10.45 L

<I’m back from my Iceland trip with an announcement—two more of our cast have appeared as plushies! Mrsha the Great Terribly Adorable and Bird the Huggable are now on sale on the store! You have advance notice as Patreons—I hope you love them as much as I do!>

https://store.wanderinginn.com/collections/new-arrivals/?ls=T3KjyuVRRt29CeMl5qVlM

Password (if you get a prompt):

MrshaTheSoftAndHuggable

 

 

 

 

When she opened her eyes, a girl understood. She rather did, just this one little insight. Without being so grandiose as to claim she was older or more mature, certainly not wiser—

Mrsha did think she got how Erin Solstice had felt after coming back from the dead. The head of red hair jerked out of her vision, and Mrsha pretended not to notice her and Nanette’s room door closing. She sat up, yawning, and a mess of brown hair ducked back down onto her pillow.

Nanette Weishart pretended to be asleep still, and Mrsha rubbed her eyes in her bed as the rain fell outside. She stared out the window a while and remembered seeing more souls than raindrops falling in the dark skies outside. Then she slid out of her covers and grabbed a toothbrush from the cup on her dresser.

She swabbed it in a half-empty jar of toothpaste and watched the rains fall as she began to brush.

I’m still buried in the Garden of Sanctuary. She had that intrusive thought like she’d had every single day. It felt like it needed to be acknowledged. Nanette coincidentally just woke up now and greeted her. The Gnoll girl held her mug out the open window and let the water trickling from the eaves pour into the cup. Then she drank, gargled, and spat.

A passing skeleton slowed as it hauled timber to the new foundations of the inn and peered up at her. She waved at it. For a second, she swore the skeleton almost let go of its burdens and waved back. Its arm twitched, and it gazed up at her. Add that to the pile of things to be concerned about, maybe. Mrsha didn’t know.

She was alive. The skies were rainy, but clear of death. There were fewer than ten people she loved on the imminent ‘may soon be dead’ list.

It was, all things considered, a pretty good day by her new standards.

 

——

 

Standards. You had to have them, but it seemed to Mrsha that everyone at The Wandering Inn had figured out how to deal with the impossible, like the dead coming back to life or horrific violence, after so many times of dealing with it.

You didn’t raise the standards—you lowered your own. Until you were grateful you were alive. That was what they’d done wrong with Erin, you see. Everyone had been both coddling her and expecting her to be the old Erin; they’d made her pretty miserable. And they’d all been pretending that worse wouldn’t come next.

Right now, it felt like everyone wasn’t under illusions. The inn still had a forcefield over the place where the common rooms met the hallway; Mrsha saw undead and [Necromancers] and a few curious guests trooping out of the blue barrier. It rippled like a bubble and let them enter and exit. What few guests there were; even the old regulars didn’t really come here. Not after what they’d seen. She hadn’t seen Menolit in six days, and he was one of the braver ones. Only the insane came here.

Adventurers, Antinium, Goblins, [Necromancers], Brothers—you know. The desperate, the lost, those without places. She thought it so appropriate.

“Breakfast! Hello, my little miracle.”

Lyonette hugged Mrsha and swung her around several times when the Gnoll came downstairs. She kept holding onto Mrsha, and the Gnoll girl held on for a while, long enough to surprise a [Spy] eating breakfast at one table. But neither one cared; when Mrsha was put down, she was shocked, nay, surprised, nay, shooketh to see breakfast.

“You always wanted to have another one, didn’t you? And Gire ate most of the first one you ever had. Well…here it is! The Archmage’s Well!”

This was an Erin-era recipe on the books that had been served in The Wandering Inn merely 16 times in its entire history. It was still on the full menus, but if you tried to order it, the wait staff would laugh at you, then call for Peggy, Rosencrantz, or Lyonette herself to ensure you really knew what you were getting into before purchasing it.

The list price: 8 silvers, 16 coppers. It had been the highest-priced item before cakes and other luxury goods like chocolates or pizza covered with decorative gemstones beat out the Archmage’s Well.

What was it? Well, the platter required Calescent and Elia to carry it out together. The concept was simple enough: you put pancakes together, the real heavy ones with structural consistency, and made a mountain of them. Then…you hollowed out the center. And you filled it with syrup.

WHIPPED CREAM FOR THE FIELDS OF ICE ON TOP. STRAWBERRIES LIKE TREES. EXTRA POINTS FOR FROSTING, BLUEBERRIES, AND OTHER CONDIMENTS. BUTTER? MAKE IT A RIVER.

The instructions were written by Erin and were in capitals near the end. Lyonette just stared at the Archmage’s Well with the mild horror of someone trying to process why she’d ever allowed it to be served once, let alone 17 times.

“Oh my. I’ve, uh, taken the liberty of inviting everyone to have a piece after we’re done—”

“The Well! The Well!”

Nanette and Mrsha were banging their utensils on the table. Guests and staff crowded around as Lyonette was handed a knife. She hesitated, trying to find a place to cut the monstrosity. When she did, syrup began dripping down the side of the pancakes.

“Enjoy, Mrsha!”

Not a word about Mrsha banging her utensils. Not a moment of hesitation as she gave Mrsha a piece. The girl ate one huge bite, rolled her eyes up in her head, and sat there a second. Then—she began to eat.

 

——

 

Three plates later, Mrsha couldn’t go for more. She wanted to, but one glance at Lyonette’s concerned face and she waved the plate away. Relc reached for a fourth plate.

“I can do it. I’m taking down the Well this time. C’mon, Valeterisa.”

Valeterisa had managed one and a half plates and peered queasily at her helpings. She turned.

“Montressa, apprentice—”

Montressa needn’t have ducked. With all the staff and guests, the Archmage’s Well was a mere foothill and easily devoured once Nanette and Mrsha had had their fill. Mrsha lay, groaning, as Lyonette dabbed syrup off her face. Colfa val Lischelle-Drakle patted her lips as she finished her strawberry-covered morsel.

“Vell, that vas a fine breakfast, Lyonette. And how do you feel, Miss Mrsha? Miss Nanette?”

“I think my stomach is going to explode. I might die.”

Nanette was trying to loosen her belt. She had on some blue suspenders—and no, Mrsha didn’t know where she’d gotten them—and a red t-shirt with an image of the Silver Killer on it. Lyonette didn’t comment on the attire. She just patted Mrsha’s stomach as the Gnoll girl held up a card.

Mother. I regret my wish slightly.

“And now you know better than to vant all your heart desires, no?”

Colfa offered Mrsha a pointed smile, and the girl groaned as Lyonette smiled at her friend. It was a lesson in disguise! Mrsha lay there until Lyonette reminded her.

“It’s time for school, Mrsha.”

Ser Dalimont already had Mrsha’s packed lunch ready and an umbrella. He was waiting at the door—Mrsha moaned her way after him. She only turned once to wave at her mother.

Wish me luck, Mother. I must multiply.

That was it. Nothing else grand in her day was planned. Truly. Mrsha staggered into line for the [Door of Portals], and Liska fast-tracked the Liscor group when she saw Ser Dalimont.

“Hey, Mrsha, you doing that school stuff? This Archmage’s Well is great.”

She was eating from her plate, then licking the syrup off as the door’s dial clicked around and people entered and exited, all without having to rise. Mrsha nodded at her, and Liska rolled her eyes.

“I’m glad I didn’t grow up in Liscor now. It sounds like it sucks.”

It’s sort of fun. If you want to learn stuff. Otherwise, it’s boring.

“Want to learn stuff. Hah. Ha. Hahaha—okay, everyone to Liscor, go ahead! It’s free from the inn. Anyone bound for other cities, enter! Remember, the fees are all written on the big signs, so if you can’t pay, get lost!”

Mrsha went to school. And the most exciting thing on her walk there was that she saw a bunch of election candidate posters. It looked like stiff competition in Market Street’s district against Krshia. Two other candidates: a Gnoll, Mister Retofur, who was the new Merchant’s Guild Guildmaster, and Miss Lassna, a Drake who’d emigrated here from the south.

Since she couldn’t vote, Mrsha went to school and found Ekirra bouncing a ball off his head and headbutting it to Kenva, who tried to return it. Visma had a new doll. And Mrsha…sat at her desk with her friends and stared out the window.

Daydreaming.

 

——

 

Only after Mrsha had left did Lyonette face Nanette.

“Nanette, your dress today…”

“Isn’t it interesting, Lyonette? I think it’s farmer-modern. And the Silver Killer t-shirt was being sold in Invrisil!”

“It’s dreadfully horrendous, Nanette. Well done.”

“Thank you, Lyonette!”

The two smiled at each other without rancor. As Mrsha had observed, they’d learned some lessons. One of the lessons Lyonette had learned was that she loved Nanette far more than she cared about how she dressed. Ielane had put better dressing by Nanette as a requirement…well, Nanette had her options to choose from and if that didn’t satisfy her mother, she wasn’t essential to Lyonette or the inn.

“My vord. People are wearing that image of Yvlon?”

Colfa eyed the screaming woman with arms like razors, seeming to be running off Nanette’s shirt. The witch pointed at it proudly.

“Lots of people like it! Mostly women. Not even young ones; I saw plenty of older ones buying it too.”

Lyonette snorted as she wiped at her mouth with a napkin.

“Do you plan on going shopping again today, Nanette? I intend to visit the Free Hive, but afterwards, I’d be delighted to go to Invrisil with you. Colfa’s coming with me to the Hive.”

“I shall be delighted to accompany you, if I do not hinder your style, Nanette.”

Colfa winked at the girl, and Nanette nodded after some thought.

“I’d love to visit the Hive. I did want to see what it was like—the only thing I’d like to do later is visit Hedault, if I may? He promised to give me a magic lesson.”

“Of course.”

And that was that. After a few minutes, Lyonette saw someone coming down the stairs. She waved.

“Kevin! You missed the Archmage’s Well.”

He covered his mouth as he came over. Kevin seemed rather hungover and not celebrating his new lease on life at this moment.

“That’s good, Lyonette. I think I’d hurl…I need a second hangover potion from Octavia. One didn’t do it.”

Lyonette eyed him, amused, as Nanette smiled and offered the remnants of her own plate.

“I’ve never heard of Octavia’s potions failing that badly.”

“Well—I was out drinking with Joseph, Rose, and Troy, celebrating me living, y’know? We were hitting stuff hard. Hey, Miss Colfa.”

“Kevin, if I drank your blood, how intoxicated would I be?”

She seemed amused, and Kevin held up a finger.

“Mostly hungover, I bet.”

They laughed at that. Kevin liked talking to a real Vampire, and she enjoyed not having to hide her nature around someone who knew the tropes. Come to that, Kevin was relaxed around them—it was when one of the Calanferians trotted over and bowed that he sat up.

“Your—Miss Lyonette, may we serve your party anything else? Mister Randy, would you care for anything this morning?”

“D’you have any hangover cures and, uh, bacon and coffee, please?”

Kevin waved a hand with a weak smile, and the man bowed and hurried to get it. Lyonette winced. She winced every time someone used his alias.

“Did you have to make your fake name Randy, Kevin?”

He scratched at one cheek, cringing.

“I’m gonna change it, I swear. It was really funny the first twenty times. [Second Life: A New Identity]…should I go with ‘Marty’?”

“No.”

The entire table chorused as one. Kevin sighed.

“I’ll workshop it. At least this way I don’t need a wig and face-paint or something weird like that. Or maybe I’ll just make it only work on spies and Roshal’s dudes.”

“They’ll find out who you are eventually, Kevin. All disguises fail in time.”

Nanette warned him, and the [Mechanic] scratched at his chin. An unfamiliar, steely look entered his eyes, and he took a gulp from a cup of water.

“Yeah. I guess they will. Well, Randy’s good enough for now. Hopefully that’s most of the people who want to celebrate me coming back from the dead.”

“I would assume it’s tiring after a while?”

Lyonette asked, not unkindly, and Kevin shook his head. He shrugged and regarded her, all seriousness.

“No, it’s just hard, Lyonette. It’s like dying twice, in a way. I see how much I mattered, and nothing I say is gonna undo how much it hurt—or keep it from cutting them open twice. Pelt and Hedault were some of the worst…Imani. I’d better do that after breakfast.”

He shook his head and almost made to rise. Then Lyonette did feel for him.

“Would it help if we came with you? We’re free today.”

Colfa and Nanette nodded, but Kevin just waved a hand, smiling in that familiar way. But older.

“No. It’s important for them and me. It’s just not easy. Not even for Troy. That’s…why it’s good to see. It shouldn’t be. Say, how good was the Archmage’s Well?”

“Pure sugar and pancake. Nanette and Mrsha liked it well enough.”

“Yuck. Thought so. That crazy Erin. Committing war and foodcrimes.”

Then Kevin sat back in his chair and stretched, and his sandy hair caught the light as he cracked his bones. Lyonette sat there, staring at another miracle. She savored it, and when she turned to Nanette and Colfa, neither one was in a hurry to rise.

That was the feeling in their bones. Not laziness, but just—a lack of restlessness. Deliberateness.

 

——

 

Lyonette prayed.

I don’t know how long this will last, or if we’ll even have a reprieve between this and the next event. But I hope we do.

She knelt on one knee on hard earth until she heard a voice speaking a benediction. Then, the simple wooden rows of seats creaked as people sat back on them.

Antinium save for three Humans and a Vampire. When Lyonette opened her eyes, the air in the Free Hive’s claustrophobic rooms seemed, for a moment, to shine like a vibrant sky overhead. But that was just the power of the speaker: Pawn.

He had on simple robes of white, and he carried no club, but the censer was the same. When she peered up at him, Lyonette imagined his eyes glowing white and two black pupils moving like pixels on a computer screen. She heard the thunder of hundreds of boots, the prayers of the faithful going to war—but she forced herself to listen to his soft voice and the silent prayers of the Antinium here.

It was different. So was his prayer.

“…and when you rise, know that we are one step closer to Heaven, both here and afterwards. Remember, Mottleshell’s Pet Café is a limited venue, and we must be content to wait and not crowd the animals. If it succeeds financially, we may hope for more, but do not spend all of your allotted income on pet cafés. Also, do be careful not to misplace your possessions; lost or stolen items are on the rise, and we must be vigilant with what we are given. Check market prices before buying from non-Antinium vendors, for being duped is for suckers, and we should not be suckers. Amen.”

It was such a simple way to end his sermon, but it was largely…practical. That was what shocked Lyonette. He motioned to her.

“And now our guests will offer this congregation prayerful, or perhaps simply musical, song. Lyonette, Miss Colfa, and Witch Nanette.”

Everyone turned to her, and Lyonette got up. Pawn was standing with Yellow Splatters and some of his [Acolytes] and [Priests]. She whispered to him as she stood with the other two.

“Fair market prices and pet cafés, Pawn? Is this what you pray for?”

His antennae twitched at her as his mandibles lifted.

“What else should one pray for, Miss Lyonette? Not everyone is fighting for their lives every day. A prayer for great and impossible things and a prayer for mundane needs is a good balance, I find.”

She nodded, then took a breath and smiled at the disconcerting rows of Soldiers, Workers, Painted Antinium, and even guest-Antinium from other Hives.

“Good morning! I’m Lyonette, from The Wandering Inn, and I’m delighted to lead this congregation in song. The three of us will sing, and if you are so inclined, please, join in. We have some copies of the lyrics…”

Antinium were staring at the sheets of paper in their hands, and when Lyonette nudged Colfa, the Vampiress licked her lips nervously. Possibly, she hadn’t thought singing for an Antinium congregation was scarier than just going into the Free Hive. But it was hard to fill the vast chamber with their three voices alone…

“Sing like we’re just practicing together. You help too, Ushar.”

The Thronebearer jumped as Lyonette glanced over her shoulder. Pawn nodded.

“We shall sing too, if we are not too off-key. You should take the first verse to show them how it is done, Lyonette.”

She nodded and closed her eyes. It wasn’t an Earth-song they sung, though there was plenty of religious music, apparently. This was just one that Colfa had taught Lyonette.

 

“I have roamed from every shore…

To Giant’s peaks, from the Kraken’s nests…”

Seeking a place to call my home.

To call my rest…”

 

It was a song that they sang up in Reizmelt called Izril’s Homecoming. A sentimental song about the continent that Lyonette had heard Barelle the Bard once play when he’d visited Calanfer’s courts.

The version Colfa had taught her was different from the one Barelle had played, and Nanette knew six different lyrics. Even the rhythm changed, apparently, but most versions of the song were very pleasing to the ear.

The three women sang slowly to start, and then their crooning voices deepened. Colfa’s was the lowest, and she could project her voice in the chamber, filling it; by contrast, Lyonette might lack for volume, but she had mastered pitch and control thanks to Ielane insisting all [Princesses] learn to sing for anthems. Nanette had the highest voice, which could effortlessly hit notes that Colfa and Lyonette struggled with.

At first, Lyonette feared that no one but Pawn and the priests would join in, and they weren’t…the best singers. Even Yellow Splatters, gifted with an amazing voice, didn’t have any real experience with singing. The congregation before them was silent—too nervous to join in, and the song faltered slightly with dissonance.

Then—someone stood. And began clapping their hands and sang. Sang with such force and enthusiasm that it outstripped the three women!

Singy, the Antinium who had sung with the Yoldenites, was a dedicated [Singer], and he drew other Antinium upwards like a wave, copying him. Then—they were joined by another female voice, and the uncertain voices became as strong as any choir in a moment. Lyonette gasped and almost lost her own place—

Bird. The [Queen]’s eyes shone as she linked with the Antinium choir, and they sang the lyrics as if they all had ten levels in the [Singer] class.

Nearly four hundred voices all singing Izril’s Homecoming nearly took Lyonette’s breath away. It wasn’t just the numbers, but the coordination and the reverberations of the room, which gave the song a resonance she’d never dreamed of. A style unique to her ears that made her heart beat faster and take notice.

When the last lyrics stopped echoing in the cavern, there was a long, respectful silence. She had never heard so many people singing, save for Calanfer’s national anthem during public events—and that was second-nature to her. Boring.

But this? She met Colfa’s gaze, and they shared the same thought. The Vampire leaned over.

“We’ve got to get a choir. And invite Bird and Singy.”

Lyonette just nodded in reply.

 

——

 

“Another kind of wonder was given to us today. That of music. Let that be a lesson to all, including myself. Thank you for attending—if anyone would like scraps of bread, please line up here. Thank you.”

Pawn dismissed the congregation, then faced Lyonette. He hugged her, and she smiled as Pawn gazed from her to Colfa.

