turned to Halrac.

We didnt get to hang out as long as we wanted, did we?

She looked sad about that, and the [Bowman] shrugged, face blank.

These things happen. Im glad you levelled up and found yourcraft.

Im not!

Revi wailed, and to everyones astonishment, they saw she was sniffing. She stared at Gothica.

Ive met the only person with a sense of style here in this entire dratted continent and shes going off! Stay another week!

Erin laughed, but guiltily.

Im afraid youll have to visit us, guys. Or Ill finally upgrade that door. But either way, I promiseit wont be long. The inn is changing. So am I.

She stood in front of them, and none of Griffon Hunt could deny that. And that hurt Halrac most of all, because the girl who had not changed for so long was different before their eyes. Not worse, no. Not with flaming hat and certainty in her eyes, but she was different, and he was old enough to mourn that. And wise enough not to fear it.

But Erin just turned to Halrac, then she threw her arms around him. Typhenous chuckled as he watched, but this time, Halrac squeezed back a bit. They stood there for a while, until he felt like hed had a hug as long as you actually wanted to say goodbye.

It just took a bit of forever to do that. The [Witch] and [Innkeeper] stood back, sniffing, and Halrac looked at the girl walking towards the carriage uncertainly.

Take care of Nanette. She needs help more than anyone else right now. I think you might be what she needs. Laken would not let her go if he didnt think that.

Erin nodded, eyes serious. Then she reached out.

Halrac EveramIm going. Revi Cotton, Briganda and Cade Rishaw, Typhenousum, Typhenous?

She turned to him, and the [Plague Mage]s gaze twinkled with mirth.

Typhenous the Plague will do, Miss Erin. Or Typhenous the Face.

She gave him an exasperated look, then, solemnly, recomposed herself and nodded.

Typhenous Face.

He began laughing as Erin turned to them. Halrac rolled his eyes and found Revi was doing the same. But he listened as Erin took their hands, one by one, and spoke.

If I can help Nanetteyoure what Riverfarm needs. Youre the reason Goblins are walking around here. It wont be long before we meet. But youll come back. And when you do, Ill finally be able to give you the welcome you deserve.

The Gold-rank team looked at each other. Revi sniffed again. She took off her nose because it was runny.

Only you could make guarding a village sound heroic. Were not the Horns. Or the Halfseekers. Youyou take care of yourself. Alright?

Erin hugged them all one last time and turned to Halrac. He nodded to her, then paused. He felt embarrassed, but he needed a hint.

What are we supposed to do to become that team you want to welcome, Erin? I dont see many monsters or as many disasters cropping up here.

She gave him a surprised look, then wagged a finger scoldingly. Erin stepped back and gestured around Riverfarm. Her arms took in the [Emperor] observing them with blind eyes, Master Helm and the folk of the Unseen Empire, the [Witches], and even the watching Sariant Lambs.

Halrac! Everyone needs a home. Im glad I saw yours.

The [Bowman of Loss] opened his mouth to protest, and he looked around. This wasnt Windrestbut he saw his folks gazing at him. He saw Pebblesnatch watching anxiously, as if afraid Erin would take her favorite adventurer away. Then he staggered as if she had knocked him over with a word. He really was slow on the draw today. He looked at Erin, and she pointed at him.

If Im wrong, Im wrong. But it seems to me like you guys are putting down roots. Trees get up and walk and hit people, or so Ive been told. But Griffon Hunt might be stronger for Riverfarm.

Then she was waving and Mrsha was clinging to Halracs boots and asking if they could take just him. And he reached down and picked her up and hugged her and told her hed be back. To visit.

It was a promise.

Everything was going to be different. Nanette sat in a carriage and knew that truth. But [Witches] knew these things, and a little girl, Mrsha, gripped her hand and kept glancing at her to make sure she was okay.

Lyonette was speaking about rooms and friends and the city, and Nanette saw the [Witches] standing there. They tipped their hats to her as the carriage began to move away.

She left her hat behind. It sat on the tombstone, and Nanette felt light. She felt alive, and she saw the anxious [Witch of Second Chances], the [Magical Innkeeper], watching her.

Suddenly, Nanette wanted to know how Erin had met Califor, properly this time. She was hungry, and her feet hurt, and she felt thin, and her robes were smelly from not being washed for a while.

Miss Solstice?

You can call me Erin, Nanette. In fact, youve gotta if were living together. Miss Solstice is, like, my moms name.

Erin smiledthen froze and looked guiltyand a Goblin wearing black kicked her so hard in the shins Erin swore. Nanette stared fearfully at Gothica, but then she felt the urge to laugh and had to hide it.

But she was no longer a [Witch]. So what came out of her mouth was hard to hide.

You really did meet my mother?

Erin looked up.

I swear I did. Her ghost was soso tough she kept me safe the entire time I was dead. And she kept talking about you. She made me promise to seek you out, even if you didnt like me.