“Lyonette, your presence here is extremely welcome. I have been wanting to visit ever since the Goblin King event, but Bird kept ordering me not to. It was highly distressing, but he…she said I would, and I quote, ‘freak everyone out’.”

His mandibles clacked in displeasure, and Lyonette sighed.

“Oh, Pawn, it’s not your fault.”

“Except that it very much is.”

Bird muttered as she wandered past them, staring around the Free Antinium’s barracks. Pawn glowered at her, and Lyonette sighed.

“We had a Solstice Event.”

“Oh no. I had presumed as much. But why not send for me? We could have helped!”

“We—well, for one, the Free Antinium would not have done much good for this one, Pawn.”

“What? Even without the 7th Hive or the [Crusaders], we would have made a difference!”

Yellow Splatters barked, hurt, and Lyonette shook her head.

“Not this time. And—technically—you were there, Pawn. You may wish to sit down.”

 

——

 

It took a long time to relate even an abridged version of the events to Pawn, but Nanette helped, being one of the people with the best insights into what Mrsha had done.

Lyonette rather feared that Pawn’s mandibles would fall off by the end—the other Antinium were equally astonished. Yellow Splatters kept protesting.

“Me? Condemned to Hell? Then resurrected by Erin, who was a Goddess?”

“Have you been eating suspect mushrooms grown by Palt, Lyonette?”

Pawn asked after a while, and Lyonette shook her head, smiling.

“I wish, Pawn. Mushrooms do not become Goblin Kings.”

“They do in one of the stories about space that Kevin told the Kevin-Antinium. But if that is the only other explanation that is logical…then this happened. I was a Level 60+ monster. With glowing eyes.”

“Very scary, but also sort of cool. You kept attacking Roshal, which was good. If strategically unsound!”

Nanette added. Lyonette feared that Pawn would take it badly or not believe her, but to her surprise, he just nodded.

“I see. That explains much. Yellow Splatters, begin a sweep.”

“At once, Pawn.”

“Hmm? For what?”

Lyonette sat up, and Pawn explained.

“There have been odd incidents among the Antinium of late. Some are…lazy? Or perhaps even committing crimes. Byproducts of our exposure to Liscorian culture. Our version of Aberrations, in a sense. But there were also other oddities—there were several Antinium who appeared to be Painted Antinium, but spoke oddly to my flock and the rest of the Antinium. They preached of a ‘Goddess’ and a ‘failed Prophet’. When I attempted to question them, they fled.”

Lyonette felt her stomach do a tiny hop. No more, really. She sighed.

“That…is not very surprising. Don’t treat them harshly, please? But don’t let them—influence you.”

“It sounds as if I should not, Lyonette. Fear not; we are all Antinium and thus reasonable people.”

A few weeks ago that would have been so much more reassuring. Lyonette smiled at Pawn, and he tried to urge her to tour the rest of the Hive.

“I can’t stay all day, Pawn. I promised I’d take Nanette shopping.”

“Oh, I see.”

Pawn grew visibly disappointed, and an Antinium behind him desperately started shuffling cards in their hands. Pawn took a step back to read a new card offered to him. Nanette, who’d edged around the group to see what was written, mouthed at Lyonette. She sighed.

“Pawn, are you attempting to make a date of this?”

The [Princess] raised her brows, and Pawn froze.

“No. I am certainly not attempting to re-woo you.”

“Nor is it a plan he and his Free Antinium spend too much time talking about.”

Bird commented as she passed by with a sample of free spicy donuts from the inn for any Antinium. This time, Pawn actually kicked at her; she flutter-hopped over his foot. Lyonette smiled ruefully.

“Not the best moment, Pawn.”

“Ah, because of the death and destruction. I see.”

His antennae drooped, and she half shook her head.

“That—and also because your older self and I had some rather unpleasant encounters. I think he was trying to be charming to me, but a bridge of about a decade’s time did not make me like what I saw. Forgive me—but I will visit again.”

She smiled again, and he sighed and hugged her before she went. When the [Princess] had gracefully exited, Pawn punched his knee lightly.

“Pawn. Of all the obstacles we anticipated in our simulations, I never expected it to be that fool. Curses! What did he do?”

He went to join Yellow Splatter’s hunt for the mysterious future-Antinium, partly in search of answers and to analyze their odd Erin-centric faith…but mostly to figure out how the other Pawn had gotten so lucky and what the hell he’d done to this Lyonette.

 

——

 

Then it was Lyonette and Nanette together, having a mother-daughter time. Well, and Colfa too and Dame Ushar, and Vaulont was on surveillance, and there were a few Calanferian servants in the mix as well, and Lyonette wouldn’t have been surprised if there were spies following her at a great distance, but in practice, it was just Lyonette and Nanette.

Different from Mrsha and Lyonette. Lyonette had called Nanette her daughter, and the witch-girl had accepted, but it was a compact between them. Califor would always be Nanette’s mother as well, and Lyonette wouldn’t interfere with that. But right now, they both needed each other, and they needed to figure out what that was like.

“So…how do you shop for clothing? We have an unlimited budget, Nanette. Let’s get something. Shall we stop at that store and make some more outfits to stab the eye? I’ll help.”

It was part of Lyonette’s new attitude towards things. Which, like the Archmage’s Well, was to let Mrsha and Nanette do what they wanted. Not everything, but if it was something like this? Why the heck not?

“You can’t just walk into a shop and do it deliberately, Lyonette. It’s got to be…spontaneous. You walk around new streets, and then you get what catches your eye.”

“With no eye towards color-coordination?”

Colfa interjected quizzically. Nanette was getting fewer looks in her suspender-t-shirt combo than Lyonette thought was appropriate. The witch girl smiled.

“With tons of eyes, Miss Colfa! You just don’t have to bow to what people think is proper.”

“Oh, I see. We’re shopping like [Witches].”

Lyonette pieced it together, and Nanette grinned. So they were off.

 

——

 

The first thing they collected was a flower dress on sale. Not a dress with floral prints, oh no. Rather, a skirt and upper dress that was made of huge petals, like a flower, dyed such that you appeared to be a giant daffodil with a grass skirt. Lyonette held it up, utterly entranced by this heinous crime against cloth.

“Who made this?”

Even in Invrisil, you had to ask. The pawn shop owner said one word.

“[Druid].”

“And they are not wearing this beautiful garment because…?”

Colfa eyed the clothing, and the shop owner uttered a mirthless laugh.

“I heard they walked by an Ashfire Bee nest with it on.”

“Ah, well, we’ll take it, if it fits, Nanette?”

The girl propped her hands on her hips, thinking hard.

“Of course the answer is yes. But who should wear it? It’s rather your size, Lyonette. We could take it for me, but maybe we can do something with that skirt!”

“Oh, joy…”

Despite herself, Lyonette got into the spirit of things. The next thing she bought were some gold bangles for ankles that were far too large; they jangled as Nanette tried to walk with them, then she shoved them onto her arms.

Colfa found a pirate’s tricorne hat. It was far too stylish to fit Nanette’s criteria, but Colfa insisted on wearing it and adopted a swagger as she walked.

Funnily, Colfa was the best actress of the three by far, since she’d had to disguise herself so long. After two more stores, someone came up to her asking if she was a [Captain] or part of a crew with a ship at any harbor. She told them her ship was booked up in a fairly convincing accent.

Lyonette, meanwhile, had noticed a bit too many stares coming her way, and after she saw Dame Ushar bodyblock the third person in sight, she motioned the Thronebearer over.

“Ushar, why is everyone staring at me?”

“I believe they’re realizing who you are, Princess. Your mother has taken off some of the obfuscation of your identity in Calanfer, and with this latest incident…”

Ushar grimaced, and so did Lyonette. Well, it hardly mattered…then her eyes fell on the dreadful skirt Nanette had bought her, and she had a horrific idea.

 

——

 

Fifteen minutes later, Lyonette, wearing her floral dress and elkhide legging jeans, strode after Nanette. She had black hair and a scar down one cheek, thanks to Dame Ushar’s work with some hair dye and a makeup kit.

“How did you have that just lying around?”

Ushar gave Nanette an innocent look.

“My budget allowed for it, Miss Nanette. We could dye your hair if you wanted.”

“I’ll go redheaded, then! No, wait, make it a natural orange!”

Colfa refused to change her hair, even though Ushar assured her it would wash out easily. She did buy more clothing, though, since Lyonette was paying for everything, or rather, the inn’s rather vast budget was.

By the time they were two hours in, a [Pirate Captain], a [Druid], and a disaster of fashion were ready for lunch. Nothing would do but for Lyonette to take them to a fancy restaurant.

They might not have reservations, and they looked a fright, but Dame Ushar’s armor opened a lot of doors—as did handing gold to the server in charge. They found themselves eating at a restaurant named Palatable Cuisine, which was overly fancy and had that ostentatious fondness for Terandrian foods because that was ‘high-class’.

“I’ll share a bloody steak with you, Colfa, and we’ll have a curlwrap leaf salad…Nanette?”

“I would like more bread with butter!”

Nanette was greedily eating some dark Noelictan Ashwheat bread. She only ate two small loaves of it, and Lyonette and Colfa actually managed half the steak; Dame Ushar was only too happy to take custody of the other half for herself.

“The real reason I wanted to come here was for this. Aha!”

The dessert menu made Nanette sit up. It was miniature jello and sugar creations! You could request anything you wanted, and the chef, a dedicated expert in desserts, would come out and serve it to you. But that wasn’t the amazing thing.

“Slimes! Are you from Onononno, sir?”

Nanette clapped her hands as a tiny slime rolled out, balancing a platter on its body, and she picked up a soldier waving a sword, made of blown sugar like glass. The [Chef] smiled, but wanly.

“That’s correct, Miss. I’m a [Slime Chef de Patisserie].”

“You must be the hit of the city. This is delicious.”

Lyonette complimented him, and the man ducked his head.

“Oh, well, I’m hardly that famous, Miss. And I’m told it does lose its charm in time…”

He glanced back at the kitchens, and she detected his withheld sigh, but she let the matter be—she was with Nanette and Colfa, and after the fun little sweets, they had passed into midday quite splendidly.

 

——

 

“Well, what shall we do now, Nanette?”

“Hedault! I should bring him a gift.”

“Oh, right.”

Lyonette had to escort Nanette to Hedault, who was indeed pleased to see she’d come precisely on time, and he even accepted a small gift of fruits with a nod. Lyonette waved at an additional guard who’d come to make sure Nanette was safe during her studies: Elia.

That left her and Colfa, but the Vampiress checked the time and sighed.

“I must get back to the farm, Lyonette. Fun as this is, Himilt will do all the chores alone without me. Dinner tonight? I’ll bring Himilt.”

“Please do! I’ll get Calescent to make something appropriate.”

Lyonette smiled, and then she was alone. She stretched and remarked to Ushar as the Thronebearer fell in beside her.

“Vaulont, you can appear if you feel the need. That went well. Mrsha and Nanette loved the surprise breakfast, and I think Nanette enjoyed that, right, Ushar?”

“I think so, Lyonette. And Mrsha is doing well in class, Dalimont reports.”

Lyonette nodded. This day had no problems. None. She had managed to hold down a few weeks now with no incidents, no drama, just good and pleasant things, even if slightly superficial.

She strolled along Invrisil’s streets, glancing right and left at her world, her timeline, with two daughters who were alive and an inn mostly intact. Grateful to be alive. Grateful for peace, however temporary. Grateful…

It was Vaulont the Ash who spoke tentatively. He was still a silent figure, but he’d gotten a crash-course in what The Wandering Inn meant, and he hadn’t run, even after Lyonette had given him all the bonuses he deserved. So perhaps he was being sucked into this place that made heroes or statues of people. If so…he didn’t appear afraid. Brave man. Desperate man.

Perhaps, just a lonely man.

“You look like some of my employers before they ordered me to assassinate an entire family, Miss Lyonette.”

She and Ushar swung around, and Vaulont stopped, then clarified the comment.

“Too pleasant. Like you’re holding in an explosion.”

“What sort of monsters—you worked for the Reinharts, didn’t you?”

He nodded.

“Before Magnolia Reinhart took power.”

Lyonette went striding along the streets. A few passersby nodded to her warily.

“[Druid], Miss Knight.”

“Lady Druid.”

“I don’t beat my dogs, I swear! Don’t hit me!”

She ignored that. Lyonette searched her heart for a core of killing rage, and if it was there…she shook her head.

“I’m not bursting with rage, Vaulont. If anything, I think I’m genuinely enjoying this kind of day. But every moment I do…hah. Is this how Mrsha felt? I can’t stand here under the gentle sun and just savor living. Mrsha can, and she must, because I think she’s seen what she can do. But I cannot. Nanette is practicing. But I…am restless.”

He nodded.

“Aside from the sun, I understand. What do you will?”

“I will myself hitting Level 40. That I have not already is likely because I accomplished few great deeds of my own during the Palace of Fates. Or that I reacted instead of made my own plans. It’s time. I will many things, Vaulont. But mostly, I will that these peaceful days continue. For myself and all those who deserve them.”

The Level 39 [Princess] spoke softly. Ushar shivered and rolled her shoulders, and the Vampire waited. Lyonette turned to him.

“The Horns. Erin. Ryoka. Most of them are out of my reach. But there’s someone I almost forgot during the Palace of Fates. My warning has come and gone. Perhaps she never belonged to this inn as strongly, but she also survived several life-or-death moments. We owe her more than idle threats. Tell me, Vaulont. How well do you know Tessa, Shriekblade?”

His brows rose, and he smiled. Somewhere, a listening force made a note in its files and began to prepare for a level-up. Exciting. It was beyond time. Vaulont spoke quietly.

“I know she’s supposed to be as good as an [Assassin] in many ways, madder than a Face. Likely to stab the hand that feeds her. I also know the Healer of Tenbault’s only good for a single spell. She can’t help my people; her spell kills or maims us. So I’d be delighted to do something, but I’d be wary of Shriekblade being wild…and the Healer’s pet dog. He barks loud.”

“Her spell hurts you?”

Lyonette was astonished. Vaulont shrugged.

“Most healing magic does, apparently. We usually don’t need it. If Shriekblade were coming willingly, we could evade Crowdcaller Merdon and his team easily. But if she wanted to, she’d leave the Healer herself. So like as not, you’d have to persuade her or get her by force.”

“And you couldn’t do it yourself?”

“Immobilize her without cutting a limb off? That’s a tall order for a Named-rank. I might be able to do it.”

Lyonette nodded, calm now, and her mind felt, if not free, then happy enough with the burdens it took on.

“Then we shall need a plan. I doubt Tessa has received my missives; she never replied. Or if she’s ignoring me…how fast can you reach Tenbault?”

He offered her a sliver of a smile.

“If I hurry, one night.”

She liked that. This was a day of…responsibilities, Lyonette decided. Obligations. Promises made and kept.

She was, of course, wrong. This was a day of changes. Small and large.

 

——

 

There was a leak in The Wandering Inn when Lyonette got back. Not a bad one—but inevitable. The Goblin King’s rampage through the common room and hallway had done extensive damage to the inn, and it was true that Valeterisa and Montressa had put up a magical barrier to contain the rain and let the inn operate as normal.

But still—damage was damage. There were cracks in the foundation and structure that Hexel had taken one look at and shaken his head.

“Too much for me to take on unless you want me to start from the ground up. I’m just grateful our new foundations were spared. Anything that doesn’t fall over in the next month should just be patched. I’ll try to have the new inn’s first floor at least livable by the end of the month.”

His workers and the undead of Rheirgest were swarming over the new construction site, but it meant that The Wandering Inn was on its own for problems. Like leaking water and insanity.

Lyonette didn’t realize there was a problem with insanity—she was eying the water dripping from a broken beam that led up to a roof. One of the Calanferian servants had put a bucket out, but it was annoying.

“What’s that about insanity?”

“Oh, we’ve got that covered, Miss Lyonette!”

The [Princess] turned, and a cheerful Captain Earlia waved at a wall. She had a blindfold on. Lyonette opened her mouth as the Silver-rank Captain walked into a table and swore.

“Fuck. Hey, lead me to the hallway, you idiots!”

Her team obligingly spun her around, and Lyonette realized what it was.

“Oh no. Our trapped hallway?”

It was filled with the Runes of Insanity she’d bought! They hadn’t been deployed against the Goblin King since he’d come in the wrong way, but if any were exposed…Earlia cheerfully called out.

“It’s actually putting ‘em back, Miss Lyonette. That guy blew pieces all over when he left. We just have to put them in and cover them. Won’t take more than an hour if we can close it down?”

“Of course. Can someone lock the door to the portal room? No, wait, that won’t work…”

Mrsha had to come back from school, and they had guests. Then a hand rose.

“Miss Lyonette, we could put up a curtain and sign and redirect anyone around to enter the inn from the outside!”

It was Xinthe who offered a very practical solution. Peggy and Rosencrantz turned; the Worker had his hand up too, and they seemed surprised to be upstaged. Lyonette was just grateful for the support. She smiled at the young woman.

“That’s a good idea, Xinthe. Please, do that. Rosencrantz, can your Workers patch the leaks?”

“Of course, Lyonette. We will get on it.”

“That leaves Peggy’s team for serving the inn. Let’s get to it!”

The group broke up, and the Calanferians swept into action, finding cloth for the curtain and assigning people to keep anyone away from the dangerous hallway as the Goblins covered the floor and Antinium tackled the leak. Only a fraction of each group was on active duty; they rotated out through the day, which kept work a lot easier on the staff now it wasn’t a skeleton crew.

However, there was a definite note of rivalry between Xinthe and her Calanferian team and the Goblins and Antinium. The two non-Human species hadn’t realized it at first, but it was getting more obvious. Of course it was.

They’d been sent by Eternal Calanfer to help the 6th Princess of Calanfer. Xinthe and the servants had been chosen for both espionage and their ability to be good serving staff, and they intended to win Princess Lyonette’s favor.

Rather smugly, they accomplished their task in eight minutes with a sign, warders, and even went out to empty the outhouses and bring refreshments to the…[Necromancers]…working outside. But they did it and marched back inside in short order.

When they came in, they found Lyonette scrubbing a table with a cleaning cloth as Asgra and Inkpaper worked on two more. Instantly, Xinthe tried to grab the cloth, but Lyonette just blinked and recoiled.

“Your H—Miss Lyonette, what are you doing?”

“Er, working, Xinthe.”

The aghast servants stared at Lyonette as she eyed a stubborn stain on the table and picked at it. Then bent under the table.

“Who is leaving gum here? I swear, it’s one of the regulars. When I find who it is…”

“I bet it’s Ekirra. He chews.”

Asgra volunteered. Lyonette gave her a shocked look.

“He’s not that rude, Asgra! Well, poo.”

To their horror, she not only used foul language, but she began picking at the calcified gum—with her fingernails! Like any [Barmaid] might!

“Miss Lyonette, allow us to take this over for you.”

Xinthe practically tried to shove Lyonette aside, but the [Princess] just frowned at her.

“I can work, Xinthe. You check on Calescent in the kitchen, would you? And the undead.”

“W-we’ve attended to the villagers of Rheirgest, but Miss Lyonette, your fingers!”

Lyonette tossed the offending piece of gum onto the table. She eyed her fingers, which were clean enough, and shrugged as she dipped them in the cleaning water. She wore a sardonic look of amusement, now.

“You didn’t see me working during the…palace incident, but I do perform tasks, Xinthe. You must get used to that. Though I’m glad not to be hammering wood into place in the rain.”

She shuddered as she glanced up at the leak, which was already slowing. The Calanferians just gazed at her in astonishment. They’d known she was running the inn, but they’d assumed she was just managing it. To see her working like one of them was—

Something. It disturbed them. In turn, they began trying to preempt work for Lyonette, scrambling to clean tables and bus dishes in a way that was meant to be helpful.

In truth, it was really annoying for the [Princess].

Lyonette had known she’d have issues when hiring more staff, but offending the sensibilities of Calanferian commonfolk was not on her list of concerns. After the second time she made a move for some dishes she thought could be bussed or a guest waiting for an order and a [Servant] almost threw themselves on the problem, she pulled Xinthe aside to have a conversation about it.

“Xinthe, I am going to work. If your people cannot behave themselves around me, I’ll have to assign them to jobs where I am not present. Something I don’t believe you are keen on, and I need their help. Peggy, rotate more Goblins in from the upper floors, would you? Keep a few of the Calanferian staff below.”

“You got it, Boss-Chief.”

Peggy saluted and reduced the number of Calanferians on the ground floor, which meant they were now too busy to interrupt Lyonette. And the other Goblins were only too happy to let Lyonette help with their work. Xinthe just gazed at Lyonette’s back as the [Princess] sighed.

She was going to get a headache. But this was a mild problem! Mild—until Nanette ran up in the rain.

“Lyonette! Can you come outside? The villagers of Rheirgest have an undead problem!”

Lyonette’s head snapped around.

“I thought Xinthe checked on them?”

Then she realized the Calanferians had fed the [Necromancers], but probably stayed away from the undead. She sighed and went outside.

These were the problems of a [Princess] on days when the world didn’t end. Minor, she thought, expecting to find a visitor complaining about the undead. Instead, she found—an oddity. Extra skeletons? She went to have a word with Master Elosaith. Then came the…

Tax collector incident.

 

——

 

The entire rather embarrassing altercation with [Tax Collector] Geilsten was witnessed by none other than Captain Zevara, and Lyonette truly regretted how it had gone down.

Not the outcome, perhaps! Even as she watched the Drake running away, Lyonette didn’t actually see how it could have gone any other way. No city like Liscor would just grant The Wandering Inn a waiver on all its taxes without at least knowing what they stood to lose. And with Geillsten’s abilities…

No, we can’t let it happen. She still felt bad—not for him, but for Zevara and the trouble this would bring. But there was some vindictive pleasure in reminding Liscor that they hadn’t supported the inn when it mattered most, and there were consequences for that!

A real Erin moment in short, and Lyonette felt properly embarrassed and triumphant at once. She wondered whether Erin felt like that?

What didn’t help was the attitude of Rheirgest’s villagers or Arrema.

“All hail Queen Lyonette, bane of [Tax Collectors], ruler of the undead. Hip hip—hooray. Hip hip—”

The [Princess] really wished they’d stop cheering her. She strode back to the inn, bracing herself for the inevitable counter attack once the Council heard of this one. Her day was suddenly very busy…so much for relaxation.

“Arrema, stop that. All hands on deck! We have a small incident—I need refreshments, a double-layer of obfuscators—Ishkr, the Council and Watch Commander Venim should be allowed through, but not any flunkies, busybodies, or…”

“Lookie-loos?”

Asgra suggested as the staff smiled with amusement. Lyonette gave her an incredulous look.

“What on earth is a…yes, those. Ushar, how much ammunition do we have to counter anything the Council tries to pressure me with?”

“I have a file right here, Your Highness.”

Ushar handed Lyonette a little file that Lyonette had written up herself, listing the various favors—and debts—that Liscor and the inn had towards each other.

She was actually quite prepared for something like this. Which was from her Calanferian training. But the irony was that the new Calanferian staff, who were perfect for this moment, were again falling behind Antinium.

Xinthe, the unofficial leader of the Calanferian servants, asked Ishkr.

“Excuse me, Head Server Ishkr, what is a ‘double-layer of obfuscators’?”

The term sounded sort of familiar; her training in Calanfer’s palace had taught her how to interrupt and trip up people in small ways. Ishkr was already grabbing chairs and tables and shoving them into place in the open-air common room.

“It’s an inn-term. Peggy’s in charge of that.”

The Hobgoblin? Any skepticism Xinthe had was erased when she saw Peggy marshalling her troops. And how Ishkr was setting up the table with Rosencrantz and the Antinium. He was placing the tables and chairs in a deceptively tight-knit pattern on the outskirts of the common room, such that if you filled them, it’d be actually really hard to weave through the chairs and seated people towards the inner section. It went against any good seating arrangements…unless that was the point—while the inner tables allowed the staff to easily navigate on the inside.

Rather like a moat of guests and a keep of tables of people you actually wanted to talk to. As for ‘obfuscators’, one of them was just Asgra. With a menu.

“Hello sir or madam. Is you sit down there. We have specials on the menu.”

She popped up, beaming, as the first [Spy] tried to weave through the chairs towards a table where the woman could eavesdrop on Lyonette, who was reading from her files. The woman protested.

“Er, thank you, but I’d love to sit somewhere over…”

“Hello sir or madam, you is please sit there. I not understand fancy words.”

“Uh—I—uh—I sit there. Please? I pay. Eat there?”

The poor [Spy] was new. Asgra stared up at her with big, innocent, crimson eyes, and the nervous [Spy] saw the Cave Goblin tilt her head.

“Hello sir or madam, you is sit there. You want menu? Or eat rocks? I can get. Is plenty. Very good. You probably not die.”

She was one ‘obfuscator’ who worked in the time-honored tradition of Erin Solstice. Each one had their own style, and it was a lot more fun than just waiting tables; Gothica had been a great one in her short time at the inn. There were more advanced compatriots as well; Ishkr and the Thronebearers were a final line of defense against anyone who Lyonette didn’t have time for.

Then came the guests, as ever. Spies…which were like 30% of the clientele, really, upset people from Liscor, and the onlookers who always came by to get the freshest gossip. The worst part, Xinthe realized, was that the staff knew a lot of them.

A Gnoll came bounding out the doors from Pallass. With a big ‘Channel 2’ hat on her head. She had a jacket on with a logo for Drassi’s channel and a notepad. She slid into a seat in the inner ring without anyone stopping her.

“Hey, everyone! Where’s the fire? Drassi’s [Journalistic Instincts] were tingling, so she sent me over.”

“Rubri! How are you? You want a sandwich and coffee?”

Asgra beamed and stopped harassing her [Spy] as the Gnoll, one of Drassi’s more promising [Reporters], sniffed the air.

“I can have brunch. Ooh, I love what you’ve done with the front of the inn. That hole was getting super depressing—I might need a [Magic Picture] of it. So what is this, camera-worthy or just newspaper?”

“Eh, probably just newspaper. We quit Liscor. No more taxes.”

Rubri began taking notes as food and coffee appeared for her, and across from her, Rosencrantz was welcoming in a Drowned Man and six others.

“Hello, Not-Spy Nollesc. And friends? A table for six? We will have your usual out in a moment; do you have your card to stamp? Ooh, you are only two meals away from a free special on the house. This way, thank you!”

The other not-spies jumped and seemed quite rattled; they were new. But the Drowned Man who had once earned Erin’s favor just shook Rosencrantz’s hand and asked for a table for seven; someone was coming. Then he sat down unobtrusively and took notes, also admiring the new frontage of the inn.

Ah, the frontage of the inn. Lyonette smiled as she heard a few more organic compliments about it. The inn was still ‘open’ to the elements, and the Goblin King’s smashing through the walls had meant that impromptu barrier spells had been necessary to keep the rain from washing into the inn.

However, after a few weeks, Architect Hexel and the builders of Antinium and undead had had plenty of time to repair most of the damage to the inn. Honestly, a day or two was all Antinium needed usually.

But the barrier remained. It just wasn’t a crude bubble spell; guests walking into the inn would stop and admire the light-walls that resembled actual beams and wood, just made out of glowing blue light that melded into the original structure. The ceiling that faced out onto the Floodplains was transparent; it was like a perfect barrier of glass that only rippled faintly now and then as the rain struck it.

It felt like you were exposed to the storm, but of course, no water or cold leaked through, and if the majesty of the rains got too much at night, Lyonette could make the barrier-spells opaque. It was quite something and why she’d asked Valeterisa to adjust the magic.

Well, in truth, it hadn’t been the Archmage of Mages who’d done this. It had been Montressa assisting Lord Moore. Before he’d begun entering Liscor every day, he’d cast a number of spells around the inn and demonstrated to Valeterisa that magic had advanced quite, quite a lot. Even if he wasn’t a ‘great spellcaster’ by his own standards!

Montressa had learned quite a lot. In fact, Lyonette fiddled with the little glowing remote control that Moore had made for her. A magical pad of runes! What would the future come up with next?

“Let’s see. That one’s to allow smells in…no. The undead might bother the Council a tiny bit—so what about, um? Aha!”

She hit a button, and the skies lit up. The people filtering into the common room cried out and shaded their eyes. Instantly, Lyonette hit another button, and the bright glare of the sun faded, but the amazingly blue skies still shone down, and in the distance, the sandy dunes kept blowing…she laughed in delight.

“So sorry, folks! I’ll change the vista if it’s too bright! Where are we…? Ah!”

The ‘glass’ of the barrier had shifted in what it was showing. Instead of Liscor and the Floodplains, it was a scrying spell anchored to…Lyonette peered at the writing on the top right corner.

“Zeikhal? Oh my, it looks rather pleasant! Except for the sandstorm over there.”

The amazingly exotic vista was bathing the inn in light, and she fancied she’d change it to another setting in a few minutes, but it was a good…icebreaker for the Council, wasn’t it? She carefully tucked the remote into her pockets. If she left it out, Asgra would switch it to something unsettling like the deep sea. The sight of gigantic waves rolling towards you tended to put you off your food.

This was the new inn. And the magical front was probably one of the stronger parts of the inn right now. Certainly, a few visitors trying to sneak into the inn instead of going through the long, trapped hallway kept slamming into the lightwall. Lyonette smiled to herself as she saw someone pop into a seat.

“Vy, Lyonette. I leave you for one second and you’ve caused another incident. Vhat is it this time?”

Colfa was smiling, though, because her accent was out in full force. Lyonette rolled her eyes.

“This one wasn’t my fault! What happened, Colfa—oh, dead gods. It was such a peaceful morning, too! We were just singing a moment ago. Now I can’t believe what’s happening/but I’ll get the last laugh. Just you wait. I can’t wait. I won’t be beat/I can’t be defeated in my—wait a second, why am I singing?”

She narrowed her eyes, then groaned as she turned.

“Miss Calla! Switch your Skill off, please!”

“Oops, sorry.”

A Drake sitting at a table innocently deactivated her Skill, but the [Singing Instructor], Calla Songstress, had definitely done that on purpose. She seemed to think that having people burst into impromptu song-and-dance numbers was an appropriate way to live. Despite what had happened last time!

Actually, Lyonette was amazed Calla kept coming back to the inn, but it seemed the Drake had liked the taste of music, if nothing else. Plus, she was sitting at a table on the inside.

“What is this new magic thing? Oh, that’s so much better than even Invrisil’s best cafés! And the prices are so much better than Pallass or Invrisil. I just had to stop by because everyone loves the gossip from this place. It’s so hard to start up in a new city, you know, but if you’re brave enough to sit at the inn, people want to hear about it!”

She was chatting to Xinthe, and Lyonette and Colfa eyed each other. The Vampiress made a face.

“She is very good at singing, though. Mayhaps you should hire her to teach ze Antinium?”

“I’ll give it a thought. But I think she needs toughening up. She’d probably faint before she got to the Painted Antinium’s barracks.”

At least that other woman, Ebente, wasn’t around…Mrsha had directed Ushar to watch out for her. But then the Council strode on in, and Lism’s familiar voice rang out.

“Where is she? We don’t have time for this today! Not with the election! Does she even realize she’s hurting our campaigns? Miss Lyonette—”

He did a double-take as he tried to shove past Menolit and saw the vista of Chandrar. Lism halted, mouth open.

“Dead gods, the door’s opened a portal to Chandrar! Summon the army! We’re going to have to fight off the King of Destruction now! Get me every [Merchant] in Liscor! Chandrar! We’ll sell them fish and water—”

He was about to dash back the way he’d come when Krshia grabbed him by the scuff of the neck with a sigh. She waved at Lyonette, and the [Princess] muttered to Colfa.

“I do not know what she sees in him.”

“Eh, many people say good things about him. Better him than the Merchant’s Guild leader. Now, do you want me with you? I could add zome…elegance to the discussions.”

Colfa produced a fan. She just wanted to be there in this kind of discussion, so Lyonette rolled her eyes and gestured to a table. There was already a rather grand seat where she was meant to sit, and Colfa beamed as Peggy brought over a high-backed baroque-style chair for her. The Council eyed her, and Elirr muttered to Raekea.

“I told you we should have brought our own seats. Time to counterlevel…”

You know, it was fun. For a few seconds, Lyonette smiled…until she saw the actual anxiety on the Council’s faces and saw more people flooding in. Then she wished that her peaceful day had continued. Not that this was like seeing an Elder Creler coming at you, but it was suddenly just a tad bit of work. Consequences for her actions.

That familiar thread of anxiety and uncertainty. Lyonette sighed as she focused and got down to brass tacks with the Council.

And it didn’t get better when Mrsha came home from school. On the contrary, Lyonette had thought it might, but then she heard Mrsha had been…

Bullied?

 

——

 

The girl was having a late lunch at The Wandering Inn, and Lyonette saw Captain Zevara wandering down the repaired hallway when she rushed into the common room. She didn’t even ask about what the Watch Captain was doing here; she assumed it was part of the flood of [Negotiators] and Councilmembers and Watch Commander Venim who’d come to try to talk her out of her decision.

Dead gods, her head. She’d refused them all, and since she couldn’t really say why she had made her decision other than that she didn’t want to pay taxes, it had been fruitless. And stressful.

This Council might know to back down, but what if Liscor elects a new one in this dratted election they’re forcing? We cannot and will not pay taxes.

It even made sense; Liscor wasn’t sending the Watch through the door. It was removed physically from the city—it was just that Lyonette wished she could have done that more gracefully and for a better reason.

Well, it was done, and the news of Mrsha had thrown everything else out of her head.

“Who did it? Dalimont, did you summon the Watch? Teacher Shassa knows, doesn’t she?”

She looked Mrsha up and down for injury, and Mrsha scowled.

Who snitched on me?

She gave Dalimont an accusing glower as Ekirra, Visma, and Kenva shook their heads at a table they were snacking at. The Thronebearer avoided Mrsha’s gaze.

“I merely informed Her Highness of the event, Miss Mrsha.”

“Mrsha, who did it? And why? You don’t seem that upset.”

Nanette was there too, and she gave her roommate and sister a critical witch’s eye. Mrsha merely sighed and wrote in the air with a glowing claw.

It was a new girl. Rinni. She just threw some candy apple on my fur.

“And she pushed you during recess—ow, my leg!”

Ekirra began and clutched at his leg as Mrsha kicked him. Lyonette eyed Dalimont.

“And you were…”

Watching from the side because he’s a [Knight], Mother. I’m fine. She’s just angry at me. And the inn.

Mrsha intervened with a patient look. She had a tiny bit of dried syrup in her fur; Nanette tried to comb it out as Lyonette turned to her.

“But if she’s being unpleasant—”

I told Miss Shassa, and she knows. I’m not bothered, Mother. It’s not like she’s a Creler. She’s nine. If Ser Dalimont got involved, that’d be bad. Please, don’t worry. Did you secede from Liscor while I was at school?

Mrsha changed subjects, and Lyonette inhaled to explain—then glanced at Dalimont. His helpless shrug did make her realize how bad it might look to have an adult [Knight] haranguing a child. But even so!

Where is their family, and who do I have to send Vaulont after? No—no—Mrsha has a point. Lyonette realized she might be overprotective.

But after all Mrsha had gone through—! It struck Lyonette that a month ago, it would have been the other girl she’d be worried for. Mrsha had poisoned Thronebearers with death spice and gotten into scrapes—a vengeful Mrsha would be a problem. But this Mrsha…just watched her mother, worried it was Lyonette who’d go too far.

“…If Miss Shassa knows about the issue and is taking steps, I’ll—let it be. I’m quite sorry that happened to you, Mrsha.”

Eh, it was a pretty good day. I didn’t mind any of it. We learned how to resole shoes in class. Very practical. Ekirra’s feet stink.

“Do not!”

Visma and Ekirra chorused. Then they eyed each other and blushed. Oh my, were they a tiny couple? Mrsha pretended to stick her finger down her throat to throw up and gazed at Arrema for support. The older Mrsha leaned over.

“It’ll never work out, guys.”

Ekirra and Visma gave her a very strange look and edged away from the big, scary Gnoll. Arrema’s face fell for a second, and Lyonette breathed in and out.

“Very well. I, ah—”

“Miss Lyonette? Someone from the Council to see you.”

Xinthe stopped as Lyonette whirled with such a glower on her face that Raekea halted in her tracks. Lyonette faced Mrsha.

“I have to go, Mrsha, but after this, tell me more about your day!”

Mrsha lifted one hand like a weary [Senator] casting a vote into the great beyond.

Good luck on your trials, Mother. I’ll be snacking. Ave, domina!

Lyonette had no idea what that was about, and neither did Dame Ushar until she snapped her fingers.