Nanette nodded. Then she felt a prickling in her eyes. Not a twitching in her toes or a crawling of her skin. Tears, wet and mundane, began to spill from her eyes. She sniffedand her nose ranand the [Princess] gave her a handkerchief, and the girl, Mrsha, patted her hand anxiously. The [Innkeeper] looked at Nanette, a reflection of grief in her eyes. Nanette began to sob, but she asked.

Was shedid she look happy? Did she put a smile on other peoples faces?

She began to cry as they left Riverfarm. Cry and cry, but not without end. With all the grief shed been holding in her hat. Then she listened as Erin told her stories, and sobbed and ate and breathed.

All the while, a little Gnoll girl was patting her hand and telling her not to cry because they had a chocolate tree. Andand shed introduce Nanette to Visma and Ekirra, and they were going to be best friends.

The two were so upset that Ser Sest did the only thing he knew to do when a [Princess] was crying, and began to try and sing a lullaby, as if they were both six. Then Mrsha tried to attack him, and Nanette tried to pull the Gnoll off the [Knight].

Then she and Mrsha looked at each other, and both thought they saw a reflection, however strange. Nanette stopped crying and felt guilty. Until she realized she had years and decades and however long she lived and thereafter to cry.

She was so tired of it and so guilty at being tireduntil Mrsha solemnly took her hand. Then she began trying to explain who she was, beginning with her names, and she had many. Nanette bent over the writing Gnoll.

Whos Relc? Whos Gire-u-lashia? Are you sure theyll like me?

They had better. Or Ill stab them with a toothpick.

Mrsha puffed out her cheeks and stomach fiercely; she hadnt quite mastered posturing. But then she was asking what Nanette liked.

II do like sweet things. And flowers and herbs.

Then well go to Wailants first! Hes a [Pirate].

A [Pirate]? Ive only met a few crews.

Then Mrshas eyes went round, and she looked at Nanette. And she realized that she, Mrsha the Worldly, had a friend almost, possibly slightly more travelled than she.

As for Nanette? She looked at the kind, slightly presumptuous, certainly arrogant-as-an-[Emperor] girl sitting across from her. She realized something at the same time as Lyonette let out a breath shed been holding since the carriage started rolling.

Erin did likewise. The two whispered in the way of meddlesome adults, as if believing a witch and a Gnoll couldnt hear them.

You know, Erin. Mrsha doesnt have any friends who can always visit the inn. And I imagine its hard to be a young [Witch] roaming about as, uh, they do. This might have been a good idea after all. Did Califor think of this, do you think?

Erin smiled.

That was the first thing she asked meif my inn had any children in it. Were going to need a playground. Or, at least, explore some of the cool gardens.

Nanette looked up sharply, and everyone realized she had no idea about Erins gardens. Mrsha clung to her delightedly, and then the young witch felt it.

Once a [Witch], always a witch. Even if the walls of the box werent there. For the first time in a long, long whileNanette began to look forwards to something and stared out of the carriage.

It reminded her of walking with her mother and asking where they were going next. It might be scary or dangerousbut she had a vision of following Califor and humming a song. Nanette began to hum it now, and Mrsha listened, then joined in. A little nursery rhyme.

Onwards, onwards we go.

Over green pastures and field and snow

Where well end up, nobody knows

So onwards, laughing together down the road.

That was how the [Innkeeper] left Riverfarm. With a promise to return, with wonders and knowledge and deeds done, but no death, for once. It was a poor vacation, perhaps, but it was a start.

The party headed back to Invrisil and to Liscor. Two new souls, two new guests and parts of the inns family in tow.

Nanette Weishart, a girl with no class, wondering what she would do and when she would come back to claim her hat. But not afraid of the journey. She looked around at a strange family welcoming her in, and remembered how her mother smiled.

Two souls. A witch, and in the hamper containing all the now-eaten lunches for the ride back, a Sariant Lamb. A quiet traveller on a great journey of her own, for death and glory and salvation and terrible, terrible indigestion. But they only found the lamb the next morning.

Authors Note: With edits, 39,000 Words. It was about 35,000 after two days.

I think we have established something and it is this: I write better after my weekly break. Say what you will, but the power is there and I sprint without stopping. Hence me being weaker at the end.

But sometimes you get stuff like Valeterisas chapter at the end of a writing month. I think its about consistency, though. Sometimes I can write too much, so theres a negative on this side.

Here we are. Back to Erins story.

Writing is exhausting and its fun. I regretwell, I once thought Terry Pratchett was that madman who claimed it was enjoyable as the end product himself. I regret to say he was right. As always. Sigh.

Thats all from me. Ill try to tone it down next chapter, but who knows? Lets see what happens and try to make it a good trip. Thanks for reading.

PS: Taking ideas for the law elementals name. Toren was a good one. Can you beat uh, Trafficlighti? Someone suggested the Legis-light-or. Please, save this poor Elemental.

The Ivory Five, Zimrah, Gershal, and more by Lanrae!

Valeterisas Buisness Face by LeChatDemon!

DeviantArt: /lechatdemonStash with all the TWI related art:https://sta.sh/222s6jxhlt0

Crusader 57 by son.chapo, commissioned by /son.chapo/