“I think that was one of the mage-languages. Latin, the Earthers call it. She might have learned it from Kevin.”

“Kevin.”

Lyonette muttered darkly, forgetting she was glad he was alive. She glanced around for him.

“And where is our [Mechanic] today?”

“I believe he visited Miss Imani this morning. As for his current whereabouts…he’s with Watch Captain Zevara as well?”

“Huh?”

She’d just talked to Zevara. What was that Watch Captain doing? Then Lyonette focused on the present.

 

——

 

Headaches. By the end of the day, Lyonette had one, and she was regretting her rash decision to secede from Liscor. Or perhaps it was just…well, opening the inn again.

Maybe it was knowing someone was harassing Mrsha and the last thing she should do was march over to the school and have a word with the parents—or Shassa—and wanting to.

Or maybe it was having the Council braying at her for her decision, as if they owned the inn or had protected it despite all the inn had done for the city, good and bad.

Possibly, it was the fact that the Calanferians needed guidance and were a bit—snoopy. Bird had complained to Lyonette about them poking around her rooms and cleaning up her dead birds.

It might have been the undead thing.

Conceivably, it was Pawn and a group of Painted Antinium sitting in the common room, talking louder than usual and trying to engage her in conversation any time she walked past.

…Yep. It was definitely that last one that pushed her over the top. Lyonette had to stop on the fourth attempt. She found herself sitting with some Painted Antinium and smiling at Pawn.

“Is everyone enjoying their meal?”

“We are, immensely, Lyonette. This is certainly the best venue for good food in Liscor.”

Pawn smiled at her—and instantly, Holytext, one of his disciples who’d come by the inn earlier with some business, raised a hand.

“The best venue in the Floodplains, as the inn is not a part of Liscor any more. Not the best in Liscor in any case because Antinium are now operating food-based establishments and we must support our own people.”

Every head focused on Pawn, and he visibly hesitated.

“Um…yes. Thank you, Holytext, for that clarity.”

He gave Lyonette an embarrassed stare as his Painted Antinium nodded and clacked their mandibles as one. Despite herself, Lyonette covered a smile.

“And what is going on in Liscor? Besides my, ah, little declaration?”

“Oh, the usual. Theft, rain in the Hive, and enchanted suits of armor attacking people on the road.”

“Ah—is that usual?”

Despite herself, Pawn did get her attention, and the Worker explained.

“Well, the rain and armor is. It is a very trying thing. You are aware that the dungeon is releasing more suits of enchanted armor? Some even climb out of the tunnels and attack travellers on the road. The Watch and adventurers are also combating them.”

“I had no idea.”

Lyonette was faintly alarmed by the notion, but Pawn just shrugged. He turned to Yellow Splatters, and the [Captain] rumbled.

“They seem…cleverer than before. They will retreat in front of a threat. And they fight better.”

He rubbed at a scar on his carapace that appeared like it had come from a big blade. All the Painted Antinium nodded. Lyonette bit her lip.

“That sounds like a problem. Ah—and the thefts? Someone’s stealing from Antinium? You mentioned it during your sermon, Pawn.”

“In small quantities, yes. I do not believe it is a great problem, simply a new one to face. In fact, I heard Watch Captain Zevara was interviewing some Workers very recently.”

Pawn assured her airily, and Lyonette supposed that it was petty theft. She put it out of her mind and tried to make small-talk with Pawn. The problem was…

He put his hand on hers as she rested it on the table. She took it back. Pawn hesitated, then folded his hands together as he used his other two to eat.

“So, Lyonette, may we count on your presence at the next sermon? Your singing was very inspirational to the congregation. There is already a petition for a choir, but Bird has declined to join another sermon. You could teach it.”

“I—could certainly see if Colfa and Nanette will join me. When is the next sermon?”

“Tonight.”

Pawn saw her expression.

“We could do another one tomorrow. Or once per week?”

All the Painted Antinium were staring at her, and Lyonette felt that current of pain in her head grow worse. She spoke abruptly.

“I don’t think I can commit to that, Pawn.”

“What about once a m—”

“Oh my. Is that Dame Ushar calling me? Ushar, I’m coming! I’m so sorry, Pawn, I have to go.”

Thank goodness for Thronebearers. Ushar was waving at Lyonette with feigned urgency, and Pawn swivelled as Lyonette shot from the table. Only, the [Princess] realized it was an actual emergency as the Thronebearer motioned her over.

“Your Highness, into the [World’s Eye Theatre]. I have him on speaking stone, but…in person would be best.”

“Who?”

“Vaulont.”

 

——

 

The Vampire was leaning against a wall in an alleyway that was far grimier than Lyonette expected. She was almost positive it was in Tenbault…he was holding one side, and when he saw her appear, he rasped.

“She got me.”

“What? Vaulont! You’re wounded!”

He had a hole in his side and more cuts in his arms! They weren’t healing, and Lyonette panicked.

“Healing potion. We have enough! We need to get you—no, wait, Holytext gave me some healing scrolls—”

The Vampire shook his head, glancing over his shoulder.

“No, don’t waste one. I’ll heal overnight. They were just enchanted daggers. She stabbed me the moment I came into her radius. I tried to tell her who I was—I think that stopped her from killing me.”

“Tessa. Tessa did this?”

Lyonette was horrified, and Vaulont winced as he straightened; red blood leaked from his armor, and he cursed.

“Ash me, she’s fast. Yes. She’s not in a good state, Lyonette. Not at all.”

“How bad…?”

The Vampire counted.

“I think I saw her on a mixture of four drugs at once. I asked around before trying to get close to the Healer’s mansion where she resides—she’s been on some kind of substance nonstop since the Winter Solstice. Several fights with both clients of the Healer and other adventurers.”

Oh no. Tessa. Lyonette felt that pang of guilt worsen. But she had to focus.

“Vaulont, you return right now. Do you need someone to pick you up?”

He seemed to be ready to say he’d come back on his own, but hesitated.

“If there was an overnight coach…”

Lyonette glanced at Ushar, who nodded and beckoned; Xinthe ran over at once. Some small help there.

“We’re having one sent to you now, Vaulont. Good job. I am terribly sorry you got hurt.”

He wore a bitter smile on his face.

“It’s hard to go up against those with Skills, even with all my capabilities. I’ve failed my task. Can I do anything while I’m here?”

She saw apprehension flash across his face, carefully hidden, and spoke fiercely.

“You did not fail, Vaulont! You’re the only member of staff I would send into danger and hope to escape it, especially if Tessa is berserk. Please gather any information on the state of things in Tenbault about Tessa.”

He seemed gratified at this and nodded. After a few more words, he signed out and Lyonette closed the call. She stood there a moment, in the [World’s Eye Theatre], and knew what she had to do.

“Tessa?”

The theatre flickered around her. For a moment, Lyonette thought she saw a Drake writhing around on the ground, and she heard a scratchy scream. A familiar voice in agony.

“Tessa.”

Lyonette thought she saw the scarred Drake twist around, but Tessa was blurry. Static shot though the image, and the scream was equally ‘scratchy’. She reached for the Drake, who flinched back from her—then the image dissolved into black and white dots. Tessa broke apart as the rushing hiss of static surrounded Lyonette.

“What the—?”

Protection spells? Normally, not even foreign rulers had the power to block the [World’s Eye Theatre]. From everything said of the Healer of Tenbault, Lyonette didn’t think she was that good a [Mage]. But then it all made itself clear.

The static coalesced, and several golden lines of text drew themselves in the air.

 

This more complete anti-scrying spell has been brought to you by the Terras faction of Wistram. Please inquire at your nearest Mage’s Guild for our new spell protection package and other services!

 

Lyonette cursed the Archmage of Memories out for a good half-minute. Then she stared at the place where Tessa had been.

She’s getting worse, and I let her go. I should have focused on her, but first it was the Solstice, then the [Palace of Fates]. No more. No more!

Tomorrow, she’d work harder, but she’d done all she could tonight. A busy day. Pawn and taxes. New servants.

Because all of these things weighed on her, along with her determination to hit Level 40, Lyonette did something she never did that night as she trailed into The Wandering Inn’s common room. A moment of weakness.

She had a drink.

 

——

 

She was having a bad day, so Lyonette hit the bottles. She was six cups down and possibly half a bottle too. The horrified looks from her Calanferian staff just made her indulge harder.

You see, she never drank. Not with two daughters around and an inn to run. However, she felt like there hadn’t been a disaster for weeks, and…she was upset. Drinking as an escape surely wasn’t a bad habit?

It was actually precisely because these weren’t huge disasters that she felt she could have a drink. If Vaulont had been bleeding out in Tenbault, Lyonette would have been dry as a bone, worried. But he had already gotten on the overnight carriage.

So she poured herself another drink from behind the counter.

“Your Highness, you’re drinking too much! Surely you’d care to have any—beverages in private?”

Xinthe was begging Lyonette to take this somewhere where spies couldn’t see her, but the [Princess] didn’t care.

She was sitting at the bar, and some of her headaches were drinking with her.

“Shut up, you. We’re pouring one out for—everything. Right, M…Lyonette?”

Arrema was tapping on the bar, looking for her drink. She hadn’t been served one yet, and Ishkr hesitated. But Lyonette just glanced over as the young Gnoll woman fixed Ishkr with a look.

“Listen, buddy. My entire world is dust and memories. If you don’t hand me a drink, I’ll get mad.”

That decided Ishkr. He gestured at the bottles on the wall.

“Got a favorite?”

“Uh…Velrusk Claw?”

From the way that Arrema said that, everyone in earshot knew she actually wasn’t much of a drinker, which made Lyonette proud for her future-self. Arrema might smoke Dreamleaf like Palt, but she didn’t drink like Pelt. 50% was decent.

Someone leaned over the bar and pointed. Arrema jumped, then her face went blank as Lord Raithland, the half-Giant, took a seat. Or rather, the magical earth rose and reinforced the stool so he could sit.

“Providence’s Cup. Eight shots for me, one for Miss Arrema, please.”

“I don’t know that one.”

Ishkr blinked as Arrema peered at the half-Giant and then leaned on his shoulder without a word. Lyonette gulped down some cranberry juice she’d mixed with whiskey and pushed her empty cup forwards.

“Providence Spirits on the shelf, there. You mix it with a spoonful of Ashfire Bee honey and purified water or close as you can get. Then a cider or mead.”

The half-Giant instructed Ishkr on the preparation method, and it was a rather pleasant drink when he served it out. Not with all the subtlety of a hammer; the water truly cut the strength of the alcohol, and Lyonette toasted the others.

“Here’s to regrets!”

Arrema took down her drink too fast, and then she stood on her stool and raised her cup. The inn’s diners eyed her. Lyonette said nothing. If she was having a bad day—then her future daughter was having enough for a distillery. The [Princess] raised her cup and took it down to the horror of the Calanferians.

“Your Highness! Think of your offspring!”

Xinthe hissed at Lyonette, and the [Princess] cast around reflexively, guilt eating at her on top of the drink. Lyonette saw that Mrsha and Nanette were copying the bad examples of the adults like every parent’s worst nightmare.

Nanette was pouring a goat’s milk into Mrsha’s cup, and the girl chinked her glass hard against the young witch’s cup. Sammial and Hethon were doing the same. They took a long drink, and Mrsha met Lyonette’s eyes. The [Princess] raised a cup, guilty, and swung around.

“My mother smokes. I’ve seen worse, and so have you, Xinthe. I’d rather drink somewhat responsibly in her view than pretend I don’t at all.”

“Yeah! My mother pretended she didn’t drink shit. And look how I turned out!”

Arrema flailed a paw at the Calanferian. Faced with this kind of impeccable logic, the woman just watched as Lyonette beckoned at Ishkr.

“Give me another Providence’s Cup, Ishkr.”

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough, Lyonette?”

She scowled at him.

“I can still remember why I reached for a drink. Lay on, Macduff; I’ll tell you when I’ve had enough!”

Arrema and Lord Raithland chuckled at the reference to Shakespeare, but Lyonette just reached for another drink. She couldn’t say why she was so miserable today—the obvious clues aside, she hadn’t tried to drown her sorrows after the [Palace of Fates]. Maybe…it was mundane difficulties.

The [Princess] raised her cup for another swallow and wondered when she’d fall flat on her back. It belatedly occurred to her that being resistant to poison probably meant she’d shot herself in the foot. Was it normal to be only drunk after taking half a bottle of whiskey down?

The liquid was touching her lip when the [Princess] froze. She glanced up—and her eyes locked on the thing she hadn’t searched for.

A door.

Another door. She almost threw her cup at it until she realized…she knew this one. A pale door hung in the air, unlike the [Garden of Sanctuary] or the [Palace of Fates]. It had a Harpy’s wings rising over the door, and she rose and looked around. The world was frozen…

“Oh. Oh, no.”

She stepped off of her stool and unsteadily walked towards it. It was her again. What had gone wrong this time? Please, not Ulvama. But whatever it was, Lyonette had to know.

She put her hand on the curious latch, fit for a Harpy’s claws, and she took a breath. Her heart pounded terribly. But she had to know. She always had to know. So she swung it open, expecting to see a hat blazing with black flames. A dying woman dripping with her miseries.

“…Erin?”

 

——

 

The [Pavilion of Secrets] Lyonette knew full well. It was a black void where, in every direction, she expected to see stars…or water. As if they were in space or at the bottom of the abyss of the sea.

The pale, worn gazebo sitting there and the single chess table like a place of judgement. A terrifying spot where the [Innkeeper] sat, breaking your heart as she continued, despite falling to pieces before your very eyes.

Demanding the truth from you as she prepared to dash herself to pieces. A scarred survivor wading through the blood she’d shed.

What was it this time? The drunk [Princess] actually closed her eyes as she opened the door…and then it was bright.

Something bounced Lyonette up, and she flew a good foot through in the air, which felt like far more. Drunkenness meant she stumbled on coming down, but it didn’t hurt. She bounced again.

“W-w-w-whaaa—?”

A hand caught her arm, and Lyonette felt the sunlight bathing her face. She gazed up, and a smile cracked that worn face. The [Innkeeper] brushed at a discolored strand of hair and hauled Lyonette up the giant beetle’s shell.

“Bad time, Lyonette? Sorry.”

“Erin? Where are we—a giant beetle?”

It was huge, red, and it had a hut on its back! The [Innkeeper] was sitting on its massive head as two giant pincers mashed together. The ground was streaming past them, giant rocks and blades of grass—

No, she was small! Small as a Fraerling! Lyonette was so startled that she didn’t see Ulvama at first. The Hobgoblin was combing a giant, one-eyed hamster’s fur as a man on the other side with white hair fed it seeds. The grumpy-looking hamster was glowering at a Fraerling sitting on the hut, strumming a three-stringed guitar—a young woman.

There was a Fraerling in the hut with a roach’s leg, too, stretched out on a hammock, and running along on the ground behind them were a pair of Fraerlings, a young man and woman who seemed scuffed up and quite fit! Lyonette took it all in, then ran over.

“Ulvama! Ulvama, are you okay? Erin, you learned how to abduct people with your door? No, wait, is this some other power? Am I in Baleros? Can you take me back?”

Her frantic shouting and appearance should have alarmed the Hobgoblin or gotten some reaction, but Ulvama just kept combing the hamster’s fur, grinning as the music came from above. Lyonette felt the beetle bump again and lifted in the air several inches. She caught one part of the hut on the beetle’s back, casting around wildly, but no one reacted to her except for the young woman standing with hands in her pockets.

Erin appeared…better. She was wearing a t-shirt and shorts, predictably, but made of grass and some kind of soft, cotton-like substance. She still had scars around her neck and on her wrists, but she seemed less desperate than last time.

“They can’t hear you, Lyonette. This is just a memory. A simulation of what I’m seeing.”

Lyonette shuddered at the word ‘simulation’, but then she got it. She spun to Erin, wide-eyed.

“I knew you could do that. I think. But—dead gods, Erin, this is incredible! You told me about the beetle, and is that the angry hamster?”

“Yup. He’s a jerk. That’s Eurise, and up there is, uh, Matha. The guy in there is our [Mad Doctor], Bowom, and the two running after us are Zemmy and Mera. We’re on the move. We left the Fraerling villages yesterday. I didn’t even include the others leaving the villages. Some are meeting up with us, some are just—leaving.”

She wore a bittersweet smile at that, as if she’d again done a bad thing, or perhaps just not a perfectly good one. But it wasn’t—bad. Lyonette gasped as she put two and two together.

“Oh. Oh my. You’re going to a Fraerling city?”

“The nearest one.”

Erin nodded. She was sitting cross-legged on the beetle’s head, used to every bump that sent Lyonette flying. The [Princess] stumbled as she landed, then blurted out.

“What’s wrong this time?”

“Wrong? Oh…”

Erin blinked and then ruffled her hair.

“Nothing for once.”

“Truly? You’re actually just checking in, like you promised? You? Keeping to a schedule?”

The [Innkeeper] scowled at Lyonette, but without any real wrath.

“Hey, I can remember things. Yeah, it’s just, well, an update. Okay, we had a problem with the, um—remember those Fraerling [Raiders]?”

“Oh no, were there more problems with—?”

“No, they were just kids. I overreacted. And then I nearly got in a fight with a bunch of mean aphids, but nothing’s happened the last few days. We had a really nice sendoff, and now we’re on the road.”

Lyonette waited for the ‘but’. Something like ‘but we’re out of food’ or ‘and I have this strange cough where I cough up blood, but I’m sure it’s fine’ or ‘and there are a hundred thousand ants following us’, but Erin said nothing more. She seemed to find it just as incongruous as Lyonette.

“So you’re…okay? Why did you call me?”

The [Innkeeper] blinked at Lyonette, and then she glanced at Ulvama. She cleared her throat as her eyes lingered on the Hobgoblin.

“Ulvama was really worried about all of you at the inn. And I thought—it’d be good if you knew I was okay. Our weekly check-in, remember?”

Lyonette had asked for that, but she was amazed that Erin had kept to it. She took a seat, or tried to, and the next bump from the Corumdon Beetle nearly sent her flying six whole inches in the air.

“Aaah!”

“Careful! You just have to move with the beetle!”

Erin jumped and grabbed Lyonette; she swung them through the air, and they landed on the beetle’s shell. Lyonette stumbled and felt embarrassed at how sure-footed Erin was.

“I’m sorry, I’m a bit—drunk.”

“Whaaa? You’re touching the devil’s juice? You, Lyonette?”

Erin feigned mock-outrage, but Lyonette was relieved to see a twinkle in her eyes. The [Princess] put her hands on her hips.

“I’ll have you know I only had…half a bottle. Practically only one with all the other drinks.”

“Oh, okay. That’s fine.”

Erin’s expression cleared, and Lyonette smiled. Then the [Innkeeper] did a bit of math on her fingers.

“Wait, that’s a lot…right? One bottle of cider?”

The [Princess] just laughed. She swung herself around, then peered around.

“Dead gods! This is amazing, Erin! Everything looks completely foreign from this height! That’s a tree? It’s like Oteslia’s tree!”

“You should try climbing one. It’s easier than you’d think. Still hard, but you can climb a lot more, and you feel like a superperson as a Fraerling.”

“If that’s how big a hamster is…birds and bugs must be a nightmare!”

Lyonette stared at the Battle Hamster, and Erin nodded.

“But they’re not as horrific as you’d think. Somehow, they’re more like giant animals when you’re their size. So you’re more wary than grossed out. I punched a cockroach the other day, and it barely bothered me.”

She wiped one hand on her shirt.

“…Gutting it was a lot nastier, and I didn’t try eating it. It had little eggs that the Fraerlings made for breakfast. You, uh, get used to the food. Sort of.”

“Ancestors.”

The [Princess] blanched, but then she saw the [Innkeeper] swaying to the music. She glanced up at the Fraerling playing.

“Matha? Isn’t that, um, the one who kidnapped…?”

“Yeah, I hate her guts. She insisted on coming along, and Ulvama said we had to bring her.”

“Because you almost killed her.”

The [Innkeeper] wore a guilty expression, but then she turned to Lyonette.

“—So I’m doing okay. How about you? Lyonette? Lyonette…?”

For answer, the [Princess] swayed over to Erin and put her arms around her friend. She embraced Erin in a sloppy, maudlin hug.

“Erin. I’ve missed you. I wish you were back!”

She felt tears coming on, and the [Innkeeper] took stock of Lyonette’s current inebriated state. Her eyes focused, then softened.

“Aw, man. Are you having a bad day?”

“No! Yes!”

“Did someone cause trouble at the inn? I can’t sense it that much…is there a big hole in the common room? Or—well, what is it? C’mon, let me know. I’m still the [Innkeeper].”

Erin sat Lyonette down, and the [Princess] held on to Erin, unwilling to let go. The [Innkeeper] even felt sturdier! Lyonette realized…Erin was the only person that she could go to with her problems. The adult to Lyonette, much like she was to Mrsha.

“Erin—I just declared the inn was independent from Liscor! And the damn elections are going on—and I think the undead are going crazy, and I don’t know how to talk to Arrema! And I want to get Tessa back, but I’m worried—”

“Uh. Wait, go back to the first one? You did what?”

“They were going to tax us! I had to!”

“Taxes.”

Erin muttered darkly, and she heard Lyonette out as the [Princess] spilled all the things that’d been bothering her.

“And what’s so jarring is—Mrsha and Nanette are being good! I haven’t heard a peep from either one.”

“Uh oh. Did Mrsha find another Creler nest or something? Is she hiding Shield Spiders in the basement or…?”

Lyonette shook her head vigorously.

“She’s actually just being good after all that’s happened. I…think…”

She’d have to check the basement. Just in case. Erin patted Lyonette on the shoulder. It was surreal being so close to the [Innkeeper] again. The last few times, she’d seemed at a great remove, for all they were in the same ‘room’.

The [Innkeeper]’s hazel eyes were focused on Lyonette.

“I’m sorry I left it all to you, Lyonette. I know you can handle it. But I wish I were back too. I’m coming, I promise.”

“I know. And Ishkr is wonderful, and I have Todi and Captain Earlia’s teams and…I’m just lost without you, Erin. I know I was always impatient with you, but now I’m making all the decisions, they never feel like the right ones.”

“Yeah, that’s normal. You just keep making choices until you find something you know is right.”

That made…sense. Lyonette sniffed and calmed down. Erin regarded her, then turned and stared at the moving scenery.

“I wasn’t there for the palace. I know.”

“Oh, but you were, Erin. You were, and you were wonderful. Even when you shouldn’t have been, you were there.”

The [Princess] remembered the burning [Innkeeper] fighting the Witch of Webs, and no one, surely, could ask for more than that. Erin didn’t understand, of course. She hadn’t been there. Lyonette wished Erin could have seen herself…but that was too heavy a conversation for this moment. Erin was shaking her head.

“I wish I had some kind of super-item to give you. Aside from the…boxes, of course.”

“They’ve been helpful enough. And if I needed something else, I’d just go raid your gardens, Erin.”

The [Innkeeper] winced at the way Lyonette said it, but nodded. The [Princess] added softly.

“Besides, short of a Goblin King, I’m ready. The [Palace] was beyond anything I expected, but if it’s just Tyrion Veltras—I can handle it.”

This time, Erin gave her a suspicious eye, and Lyonette would have elaborated, but the [Innkeeper] just shrugged.

“Good. You’re always better prepared than I am, Lyonette. Like I said, the most valuable thing I have in my rooms would be the chess set to play Niers. You could send a coded message, but that’s about all, and I doubt he checks…no, wait. There is something you could use.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

Erin frowned, snapping her fingers.

“It’s in my rooms…in a jewelry box that Krshia gave me. It’s probably the only thing in there. It might be on my desk, or it’s in the wardrobe in one of the lower drawers. Probably next to my socks. It’s the ring that Ilvriss gave me.”

“Oh. Oh! That one? That’s useful.”

Having worn it before, Lyonette respected its powers, even if it wasn’t like her Ring of Conflagrations, which could spit [Fireballs]. Erin spoke to Lyonette.

“If you want it, it might come in handy. At least for pulling rank on Drakes.”

“I’ll take it, then. Just in case. Thank you, Erin. But I’m really not concerned about safety for the moment.”

Lyonette reassured Erin and saw the [Innkeeper] relax. Then she added, trying not to sound petulant.

“I didn’t even mention the worst part, really. The taxes were just one thing.”

The [Innkeeper]’s voice rose slightly with faint anxiety.

“Wait, there’s more? What’s the worst part?”

“Pawn’s trying to start our relationship up again. Well, he says friendship, but I think he’s hoping for more than that.”

“Ah.”

The expression on Erin Solstice’s face said that she knew too much and would prefer not to know any more. Lyonette, however, was far too drunk to spare Erin’s sensibilities.

“I know you knew about me and Pawn…it made sense at the time, but now we just don’t fit quite right, Erin, you know?”

“Um. Nope. Relationship advice isn’t for me. Isn’t, uh, that Lord Pellmia guy around? Or Ishkr? Menolit? Mrsha?”

The [Innkeeper] was trying to be supportive, but Lyonette just flopped against her. Now she was getting used to the beetle, she felt relaxed, sleepy, as they trundled along in the warm jungle. This was…beautiful.

When Erin looked around, she seemed more alive.

Younger. Like an actual young woman.

I want to be here with you. Everyone in the inn, with a magic door so we can join your adventure. But I want you to be unable to come back…because I think this is actually good for you, roaches and all.

Lyonette felt that so strongly she wanted to weep. Weep for the relaxed, smiling [Innkeeper] she’d thought had vanished forever. The only thing she resented was not being here with Erin.

“I feel silly about Pawn, Erin. I thought we’d be in love…forever. But just like all the poets say, it was only for a few months. Then I was so worried about Mrsha and everything else, it felt like we were strangers when we met again. You know?”

“Seriously, I don’t. I have only a few relationships under my belt, Lyonette. Is that how you say it? Under your belt? Yuck, that sounds gross, actually.”

Erin grimaced, and Lyonette laughed up at her. Then she grew serious as only a very drunk person could. Because she had the liquid courage to ask the questions she and everyone else hadn’t ever really dared to ask.

“Did you…ever find anyone you liked so much it hurt, Erin?”

“Me? No.”

The [Innkeeper] said it so simply and easily that it pained Lyonette’s heart. Erin brushed at her white patch of hair.

“Well, the relationship hurt. But never like…wanting someone so bad like that, I guess. It sounds nice.”

“It’s terrible. And wonderful. Not once?”

The [Innkeeper] shrugged, defensive.

“I didn’t meet that many guys, Lyonette. One time, I accidentally dated a girl online…most chess dudes are, um…chess…dudes.”

“Ah. On par with a 4th [Prince] of the realm?”

“…Probably below that. Do [Princes] bathe regularly?”

The [Princess] gave Erin such a morose stare that the [Innkeeper] began chuckling. She hugged her ribs as if they hurt, and Lyonette began giggling too. Then she remembered…that was what she was missing.

Her best friend.

“Erin, you have to come back. I miss you! Everyone keeps living their lives without you and treating us like we’re just…an inn. You have to come back and push over a building in Invrisil!”

“I promise I’ll do that once I get back. Is Pawn really the worst of it, Lyonette?”

She gave Erin a serious gaze.

“Well, that, and Future-Pawn became the [Prophet] who nearly destroyed everything, so…yes. I’m rather afraid that if I reject him, he’ll become the same Prophet! Only more radical.”

The [Innkeeper] had to admit this was a good point. She stared up at the trees passing overhead as the Battle Hamster began sneezing on Eurise, who was tickling his nose with some wild cotton. They began fighting and leapt from the beetle’s back in amazing displays of martial arts as Lyonette and Erin watched.

“Y’know, Lyonette, you can’t date someone or be worried about rejecting them because they might become a religious maniac. But that’s just my opinion.”

It turned out that Erin was full of relationship-wisdom on par with Lord Pellmia! Lyonette drunkenly sat up.

“I’ll remember that! Can I tell Pawn that you thought a relationship wasn’t a good idea?”

“Aw, don’t drag me into it. Um…fine.”

“Wait, wait—what if you called him into your [Pavilion of Secrets] and told him not to attempt to date me?”

“No…no. I’m not doing that.”

Lyonette pouted, then put her head down in Erin’s lap. The [Innkeeper] gently picked up Lyonette’s head and put her on the beetle’s shell instead. She got up with a sigh, stretching out her back.

“Whoops, I forgot that I can’t exercise in here. This is from earlier. It’s night right now, and we’re about to stop. And you’re…?”

“At the bar. Drinking.”

“Huh. Well, I can’t help with Pawn, Lyonette. But, uh, you’re not the only one with unwanted romance. Poor Ulvama has Matha flirting with her. She says it’s fine, but it’s really annoying.”

Erin developed a scowl as she pointed up at the guitar-playing Fraerling, but unlike a real expression of her ire, this was just hilarious. She flopped onto her stomach.

“Oh, really? Well, Ulvama can handle her. I’m more amazed that a Fraerling is interested in a Goblin.”

The [Innkeeper]’s scowl deepened.

“Yeah, they’re really open-minded. Did you know? Her grandmother told me Matha’s a…lesbian!”

She glanced around before whispering that to Lyonette. The [Princess] gave Erin a very serious look.

“Erin, I don’t know what that is.”

“Oh. Uh…”

After a brief explanation, Lyonette got it, but she didn’t feel much of anything at the news. The [Princess] knew her Terandrian roots should have her exclaim in horror at this point, but after having met various people in the inn and having a good talk with Rose…she just raised her eyebrows.

“Terrifying, Erin. Far worse than that fellow with the roach leg.”

“Who, Bowom? Absolutely. He’s really cool. I just hope I don’t lose a limb with him around because he’ll probably get me a new one. But it’s annoying! And I think Ulvama’s encouraging it.”

“Dear me.”

Erin eyed Lyonette as the [Princess] rolled up the Corumdon Beetle’s back, giggling to herself.

“I feel like you’re not taking this seriously, Lyonette.”

“Erin, if the worst you have is a Fraerling flirting with Ulvama, I am very relieved. I wish…I had someone nice flirting with me. Not Pawn, but someone I could talk to.”

She lay morosely on her stomach. Erin pointed a finger at her.

“You’re weird. What happened to self-sufficient, tough Lyonette?”

“I’m lonely, Erin. I’d rather have some—interesting, casual, fun relationship with someone handsome, knowledgeable, who can dance…something less involved than the inn!”

“Huh, I’m…too busy for that. And so is Ulvama.”

Erin stared at the Hobgoblin, longer than was mannerful, but since it was just her memory, the Hobgoblin didn’t react. Erin hesitated, then walked over next to Ulvama and sat down. Lyonette sat up and squinted.

“Really now?”

She felt her buzzing mind focus for a moment, but she was so doubtful of the conclusion her alcohol-soused brain gave her that she shook her head. She stood up, and Erin smiled wistfully up at her.

“Yeah. I’ll figure that out when I get back to civilization. And if you’re gonna date someone…maybe not an Antinium? They’re pretty young, Lyonette. So are Hobgoblins. Like Numbtongue.”

“Erin, I may throw up on you. The idea.”

“Oh, good. I wasn’t sure if his [Bard] powers were still active…”

The [Princess] sat next to Erin, glancing at the [Innkeeper], who was now distracted for some reason.

“He’s another reason why we need you back. Oh, Erin, I don’t want to burden you, and I’m so glad you seem better.”

“Me too, Lyonette.”

Erin glanced at her, and the [Princess] heard another foreign song being played on the guitar overhead. Erin glowered, but Lyonette’s eyes twinkled with a sudden idea.

“Well, I’ll be fine, Erin. I’m feeling better, truly. Strange, I never thought about…seeing another woman. It’s rather unappealing.”

Or to be precise, it made none of her that interested. Even Pawn made her more wistful than that. Erin blinked.

“What? Uh, yeah. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Equal marriage and everything.”

“Mhm.”

The [Princess] leaned over and rested her chin on Erin’s shoulder. The [Innkeeper] frowned at her.

“You really are drunk. Be sure to lay off the strong stuff, okay? What were you drinking, Rxlvn?”

Lyonette chuckled.

“Just enough to stop worrying so hard. And to embarrass my mother, which I realize isn’t a splendid motivation…”

“Yeah, uh, that sounds bad. You sober up with one of Octavia’s drinks, m’kay? That’s an order! Promise me in the [Pavilion of Secrets]!”

Erin pointed at Lyonette, and she sounded so much like her old self for a moment that Lyonette’s heart hurt.

“I will. But on the topic of relationships, Erin…”

“Aw, man. You’ll find someone, Lyonette! There’s plenty of fish around Liscor. It’s still raining, right?”

The [Princess] laughed. Then she leaned closer.

“I’ll go searching, maybe. But if there was a woman I’d consider trying a relationship with, well, there’s only one person.”

“Who? Is it Selys? Krsh—”

The [Princess] pecked Erin on the cheek. It was just a quick smooch, but Erin Solstice froze up—then performed an eight-inch jump into the air. The [Princess] was laughing even as the idea solidified in her head.

“Why not, Erin? If you’re interested, I’ll—”

She tried to embrace Erin. The [Innkeeper] picked up the drunk [Princess] in her arms. Then she gave Lyonette a huge smile—and tossed her off the beetle.

“Nothing personal, Lyonette! But you’re acting really Nerrhavia-like right now!”

The young woman screamed as the ground flashed towards her.

“Eriiiiiin—”

 

——

 

She moved off of her barstool in a defensive roll as the [Pavilion of Secrets] ended and did more damage to herself than a fall from a beetle’s back would have.

“Argh! Oh—my spleen! My legs!”

The crash of four barstools and a Gobin falling on the [Princess] made Arrema and Lord Raithland turn and stare at her. Arrema peered down at the groaning Lyonette.

“Hey, uh, you okay, M—Lyonette?”

The appalled servants were rushing forward when Lyonette popped up.

“I’m fantastic!”

And she did a cartwheel on the spot. She laughed at the expression of the servants, and Mrsha and Nanette blinked. But Lyonette was suddenly giddy—she cast around, then did a frontflip onto a table.

That was a [Flawless Attempt], but it was worth it for the jaws dropping. The [Princess] snatched a mug up from Relc, who happened to be sitting at the table with Valeterisa.

“Hey.”

“Drinking is worthwhile after all! One more mistake for the night. Why was I even gloomy?”

“Because you seceded from Liscor? How drunk is she, Ishkr? What’d you give her?”

Arrema called out and leaned over the cup, which Ishkr was sniffing suspiciously. But his head rose, and Lyonette mouthed a name at him.

Erin. His eyes went wide, and she swivelled to Mrsha and Nanette. They sat up, and when they saw Lyonette smiling—the [Princess] gazed around.

Erin was okay. She was smiling! And—Lyonette felt giddy at the stupid thought she’d had. She just had to tell Ushar, Mrsha, Bird, Nanette, and everyone else. But later. Oh, and Rose! Dead gods, Rose, her favorite Earther!

It wasn’t about that fake confession to Erin—well, fake as you got in the [Pavilion of Secrets]. It was just seeing her [Innkeeper] smile. So long as she was alright, it felt like Lyonette could handle things here.

She did a twirl on the table—Relc and Valeterisa saved their plates as they hurried to another table.

“Seceding from Liscor? Hah! I’ll do it again in a heartbeat! Let the Council complain—I’ll blow up City Hall! Just give me an excuse—Lord Raithland, Arrema, let’s raze the first city that gives us another problem!”

“Whoo! Go young-M—Lyonette! I haven’t seen a good city-razing in years!”

Arrema waved her paws, and the half-Giant just chuckled. But Lyonette was dancing on the table. She laughed as the people in the inn took notes or suggested cities. And her daughters at the table regarded Hethon and Sammial.

“Mrsha, your mom’s so cool. All our mom did when she got drunk is throw things. And threaten to erase cities, but they were all Drake ones.”

Sammy confided to her in all seriousness. Hethon nodded, eyes on Lyonette with another of adolescence’s temporary crushes. Jericha was trying to get them not to take this as an example of what they should do, but Mrsha just scribbled back.

Perhaps I’ve been wrong about this alcohol thing. It looks quite fun.

Nanette nodded as Lyonette laughed happily for the first time in weeks. The two boys glanced around to see if they could try a mug, and Bird fanned her wings and stroked her chin.

“Yes, I too must re-evaluate my position on this horrible drink. Bartender, a mead for me and the table!”

She slapped the table, and Asgra took her order and came back with five mugs—which Jericha instantly confiscated. Not to be deterred, Bird un-confiscated them and walked out the door.

Later reports from spies would reveal that Bird had found a local farm belonging to a Farmer Himilt and gotten eight birds and several goats drunk along with herself. As for the [Princess], she vanished into the [World’s Eye Theatre] after a few more minutes of cavorting on the table. But the inn was smiling after that.

Where the [Princess] led in mood, the rest followed. Or, rather, the [Innkeeper]. Nanette and Mrsha, sadly sober, ended up practicing square dancing with the more sober members of the inn, twirling around and locking elbows. Giggling until sleep hit.

As for Lyonette, she was smiling until her head hit the pillow. A silly, inconsequential night. Sometimes, that’s all you wanted.

 

——

 

Of course, she woke up with a splitting headache the next day. Lyonette sat up, groaning in agony, then took the Hangover Tonic that Dame Ushar proffered to her. She drank it, then beamed.

“Oh, that was a splendid night. Dead gods, I don’t see what the problem with drinking is! Erin was always so down on it.”

“Most people do not have Hangover Tonics of sufficient quality, and I believe Earthers like Miss Erin do not have them at all, Your Highness.”

“I can’t imagine how you’d live like that, Ushar.”

Lyonette cartwheeled out her door just for the heck of it.

 

——

 

Alright, in truth, Lyonette did feel a bit better after last night, and not because of the alcohol. It was just Erin.

She felt like she could handle the world’s problems now, and the very first thing she did was check on what mattered.

Well, strictly speaking, the first thing Lyonette did was go to Erin’s room and find the ring that Erin had mentioned. She stared at the ring that Ilvriss had given Erin and then slipped it on. It was familiar and plain, and Lyonette smiled at it with a hint of nostalgia for the…well, differently bad old days.

She forgot she had it on as she hurried to her tasks with a determined air. The moment Lyonette came downstairs, someone rose to their feet.

“Miss Lyonette? I’m from Liscor’s Council—”

She flashed a huge smile at the Gnoll and turned away.

“Once Ishkr gets in, I’m sure he’ll be delighted to speak with you, sir.”

“Actually, I was hoping to speak to—”

The Gnollish [Negotiator] ran into Ser Dalimont as the [Knight] emerged from the gym and finished his morning workout, a towel around his neck and sweat running down his biceps. Lyonette saw him put an arm out and halt the Gnoll.

Both she and the Gnoll gave the man a second look. Without his armor, Ser Dalimont appeared a lot sharper than the man who’d first come after her to bring her home. Part of that was probably his advancing level and battle experience…but part of it was also, perhaps, access to the gymnasium.

His arms and legs and other parts of his physique were far more developed. Certainly enough for the Gnoll to hesitate as Dalimont politely chivvied him back to his seat.

Lyonette stared a bit longer than she needed to, and when she glanced around, she saw a head of brown hair disappear back upstairs. Which told her that Nanette had been right there. Perhaps waiting to see Ser Dalimont finishing his workout as well?

That’s not very discreet of Nanette. Did I do that when I was fourteen? Of course not! Lyonette’s memory presented her with an image of the younger [Princess] just casually hanging out around the Thronebearers’ practice courts. She instantly thought about putting her head through a wall. Because in hindsight, all the Thronebearers would have known what she was doing, ogling them as they worked out. Much less poor Thronebearers having to field questions from the [Princess] doing her best to be innocent…

Dead gods, memory was a terrible thing. She almost reached for another bottle before shaking her head.

The point was that she had an appreciation for Ser Dalimont. That was all! The very idea of doing anything more with a [Knight] in service to her was a terrible idea on all fronts. But it rather, ah, confirmed something Lyonette had been thinking of.

Firstly, she hadn’t lied to Erin. Well, she’d lied in the sense that she’d been very drunk and said what she’d been thinking at the moment to get a rise out of the other woman, but she definitely appreciated the male form in a way the female one didn’t do for her.

Second…she was perhaps a bit too lonely for her own good. Which again didn’t mean she was going to jump back into Pawn’s arms.

Wonderful, another problem for me to deal with. At least she could push ‘romance’ down to the bottom of a rapidly-filling queue. And she had the bandwidth to deal with problems this time. First off after mandatory Dalimont appreciation: Vaulont!

 

——

 

“Vaulont, are you well? I have breakfast if you’re able to stomach it.”

That was both a question about his mood as well as whether his stomach had a hole in it. When the Vampire answered in the affirmative, Lyonette opened the door and found him sitting up in bed. He was thoroughly bandaged, and when she entered with a jar of blood on a tray and some porridge on the side, he blinked.

“Where did that…?”

“Liscor’s blood bank. I asked Fierre what might be appropriate.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

He seemed startled to have her waiting on him, but Lyonette just put the tray down on a little stand that Asgra brought into the room.

“Do you mind debriefing me on what you saw?”

He nodded as he sat up a bit more and winced. Asgra waved a claw.

“You want me to feed you?”

Vaulont shook his head. Vaguely disappointed, the Cave Goblin retreated. Which made Lyonette think that Asgra admired Vaulont for his ability to kill…or maybe it was his red eyes and pointed teeth. Or maybe Asgra just thought that was a better job than working a morning shift.

“What can you tell me about Tenbault, Vaulont? This can wait if you’re unwell—I know you came in just past dawn via the door, but I was, ah, sound asleep.”

Or drunk. Vaulont found a spoon and hesitated as he reached for the blood. But after she nodded encouragingly, he picked up a metal straw and poked through the cork at the top of the glass jar.

“Honestly, there’s not much. It’s hard to notice Shriekblade at the best of times, and most of Tenbault is just focused on the Healer. She’s tripled her prices, but she’s doubled how many patients she sees per day.”

“She has? Dead gods, doesn’t she charge a fortune?”

Lyonette was astounded, and Vaulont nodded.

“And she’s cut down on the lottery for free healings. It feels like she’s…panicked. That’s just my perception. She’s generating as much gold as she can, even though it’s ruining her reputation.”

The [Princess] trusted that. Lyonette recalled that Valeterisa had obtained the [Restoration] spell—if the Healer knew that, she might be trying to cash in on her power while she could.

“I assume that doesn’t help the mood of the city.”

“No. I witnessed several fights, and it struck me as unsafe. Only her Named-rank bodyguard and the adventurers keep order around the place. And…Shriekblade. But she seems like she’s gone wild. All the [Drug Dealers] and the [Fences] I spoke to knew her, but they were terrified.”

“Oh, Tessa. Is—why is she like that?”

Vaulont rubbed at his stomach and avoided meeting her eyes.

“At a guess? I think she’s making use of the Healer’s talents.”

Lyonette gave him a blank look.

“But she said the Healer could cure her…”

Then she remembered what Tessa used to say, and Vaulont explained.

“Healing resets you. It also means if you were resistant to a drug, you’re back to square one. Or so I’ve heard. She could go on binges and then reset—”

The worst thing for an addict to face. One of Roshal’s agents had done something to her. Lyonette squeezed her eyes shut.

“And the moment you ran into her, she attacked you?”

Vaulont shifted and glanced out the window.

“She…detected me. I thought my approach was good, but she was too vigilant despite whatever she was on. At least some of it was Selphid’s Dust. That heightens your senses. She only stopped attacking when I told her I was here on your orders. Then she fled.”

“She would have killed you unless you were high-level or…you.”

Lyonette eyed his wounds, which were still visibly healing, and Vaulont shrugged.

“I’d do the same thing if I thought someone dangerous at my level was approaching. I got away, and I could have put up a good fight if I were trying to kill her…but with respect, I don’t want to do that again.”

He gave her a mildly embarrassed gaze, recalling his boasts to her yesterday, but she just patted the blanket over his knee.

“You’ve given me enough, Vaulont. Knowing what condition Tessa is in…I must act sooner and without stealth. You rest.”

He nodded, but raised a hand. She halted at the door.

“You shouldn’t go to Tenbault until I’ve recovered, Lyonette. And I’d bring Elia and Bird and the [Knights]. Just in case.”

“She’s not that far gone.”

Lyonette wanted to believe that, but Vaulont just shrugged.

“There’s also Crowdcaller Merdon. If the Healer thinks she’s losing her best bodyguard—and she needs Tessa with the unrest—she might act rashly.”

A warning well needed. Lyonette sighed. But then she squared her shoulders.

Take my life one battle at a time. She thanked Vaulont and headed downstairs for a new encounter. She thought it was going to be Liscor’s envoy. But that [Negotiator] was outclassed.

 

——

 

A man was waiting for Lyonette as Mrsha and Nanette waited for breakfast. Which was a jambalaya, courtesy of Imani’s recipes, delivered with a flourish by Calescent.

The Gnollish [Negotiator] drew back at the advent of the Goblin. He backed up a step—and then kept backing up until he nearly hit a wall and was utterly confused. He tried to move forwards—but it was like a force was pressing him against the wall.

Not Ser Dalimont. The Gnoll began to open his mouth—and a friendly, clawed hand clasped his shoulder.

“[Lose a Step, Lose Ten Feet]. You can’t flinch when you want something. You need to smile at a Creler, young man. Here to see the Princess?”

“What? I—yes. I’m Negotiator Harclaw, on the business of Liscor’s Council—”

He found himself shaking hands with a Drake who was heavy-set and wearing robes. Harclaw was a no-nonsense Gnoll used to arguing with [Merchants] and busybodies. Not the inn, but every other [Negotiator] had failed. He had a firm handshake—but this Drake had a handshake you could use to hold a bridge together.

One bright eye blasted Harclaw like a [Lightbeam] spell, and the dizzy [Negotiator] stumbled. Diplomat Nerul caught him, eased him into a seat, and waved a hand.

“A drink for my friend here. Pardon me, young man, but I’m on urgent business as well. Salazsar. You know how it is. A bit of a lesson—mind what you gulp and hope you level.”

“Uh—uh—thank you. Did you say—?”

Woozy, stunned, the poor young Gnoll reached for the cup that Nerul had paid for and took a deep gulp. Then he choked as the burning glass of clear alcohol hit his stomach like a punch. He gave the Cave Goblin a betrayed eye. Asgra just rubbed her hands together.

“This fun after all!”

She skipped off as Nerul barrelled towards Lyonette, a smile on his face.

Salazsar’s strongest [Diplomat]—perhaps the highest-levelled in all the Walled Cities—walked towards Lyonette, who was having breakfast with her daughters and discussing the day’s events with them.

Lyonette did not need more headaches, a fact that the staff and her bodyguards knew quite well. Besides, there was decorum to having a quiet breakfast. So Ser Dalimont moved to intercept as a Calanferian servant tried to pull the old ‘water glass’ distraction.

“Oops, I’m so sorry, s—”

Nerul whirled like a [Dancer], caught the tripping young man by the arm, and had him in a seat with the tray balanced. He patted the [Servant]’s shoulder.

“Not to worry, young man, it happens to us all. Let’s have [No More Accidents], shall we?”

A wink, and Xinthe stirred from her spot where she was watching him. Oh, he was good. But he was coming at Dalimont now, and the Thronebearer was beaming. Ready to offer Nerul a meal and a drink and block him physically from reaching Lyonette.

Nerul opened his mouth to call out, and Dalimont triggered a [Silence] spell.

Unfortunately, he was up against the Drake who’d negotiated the end of the Retirement War between Oteslia and Salazsar. Nerul saw the Thronebearer activating Skills, gathering himself like a bulwark of propriety—and Dalimont had levelled too. A Gold-ranker’s strength in the form of a [Knight], armor and dignity.

In response, Nerul spread his arms like a [Vizir of Villainous Deeds] and smiled. The light flashed off his teeth and ostentatious, bejeweled rings. His own aura coalesced until you could see vivid purple trails of what seemed like smoke rising from his body.

Aura clash? Dalimont eyed Nerul as the Drake approached, arms still outspread like the final encounter of one of Kevin’s fighting games. Dalimont braced for a push—and then saw Nerul stop concentrating, then mouth silently.

The Thronebearer blinked, chanced a glance over his shoulder, and realized he’d already lost. Why?

Well—Nanette and Mrsha were both staring at the Thronebearer and [Diplomat] squaring off in silent drama, and Lyonette had twisted around in her chair and noticed Nerul.

The [Diplomat] winked as Dalimont groaned. Possibly, the battle had already been lost the moment Nerul entered the common room unchallenged. All he had to do was get their attention. With a bow, Dalimont deactivated the [Silence] spell and moved out of the way.

“A visitor for you, Your Highness.”

“Nerul, you certainly make an entrance! I would have thought the staff would put up something of a fight against you.”

The [Diplomat] sat with a sigh, beaming around the table, and nodded at Lyonette.

“Oh, they did their best, but they always underestimate us Drakes. That’s why I like our diplomatic corps. Lower their expectations and let me come in and clean house every now and then. At least, that’s how I have to rationalize it so I don’t drink myself under the table. I’ll have what Miss Mrsha and Miss Nanette are having. Hello, hello! How are things going in the inn of late? Calescent, good day to you! Hold the death spices!”

He shouted at the kitchen, and Calescent called a greeting. Despite knowing he was here on business, Lyonette hid a smile. Nerul embodied the best parts of Calanfer’s diplomatic abilities to her.

“How can we help you, Diplomat Nerul? Things have been ah, usually unusual here. Can I help you with anything this morning?”

“Oh, let’s not rush things over breakfast. Miss Mrsha, you’ve lost weight. Can I get you anything from Invrisil the next time I visit? And you, Miss Nanette—wonderful attire.”

He gazed at Nanette’s new outfit she’d selected from yesterday without a hint of irony, and his eyes flicked to Lyonette when she froze up. However, Mrsha just smiled and wrote to Nerul that she was eating tons, and Nanette beamed at the compliment.

The Drake cast around the room and exhaled.

“Goblin Kings. Damndest things. They just pop up like that.”

He snapped his fingers, and everyone realized he had no idea what had gone on with the [Palace of Fates]—not more than anyone else. But he had walked in here and was just…rolling with it.

You had to admire the Drake’s bravery. Lyonette raised a truth stone that Ushar handed her as she eyed Nanette’s new clothing, which was a blazing red, Drathian-style shirt two sizes too big over a too-short yellow dress…but that was okay because it was paired with orange shorts and pink socks. In theory, it would be a great fire-patterned outfit, except for the fact that it made Nanette look like she was two sizes bigger and at the same time had no bones.

“You didn’t even lie, Diplomat Nerul?”

He gave her a mildly outraged gaze.

“Miss Lyonette, I don’t lie when the truth works better. I delight in Miss Nanette’s outfit. If everyone in Invrisil or Salazsar dressed like that, my mood would never be dour! We should be encouraging, shouldn’t we? And might I add, the [Druid] outfit rather suited you.”

She blushed mightily as he grinned and faced Nanette.

“You should try young Salazsarian fashion. It’s all gemstones. You sew them into everything. The bigger and shinier, the better. It’s meant to offend the eye and tell you how much they’re worth. A [Thief] with a knife’s wet dream.”

Nanette laughed.

“I want something practical, Diplomat Nerul!”

Practical? You can’t even swim in that.

Mrsha shot back as Lyonette, scandalized by Nerul’s wet dream comment, shot him a glare. But the Drake was already turning to Peggy to ask another question.

“And how are you, Peggy? Run into any other events during this Goblin King fiasco?”

The [Floorboss] just pointed at Lyonette.

“Is big secret, Diplomat. You rogue. You talk to Princess Lyonette.”

Nerul’s eyes twinkled as he returned his gaze to Lyonette.

“You’ve trained them well. Asking a Goblin or Antinium is basic, but I’d expect the [Spies] to have worked up to that level.”

Lyonette blinked, twisted in her chair, and glanced at Ushar.

“Has anyone tried that?”

The Thronebearer smiled despite herself.

“A Drowned Man tried to buy several Antinium on Rosencrantz’s crew a pie and offered to pay for their entry into an Antinium pet café. They refused. Several of Xinthe’s staff were paid to talk. They did, though the veracity of their claims is dubious. And I did hear two tried to bribe the Goblins. They laugh in such hurtful ways.”

“A pleasure to work with professionals.”

Nerul reached out and took a cup of water from the table, then toasted them all and drank, ignoring the clear glass of alcohol on a tray that Asgra had brought over. Joseph, who’d joined them, made the mistake of reaching for the glass. One mouthful and he sprayed it to the side.

“I’m afraid the events in question are rather secret, Nerul, but I’d be delighted to furnish you with some details—in private. Have you been keeping up with Ilvriss?”

Lyonette spoke as Joseph washed out his mouth with water. The reformed alcoholic got applause from Nanette and Mrsha as he glared at Asgra, and the Calanferians tried to appear innocent. Nerul sighed.

“I haven’t seen my nephew in months. So—what’s new? Mostly, I’ve been keeping nobles off his back. The big players, that is. Remarkable how you can divert even the legendary Reinharts. I threw one of them at Liscor, with apologies. A nasty woman, Cecille Reinhart. But an honest conversation and she was put onto an opportunity in the city.”

“That won’t hurt Liscor, will it?”

“I doubt it. I placed a bug in her ear about the dangers of, well, bugs ripping off your ears.”

Nerul waved the question away, and Lyonette wondered what that meant, but Nerul accepted the jambalaya and tucked into it with relish.

“Ah, not even poisoned. We’re all friends here after all! It’s Ilvriss I wanted to talk to you about. Now, I could ride on over to him and try to sort things out, but he’s dealing with a host of problems, and why bother negotiating when you could just bypass a lot of talking? He’d very much appreciate it if you could send a door as far northeast as you can—I have the exact location, and he could send a rider to you. And through the door, he’d like to purchase food, potentially more manpower, and supplies, wholesale. It’s a wonderful business opportunity.”

Ilvriss? Mrsha and Nanette sat up, and Joseph, coughing, frowned.

“That’s the Wall Lord guy who likes the inn, right?”

He eyed Lyonette, and she nodded, frowning. She decoded what Nerul had said.

“So no one’s selling him food? But he is digging?”

“He is digging, and he would love a magical connection to the inn or anywhere else. I had a thought that he might buy from Riverfarm? If you’d be an intermediary, given the fact that they don’t like Walled Cities at this moment. Even if I pointed out it was Manus…”

Nerul shrugged. He was cutting through the problem efficiently, Lyonette realized. The inn had a magical door—and if she talked to Riverfarm for Ilvriss…

“And what do we get for all this hard work?”

Nerul beamed at her.

“Somehow, I don’t think gold is a motivation, and I’m not crass enough to threaten a friend. But if you need a favor to help out Ilvriss and myself, I’ll see what I can do!”

She resisted the urge to blush as Mrsha nudged her repeatedly. Then held up a card.

You’re a bad person for shaming Mother, Nerul. I like you. You should come by more often. Don’t negotiate with the Blighted Kingdom, you hear me?

Nerul chuckled and laughed at her card—and for one second, his eyes focused on the words, and he lost that smile and stared at Mrsha. Then a huge grin spread over his face.

“Me? I hate boat rides, Miss Mrsha, but if you’re offering fine food, I may just have to visit more regularly! Now, how fast can that door be set up?”

“Diplomat Nerul, Her Highness is rather busy.”

Ushar objected, and Nerul held up a claw, not looking away from Lyonette.

“The situation, as Ilvriss describes it, is rather urgent. I believe he was the victim of…a cattle raid? Please don’t laugh.”

Lyonette almost did; the notion was hilarious. However, another breakfast partner sat down with a frown. Colfa.

“Cattle raid? How many?”

“Nearly four hundred. Not just cattle, but chickens, goats, the lot.”

Colfa whistled.

“An all-farm raid? How many? Did you notice which group it was?”

Lyonette was getting very confused.

“What’s Ilvriss doing with four hundred cows? And what kind of [Bandit] group would raid him? He has [Soldiers]!”

“It wasn’t bandits.”

Nerul and Colfa chorused, and she gave him a respectful gaze. He bowed his head to her, and she explained.

“If it was north of here, it wasn’t [Bandits], Lyonette. Or rather, not the same. They can’t grab that many animals and herd them. Likely, it was someone who knew exactly what Ilvriss had and decided to rob him of food and a lot of gold. As for cattle—food is low after the winter frost. Even with harvests coming in, cattle would be better. But a trap.”

Nerul nodded.

“One of the self-styled [Cattle Barons] sold him a herd, and I rather suspect they or someone else had something to do with the theft. You know them, Miss Colfa?”

“Know them? Half my family would be doing the buying or selling. If he’s offended the Golvas or Lischelles or—they’re more troublesome than [Bandits].”

“He’s a Drake in the north digging, Miss Colfa; he was bound to offend someone! But it’s [Cattle Raiders] versus [Assassins]. I’ve convinced the Five Families to hold the [Assassins] until he’s found what he’s digging for. Still, he could use Miss Lyonette’s help, and I rather think he was hoping she’d have time to come visit. But all things considered, he understands why she couldn’t.”

That twisted Lyonette up with guilt. She had been intending to travel more, and she’d even bought a bicycle and practiced with it for that reason! She opened her mouth to say that she’d help, of course, they’d just need to arrange it…then she caught herself.

“No.”

Mrsha and Nanette faced her in alarm, and Nerul raised a brow. He didn’t jump to conclusions, and Lyonette spread her hands on the table.

“No delays, no delegation. I’m tired of being reactive. If Ilvriss needs food and a door—he will have it. Mrsha, dear, do you want a holiday from school?”

And that stupid little bully? Mrsha blinked, then hesitated.

Forsooth, Mother, is this an event for which I should stay home?

Lyonette gave her a happy smile.

“Not for this, and not for anything I foresee! Dalimont, get my bicycle ready, and I believe we’ll need a horse? Maybe a wagon or carriage. But I intend to cycle.”

“Your Highness, what are you planning?”

He was mildly alarmed, but Lyonette just turned to Nanette.

“Do you want to practice riding? Actually, is Kevin here?”

She didn’t see him, and she found out he was busy, but Lyonette was already speaking as she rose.

“This won’t take long. Only a few hours, hopefully. The door doesn’t have that much range even with Erin’s new levels. I want Dalimont, Ushar, Bird, Elia…and our most important guest of honor.”

Everyone regarded Nerul, and he didn’t even blink. Oh, he was good. In fact, he was even better than Lyonette knew, because he hadn’t even reacted to the name ‘Kevin’. The fact that he’d heard it showed he had dangerous levels—or was it his [Diplomat] class? He just waited as she smiled.

“Someone take over for her—but get me Liska.”

Everyone gaped, and Ishkr almost dropped his tray.

Liska?

 

——

 

The most important Gnoll in The Wandering Inn wore a vaguely surprised expression as the wind blew over her face. She was open-mouthed as she sat in the cart rolling down the road out of Invrisil, heading due east.

Lyonette was cycling next to the cart as Mrsha hung over the side, waving at people passing by and staring at the odd procession. Ser Dalimont and Ushar were riding horses, and Bird and Elia were standing, occasionally taking potshots at game.

“Wait, why am I here? Where’d the fat Drake guy go?”

Liska protested as she stood up in her seat and shaded her eyes. Everyone she was passing by was Human! This was the north, and the sun was shining down on her brown fur. She blinked, and the wagon hit a rock.

“Whoa—whoaaa!”

She fell over the side of the wagon, but someone skated by the wagon on the dirt road and caught her. Ishkr shoved his younger sister into the wagon, then did a hop and skated past the wagon, passing by the [Driver] as a [Farmer] stared at him, open-mouthed.

“Watch it, Liska. Nerul’s not here because he doesn’t need to travel. But we need you. Believe me, everything would be easier without you.”

“Hey, eat my tail, Ishkr!”

She flipped him off, then went back to staring. As for why she was here—well, wasn’t it obvious?

They needed a door to get as close to Ilvriss as possible to deliver supplies. But it was Erin’s [Door of Portals], and it no longer had the ability to just link to stones. Erin had to go somewhere first and generate a new location to connect to. And without Erin…it was impossible to add more spots.

Unless, of course, you had a [Doorgnoll] who could use Erin’s powers. Then all Liska had to do was go somewhere and—bam. That was the theory that Lyonette was operating under, and Liska had confirmed she could do that. If not, they were going to have to go all the way back, and Lyonette didn’t intend to waste time.

“This is sort of fun. Relaxing. Do we have anything to eat?”

Liska commented to Bird, who aimed up at a passing hawk and offered to shoot it down. Elia kept ducking to avoid being recognized. After the eighth time she did that, Bird got tired and shot the tailfeathers off a crow. She buzzed off the wagon and came hop-gliding back.

“Here. This is for you, Elia, so you do not get recognized as a horrible failure.”

She had made a black mustache of feathers which she tried to get Elia to wear. The Named-rank adventurer objected.

“This is just going to make everyone stare at me worse, Bird.”

“Ah, but they will stare at the mustache, not you.”

…Bird had a point, so Elia tried it. Sure enough, anyone who got close enough stared at the feather mustache instead of Elia’s face. Mrsha nearly laughed herself out of the little cart that Lyonette was pulling, and Nanette crashed her bicycle because she was wobbling on the road too hard.

That was it. Lyonette was sweating like a pig when they stopped after an hour so she could drink water. She gasped.

“This…felt easier during practice! Mrsha, dear, do you want to try pedaling? Nanette, how are you doing?”

“I’m okay!”

Nanette had a few bandages over scrapes, but she seemed determined to ride the bike. As for Mrsha, she lifted a laconic paw.

Sadly, Mother, I am quite short still. And my fur gets caught in the gears. Kevin said he’d work on a better version for me, but I cannot ride. My current form of locomotion is quite pleasant. Also, I’m frail with my thinness. Avē motus.

“…Is that your new way of talking?”

I think it’s pretty funny, yes. It makes all the [Mages]’ faces wrinkle up when they try to decipher what I say, and they try to get cleverer about it.

Mrsha smiled, and because it was genuine, Lyonette got back on the bicycle and decided she could keep cycling. Especially when she glanced over her shoulder and saw Mrsha putting her legs up, waving at people flashing by. She even had a book to read when she got bored of staring.

Her daughter in the sun. For a dream she’d thought she lost—Lyonette could pedal all day.

Okay, she managed two more hours before she had to flop onto her back in some grass, but then she sat up and stared across northeastern Izril.

“It’s so…rural. Colfa was right, this is prime grazing land.”

The Vampiress had declined to go on the day-trip, since she had work and, in her words, she knew the place far too well. But Lyonette’s eyes drank in the rolling hills, like waves of grass that rose as they approached the coast, and a cloud of butterflies blowing past in the wind.

“It’s so pretty.”

Liska breathed, and Nanette grinned. She was, in fact, the only person in their company who knew this area well.

“It is! But don’t go rolling in the grass, Liska! You’ll get all the nectar on you!”

She cautioned the Gnoll, and the brown-furred Gnoll glanced down at the clear nectar and sniffed.

“It doesn’t even smell bad, and it doesn’t feel bad. Why n—aaaaah!”

The cloud of big monarch butterflies swerved and went for her. They landed on Liska, who went running; butterflies freaked her out of all the insects she’d met, since they weren’t common to Liscor. Lyonette laughed as Ishkr went chasing after his sister.

They had to empty water flasks over Liska before the butterflies stopped trying to suck the nectar off her. Then a very wet Gnoll sat on the wagon…until Nanette handed something to her.

“Try this, Liska. But don’t make it any hotter or you might burn yourself.”

She gave Liska eight glowing orange stones—her Elemental Stones! Liska lay down on the wagon as Bird and Elia placed them on her back. Within ten minutes, she was dry and beaming again.

“Hey, these are great! Can I have one, Nanette?”

“No.”

“Aw, come on! I know you got them from…Seve.”

Then Liska’s face fell, and Lyonette glanced over her shoulder. A cloud passed over the group, and Mrsha glanced up as Nanette’s smile faded. But then she took the stone back from Liska and exhaled.

“Yeah. The Hundredfriends Courier!”

She raised her voice, and some people on the road gazed at them. Nanette called out, and Lyonette glanced back. The [Witch] proudly raised her arms, and her over-sized shirt gleamed in the sun.

“Until you forget their names, they’re still remembered.”

That was true. Mrsha wrote magical words that hung in the air as a passing City Runner jogged by and read it.

I miss Tritel, the Moonlight Courier. I wish he could have met Taletevirion.

“He might have tried to ride him. But I’m glad I met Valceif.”

That was all Lyonette said. Bird stood up.

“And I have a Kevin again! Another one, since there were several Antinium Kevins. The world needs more Kevins!”

She beamed as she stood in the wagon, and the City Runner pointed and screamed.

“Antinium!”

The man twisted and ran, and Bird shouted back as she raised her bow overhead and traffic swerved away from her.

“My name is Bird! I am not threatening! Stop running! You’re still in range of my bow if I was killy! Raaaaah, this is a racism!”

So saying, she drew an arrow to her bow, and Lyonette whirled.

“Bird, don’t—”

The Antinium fired a [Lesser Dragonbreath Arrow] straight up. Elia whirled and aimed her bow up.

“Wild magical arrow! Bird!”

She fired, and her arrow hit Bird’s at its zenith. The explosion of lightning in the clear spring air made everyone stare. At Bird, who fanned her wings and hugged Elia.

“I did that because I knew you’d hit it. Hello, world! I am Bird the Huntress! And this is Mustache-Elf, my friend who looks like no one else!”

She stood on the edge of the wagon, fanning her wings to keep her balance and waving her arms. A green bug-person, and a half-Elf with a mustache waving weakly. Then Liska got up.

“And I’m Liska!”

…No one knew who that was. Ser Dalimont galloped back to ask Bird to get down and stop screaming her location to the skies. They were being observed…but the open road wasn’t a good moment. If there were enemies of the inn, they’d want more warning and preparation.

Besides—that Wall Lord had sent people of his own.

 

——

 

“Lyonette!”

The first thing Wall Lord Ilvriss did when he rode towards the door being set up on the side of the road was shout the [Princess]’ name. He dismounted and strode towards the [Princess], who ran over and hugged him.

“Wall Lord! It’s good to see you! I’m sorry it’s been so long—but here we are!”

She gestured, beaming, to a door propped up in the middle of the road. A Gnoll was standing in front of it, holding her fingers up to frame it.

“Nah, I don’t like the position. Tilt it a bit more right. No, my right, Ishkr.”

Her brother growled at her.

“That is your right!”

“Oh. Well, your right.”

“It’s level and straight! What more do you want?”

“Hey, you’re not the one who has to stare out of it all the time. I want the best view. Move the waystone a tad bit to my left…can you smooth the dirt a bit where you plant it? Actually, we need to anchor it or else someone accidentally kicks it and it gets all wobbly.”

Ilvriss peered at the magical door, and then a little ball of fur hit his legs. Mrsha! He laughed.

“It’s Mrsha! And Miss Nanette! How are—huh?”

He picked up Mrsha and blinked. She was far lighter than he thought she should be. But the girl just beamed at him.

Hello, Ilvriss! It’s good to see you! You’re looking pretty dirty! And I hear you’re herding cattle!

“Mrsha, that’s not polite to say to Ilvriss!”

Lyonette scolded her weakly, but Ilvriss was dirty. He had both travel dust on him and dirt on his normally splendid attire. Ruefully, the purple-scaled Drake put Mrsha down.

“I apologize for that. When Nerul said you were coming today, I just mounted up and left the excavation site. I’m digging myself to raise morale. As for herding cattle, I would rather have not, but it’s far more economical than Chests of Holding—and the animals can graze. Except when someone steals them!”

His long-suffering sigh was annoying to his own earholes, but Lyonette gave him a sympathetic look as Nanette came over to shake his claw.

“Is it that bad, Ilvriss?”

“Oh, no. Just a longer project than most. I forget how hard it is to open a new vein in Salazsar. This isn’t worse than that.”

He lied. Ilvriss didn’t want to get into it in public—he was mostly scrutinizing them to see if the effects of this Goblin King attack were visible. Lyonette had told him…everyone was alive.

But she looks ten years older, and Mrsha’s too light. Isn’t she? As for Nanette—Ilvriss focused on the witch and hesitated.

“Ancestors, Miss Nanette. Did the Goblin King slay your sense of fashion?”

The words exploded out of his mouth, and the young woman’s eyes widened in outrage.

“I beg your p—”

Everyone around her burst into laughter. Ilvriss blushed, but her attire was just—why did he put his foot in his mouth within moments of meeting someone from The Wandering Inn?

It was a curse. He blamed Erin. First the toilet incident with her, now…Nanette was puffing up with outrage, but someone else accompanying Ilvriss whistled.

“Hey, Miss Xesci, you see that? Never thought I’d see a walking watermelon.”

One of the Sisters of Chell acting as Ilvriss’ bodyguard—along with his actual Rubirel Guard, who were silent and professional—nudged a female Drake and pointed at Nanette. The Drake woman instantly slapped her arm.

“Be nice. That’s a witch. They hex.”

Nanette whirled as the [Courtesan of Change] approached with a small group of Drakes, Gnolls, the Rubirel Guard, and Sisters of Chell. Ilvriss gestured at them all.

“Captain Shieldscale is supervising the excavation. I brought this group and Chests of Holding. May I take it that this door is connecting us back to Liscor?”

He tried not to sound desperate, but when Lyonette assured him it was, he had to refrain from crowing. Finally, freedom from the tyranny of those damn cattle-nobles! They seemed to control everything around here. It was aggravating, and Ilvriss knew that was ironic, coming from a Wall Lord, but he hadn’t caused any fuss! Well, not much.

“It seems you’ve had some difficulties, Wall Lord?”

Lyonette certainly picked up on his harried state, and Ilvriss exhaled.

“Well, between some personnel issues and the challenges of actually pinpointing our dig…it’s a problem. We keep passing over what looks like innocuous flat land, and we had [Geomancers] send down magical pulses to locate buildings.”

“Oh, very promising!”

“Yes…but no. It turns out we were finding pieces of, well, the city—but all the wrong pieces. I realized that after we got residential blocks. You see, if a Level 30 [Geomancer] can detect it…”

“It’s the wrong building! Anything still magical would be shielded.”

Nanette chimed in excitedly and stole Ilvriss’ thunder. He stared at her until she shuffled her feet.

“Well, it’s simply obvious, Wall Lord.”

“I…thank you, Miss Nanette. And it seems the inn is well enough to travel this far, Lyonette? No troubles on the road?”

“Well, it was a welcome break from the rains of Liscor, Ilvriss. There’s a bit of trouble with the inn—but we have undead working on the new one.”

“Undead. I’m almost desperate enough to hire them, if they were on offer.”

It was a mark of how worn down he was from all this damn digging. Too many Humans coming by to try and get overpaid for no work, thinking Salazsar was all richness and no brains. Nanette raised her brows.

“Surely you could get a good [Geomancer] to haul all the earth up, Wall Lord? Wouldn’t that beat even a dozen higher-level [Diggers]?”

He twitched and snapped back.

“As you observed, magic fails at a certain point when digging towards the city, Miss Nanette! Also, that much earth is too taxing, even for a high-level [Mage]! Third, when I want advice from a walking strawberry, I will ask.”

He regretted his outburst the moment it came out his mouth, but her fashion sense was genuinely upsetting him. Nanette’s offended glower said it all, but Lyonette snrked. She tried to look innocent as her daughter gave her a betrayed glance, but the [Princess] just gestured.

“We have food from Riverfarm if you have Chests of Holding. But may I treat you to a drink and meal in the inn? We have a jambalaya—Liska, is the door ready?”

“Ready! Though it’s just going to stand here. It might need, like, a checkpoint or guards on this end. Or a sign, at least.”

Ilvriss was ready for that. He gave one of his people a nod.

“We’ll take over this door. See to it, Sergeant. I don’t know if Miss Lyonette wants full traffic, but I want a little outpost here.”

“Yes, Wall Lord.”

Then, the Drake gratefully followed Lyonette back into the inn. Or rather, he began to as Liska threw herself down into her couch.

“Man, I’m beat! Alright, I can take over, Xinthe, thanks. Who wants to go to some random place in the northeast?”

She grabbed a bag of snacks as Ilvriss stared at her, then saw the dial click on the door as Liska stared at it. But he was so excited to be back at the inn he didn’t ask about her. He just strode through the door, into the hallway—and gaped at the giant barrier spell and exposed common room.

Lyonette turned to him when she saw the Wall Lord staring open-mouthed at the devastation. She smiled weakly.

“Oh, that. The Goblin King did cause a bit of a mess.”

“So he was actually here?”

Ilvriss just regarded her. The [Princess] waved it off airily.

“Yes, but as I said, no one died…”

Mrsha strolled past her, nodding, and Nanette halted as she saw Kevin running with a bicycle towards the doors. She stepped aside, and Ilvriss’ head slowly swiveled. The Skill that let Kevin hide his identity didn’t work on the Wall Lord.

No.

He turned back to the [Princess]. Lyonette squeezed her eyes shut as Kevin ran into the portal room.

“Liska, send me to Esthelm! I need to help Captain Z—”

Ilvriss’ eyes found the broken wall. Then his head moved to Ser Dalimont, who stood, face unreadable. To Ushar—he gazed after Mrsha, and Xesci cast around and gave him one of the bleakest expressions he’d ever seen in his life.

She’d sensed something too.

“Lyonette. No one died?”

The Wall Lord walked forwards, and he entered The Wandering Inn and nearly ran into a young Gnoll woman with brown fur.

“Excuse me. I—Ilvriss?”

She froze up, then backed away when he apologized to her. Then ran like she’d seen a ghost. The sense of incongruity grew worse. Ilvriss searched around the inn, and no one was missing that he could see. Calescent grinned when he saw Ilvriss and waved out the kitchen window.

It was the same—but Ilvriss stared at the new Bird and then felt his bones shivering, as they always did, when The Wandering Inn surprised him.

“So a Goblin King truly walked through this place.”

He was speaking to Lyonette. She murmured.

“Oh, yes.”

“And no one died.”

“Yes.”

There was no truth stone that would work on her. So Ilvriss used his eyes. She lifted her chin and met his gaze without blinking or staring too long, even seeming amused by the question in his eyes—a perfect liar, trained by Calanfer. But the Wall Lord knew her.

“A Solstice event?”

“…Yes. Without her.”

Mrsha was watching him from her table, and her regard disconcerted the Wall Lord. Ilvriss cleared his throat as he gazed at the floorboards and saw a deep divot in them. As if something huge had rested a claw there.

“Then something quite grand or perhaps wonderful may have happened. Or tragic. And no one died?”

His head rose, and he met Lyonette’s again. Her gaze didn’t waver. She took in a breath, too quickly, and tried to speak.

“No…no one…”

She coughed, smiled, and spoke naturally.

“No one, Ilvriss. Of course not.”

The [Princess] thought she’d sold the lie until she realized he was a purple blob in her vision. And the hot tears were rolling down her cheeks. She hiccuped and felt for a handkerchief.

“Oh dear. Ushar. I—”

“Here.”

The [Princess] took the proffered silk handkerchief, wiped her eyes, blew her nose into it, and realized it was Ilvriss standing in front of her. He seemed ashamed.

“I’m sorry. I simply…wished to know the truth.”

He bowed his head. The [Princess] half-shook hers. She almost offered him back his handkerchief, but then realized how messy it was.

“The truth is so hard, Ilvriss.”

“I should have been there. That’s my fault. It feels like I shouldn’t stray beyond the reach of the [Door of Portals].”

He murmured as he gazed about. Lyonette almost laughed.

“You couldn’t have done anything, Ilvriss. It was just—a miraculous, terrible thing, as always.”

He nodded, accepting this at face value. How much should she tell him? Could she burden him with it? But if the inn had friends…he was one of the best. He and Zel. Dead gods. She missed Zel. She wished he’d come with them. Lyonette blinked more tears out of her eyes. The Wall Lord spoke gravely.

“That may be true, hard as it is to admit. Wall Lords, Archmages, and adventurers might not have been enough. Not in front of a Solstice event or a Goblin King. But sometimes, I think, you should be there or stand up to be counted. For your own sake, if no one else’s.”

When he said that, Xesci and the Drakes and Gnolls who’d followed him gazed at the Wall Lord in astonishment or…something else that Lyonette hoped was real.

One of the Sisters of Chell nudged the other and mouthed silently something like, ‘can you believe this guy’? They snorted until a [Knight] with a bowler hat half-rose from a table where he was eating with some very nervous men with hats and peered at them. Then they went dead still.

But Ilvriss and Lyonette were only paying attention to each other. The [Princess] gazed up at the Wall Lord, then threw her arms around him again.

“Eternal Throne, Ilvriss. I’ve missed you.”

He patted her on the shoulder, awkward.

“I’ve missed this inn too. Ah, just one more question. I swear this one isn’t emotionally striven. I hope.”

“Yes? Go on.”

She blinked wetly at him, and he pointed a finger.

“…That is Elia Arcsinger, isn’t it?”

Everyone stared at Elia, and she removed the crow-feather mustache and, amazingly, didn’t become red, just wore her most professional face ever. Lyonette simply began laughing, which answered his question.

 

——

 

Then the Wall Lord was back at The Wandering Inn. Just for a little bit. He arrived actually at a late lunchtime, which meant he had plenty of time to avail himself of the inn’s services.

Which was a hot bath, then food. In fact, the inn’s copper bathtub got a workout, and after the staff got tired of hauling hot water up to fill it, Inkpaper came up with a rather clever solution. While the Antinium worked, he vanished downstairs. Peggy eventually went looking around to kick his ass, but the Goblin came out with his invention.

A pipe. Peggy was hitting him with it when she noted the fluted end he’d stuck on with some Shield Spider glue and some new guttering that Hexel wanted to add onto the new inn. The end result was a raincatcher…that Inkpaper stuck out a window and attached to an open barrel. Easy water collection thanks to the rains.

Little things like that. The entire crew the Wall Lord had brought needed a bath; even the Rubirel Guard traded off to use the tub. It transpired that creature comforts were in rare supply at the dig site.

“The northeast isn’t as thoroughly developed as other areas of Izril, as you saw. Lots of country. And given that we’re such a large group, it’s been hard finding accommodations. It’s essentially a rough outpost over our dig site. We haven’t clashed with the locals…but they’re pressuring us in other senses.”

“I wouldn’t imagine anyone could pressure a Wall Lord economically.”

He shrugged as he ate the jambalaya with relish.

“All the gold can’t buy a thing if no one will sell. These rancher-nobles, as they’re called, are as proud as the Five Families. Thoroughly anti-Drake.”

“Well, they would be. Every family loses sons and daughters at the Bloodfield battles.”

That came from Colfa, and Ilvriss blinked, then introduced himself to her.

“Lady Colfa, isn’t it? I do apologize if I’m speaking out of turn. They’ve just been…frustrating.”

To Lyonette’s relief, Colfa chuckled at the title he accorded her and simply nodded.

“They are frustrating and obstinate. And dangerous in their own ways. You’ve done well not to react with force. That would make this far worse.”

He nodded as Ishkr appeared behind the bar and trotted over with a basket. It contained shampoo, toilet paper—and he had an entire bag of holding filled with more. Ilvriss sighed.

“Oh, dead gods. Finding an [Alchemist] in this mess…is Miss Octavia here?”

No one had seen Octavia in a minute, and when they checked on her, she wasn’t in Stitchworks. Ishkr vanished and came back as Ilvriss was finishing lunch. A panting, eyes-bloodshot Octavia ran in with Reagen on her head.

“Wall Lord Ilvriss? You wanted my business? Sorry I’ve been out—I was prepping potions for Master Saliss, and then—I’m going to have to run his entire laboratory while he’s on expedition!”

Ilvriss blinked at her.

“You’re moving up in the world, Miss Cotton. Congratulations.”

“I am? I am!”

She stared at him before realizing that being allowed to work in Saliss of Lights’ private workshop in Pallass was an upgrade. Though, clearly, it felt like work. She flopped into a chair, then saw a Drake emerging from the bathroom with a towel.

“Is that—the tub? Is there still water in it? I could use a wash. I think. My nose sucks, but…”

She had visible layers of alchemical residue on her, and Mrsha had already covered her nose. Ishkr, normally wise in such ways, gave her a good whiff and gagged.

They almost tossed Octavia into the bathtub, and Ilvriss shook his head. Then he realized Lyonette had new staff, and he had to ask about that—and Valeterisa. By that time, Nerul had appeared, and Lyonette realized she had a small party going on.

“Ishkr, can you find wherever Joseph and Kevin have got to? Bring them here, discreetly, would you? Rose and Imani too, if she’d like to come. Who else? Relc’s on duty, but afterwards…oh, Selys is gone.”

“Krshia? Elirr?”

Lyonette chewed on her lip. But then she shook her head.

“Don’t advertise. Just a quiet gathering. But do bring Rose.”

That confused Ishkr, but Lyonette hadn’t forgotten her drunk [Pavilion of Secrets] encounter. She’d almost written it off as a dream, but it hadn’t been. And she thought the Earthers in general would enjoy this.

Certainly, the normally-active Ilvriss looked like he wanted nothing more than to sit and relax in the common room. He almost got up.

“I really should visit the Council and ask how Liscor is…but I’d be dropping in unannounced. Perhaps…later. Though we have to be back at the excavation site—”

He groaned as he sat back, and he did seem tired. Lyonette hesitated.

“What if you stayed a night, Wall Lord?”

“I can’t make Captain Shieldscale take over that long. But it would be nice.”

Lyonette’s wore a cunning smile as she gestured at the stairs.

“Ah, but Erin’s inn has [Twofold Rest], Wall Lord. Even from a practical level, it would make more sense to stay the night.”

That was a compelling point. Ilvriss hesitated. His aides and followers all gave Ilvriss a silent gaze of entreaty, and he decided to put the decision off till later. Lyonette glanced at Peggy and got a thumbs up—they had rooms, and the staff got them ready.

So what did they do after that? Well, Lyonette sat back down as Ilvriss talked to Mrsha.

“What else have I missed at the moment? Aside from matters that belong in the garden?”

She gave him a bland expression that contained a tiny bit of mischief.

I’ve been doing some digging in the garden too, Wall Lord. You might be very surprised by what you dig up.

Nanette spat out her entire cup of milk, which Nerul dodged. That dark humor made Lyonette gasp, but, undeterred, Mrsha handed Ilvriss another card.

More seriously, we are worried about Tessa. She went to Tenbault and never returned, if you recall.

“Tessa. Ancestors. How is she?”

To Lyonette’s relief, the moment Ilvriss thought of the Named-rank adventurer, he focused on the problem as if he’d always been here. He faced her.

“You have a plan, I trust. Have you made contact? I think I sent a letter…two months ago. I wasn’t surprised at not receiving a reply, though.”

“I sent a trusted expert, Vaulont, to make contact with her. She sent him back with over two dozen stab wounds.”

Ilvriss began drumming his claws on the table as Nanette punched Mrsha’s shoulder, and the girl patted her on the arm. He glanced around.

“That’s…not good. I was warned by Tessa’s ‘handlers’ to essentially drug her into oblivion if she went over the edge. The tonics were so strong I had to change them out monthly or they’d lose potency.”

“Oh, that’s fresh stuff. Pull my strings, it could probably take down a Grand Elephant if it beats something you can preserve.”

Octavia frowned, and Ilvriss nodded.

“That…doesn’t sound like a solution, though.”

He regarded Lyonette, and she agreed.

“No, it does not. I think if I could talk to her…! But this Healer sounds like a wretched woman. I’m inclined to just go there in force, even if there’s another Named-rank adventurer, Crowdcaller Merdon. My worry is that the Healer might do something rash.”

In which case, Tessa might get stabby. Lyonette had little fear for herself, but the danger was there. She was more worried about Dalimont or Ushar. Ilvriss eyed Lyonette.

“Surely a [Princess] wouldn’t incite the Healer to any mistakes. How rash is this Merdon? Named-ranks are unpredictable. I’ve worked with enough to recognize the ones with magicore temperaments—quick to change.”

He turned to Nerul, but the [Diplomat] just sipped from some wine.

“Sorry, Nephew, but I don’t know northern adventurers well. The last generation, yes, but I think Merdon’s a former member of Orchestra? He wasn’t independent when I was paying attention. They’re one of the real northern teams. Haughty, with culture of their own. He’s second-rate as Named-ranks go, though, to have a guard job this long.”

Lyonette got up and decided to pass around a few snacks. Normally, she wouldn’t, but some silkap and crackers with refreshments wouldn’t hurt. Ilvriss stuck a huge cracker into the silkap and seemed highly embarrassed when she covered a smile. Another thing he was missing.

“Does anyone know what Merdon is like? Captain Todi!”

Todi jumped and closed the window. He’d just fired a crossbow through it. She gazed at him, and he shrugged.

“Ghoul. Might have been loyal. Kneecapped the bugger, but Bird just had to shoot it through the head. Showoff. Who, Merdon? He’s a hot-tempered bastard. I’ve gone drinking with him—when he’s flush with coin, he’ll buy the entire tavern drinks. He spends gold like he’s got a hole in his bag of holding. No head for that—or his temper. I’ve seen him go at Gold-rankers three times. Lose twice. Then he uses his voice.”

“Wonderful. That’s the scenario I envision. Any attempted threat and he might decide to throw his weight around. And given Tessa’s temperament, her reaction is the most dangerous.”

Ilvriss opened his legs and leaned on his knees, clasping his clawed hands together. He was thinking hard, and Lyonette beckoned Todi over.

“Would he back down in the face of a threat, Todi? Elia and the Thronebearers might impress him.”

“Sure…but he can’t appear too bad, Lyonette. I reckon you don’t have enough to scare him. Though Bird might. He don’t like Antinium. Merdon’s a bully. He might have the class. Speaking as a former [Bully] myself, once you show him you’re too tough to shout down, he’ll back off. ‘Scuse me, by the way, are you Wall Lord Ilvriss? Captain Todi, Gold-rank adventurer.”

Ilvriss shook hands with Captain Todi, clearly not knowing who the heck Todi was. Lyonette was thinking.

“Bird might do, but she’s worse than Tessa. She’ll declare war on Tenbault and get us all killed.”

“Hey!”

Bird had come downstairs for some victory chicken wings in barbeque sauce. She thought about it.

“Okay, maybe.”

“Merdon’s not the biggest threat, Lyonette. Tessa being attached to the Healer is. She needs a cure, and without the Faerie Flowers…”

Nanette pointed out, and Ilvriss’ jaw dropped in horror.

“They’re gone?”

“We have the Minotaur’s Punch, but yes. No more free wonder. Even so, Nanette, I don’t think Tessa is the problem. She’s…miserable.”

Lyonette had only gotten a glimpse of her, but when the witch girl raised her brows, the [Princess] elaborated.

“I should never have let her run off. I know she just vanished—but I’ve met Tessa. She needs more than just relief from her cravings. She needs someone who respects her. Who knows her name. Without that, she’ll sink.”

The young woman bowed her red hair.

“I think I’ve let her sink, and the Healer is no great [Healer]. I think she’s miserable, Nanette. I need to go there to extend my hand. It’s the Healer of Tenbault or Merdon who might get in the way. How do I deal with them?”

Ilvriss scratched at his chin.

“Xesci, you’re the people person. Thoughts?”

The [Courtesan] inspected Lyonette as everyone turned to her. Ushar and the Calanferians seemed mildly horrified by having a lady of the night anywhere near Lyonette and the girls, but Xesci just murmured.

“I was only with Shriekblade for a while.”

“Tessa.”

Ilvriss and Lyonette said it at the same time. Ilvriss glanced at the [Princess], then addressed Xesci.

“Her name is Tessa.”

“Is it?”

The [Courtesan]’s face seemed scarred, suddenly, like a shadow of Tessa’s own countenance. She spoke with a blank weariness.

“Or has she been Shriekblade so long she’s forgotten who Tessa was? I think you’re right she likes to drown in misery, but she’s not blind. She knows the Healer will never save her, deep down. But she expects nothing more. If you want to convince her, Princess…don’t send a thief in the night. Show her something to hope for.”

She turned, and Lyonette breathed out.

“Well then, Merdon. Does he have a…a way to get him to back off, guaranteed? Or will we just have to do a show of force?”

Perhaps she could ask Lord Raithland for a favor? Arrema raised a paw, still avoiding Ilvriss, but Merdon wouldn’t know her. It was Asgra who tapped Lyonette on the back.

“You should send Goblins.”

When everyone gave her a blank stare, the Cave Goblin grinned.

“Goblins beat him like drum. Remember when Chieftain Rags stole Healer? You send Redscar, and he poo his pants.”

Now there was an idea. If only Numbtongue were around…Ilvriss murmured.

“That just leaves the Healer.”

“I think I know who could handle her.”

Lyonette had the beginnings of a plan. She was mostly winging it, but it sounded relatively safe, and she leaned over to describe how it would work. Everyone was following along when Ishkr raced into the inn.

“Lyonette, switch the scrying orb on!”

“What? What is it?”

She whirled, and he ran to the mirror. That’s when everyone saw Joseph, Drassi—and Captain Zevara. Lyonette’s jaw dropped as she saw the Watch Captain running through Pallass of all places!

“What’s going on? Zevara? Is she in trouble?”

She shot from her seat, and so did Mrsha—until she saw the Thronebearers move—and the girl deliberately sat back down. Nanette was already running towards the [Door of Portals] with Lyonette.

As for Ilvriss? He assessed the situation on the scrying orb, then he spoke to Asgra.

“You know, I will take a milkshake. One for Miss Mrsha too.”

She gave him the betrayed eyes of someone in the service industry forced to do their job at the worst moment, and Ilvriss made a rapid calculation.

“One for you too. Put it on my tab.”

She brightened up and ran to get his order. The Wall Lord exhaled as he stretched out in his chair. The milkshake was, of course, all sugar and sweets, but he was low on sugar at the moment, and he slurped half down and then just started watching. When he saw the Watch Captain go cycling down Pallass’ grand staircase on a bicycle, the Wall Lord just started chuckling to himself.

“It’s good to be back.”

He chinked glasses with Mrsha, who grinned and nodded.

 

——

 

Wall Lord Ilvriss was back, and Zevara was up to shenanigans catching crooks in Pallass. For a moment, it felt like the good old days, only different.

Mrsha had never seen Zevara doing something crazy and stupid and good like that, and it made her heart lift. Especially because she felt like the Watch Captain deserved a win. She deserved…everything.

That wasn’t the only reason the girl was happy. She stepped back after Ilvriss had settled himself down at a table and just watched him looking around and smiling. And her heart felt happy and sad. It hurt in all the best ways.

What really made Mrsha feel good about the entire Zevara thing was that she hadn’t seen it coming. As in…Roots Mrsha hadn’t ever found a door in the [Palace of Fates] where Watch Captain Zevara rode a bicycle down Pallass and Joseph kicked a soccer ball at a fleeing duo of Fissival secret agents, one of whom was named Moass.

Given the infinite possibilities within the [Palace of Fates], you’d think she might have seen something like that, but Moass, really?

The girl was giggling about it to herself as she combed her hair with a brush; she’d gotten a bit dirty on the day trip. She swore, for a second, she could hear a second silent giggle. But of course, there wasn’t another Mrsha to laugh with. It was just her.

Both of her. One of her. Both Mrshas thought it was funny, though. She was already forgetting, a bit, that there had been two of herself. But if she really concentrated, she could diverge the memories as being ‘Original Mrsha’ and ‘Roots Mrsha’. She didn’t need to—knowing that fate was moving in a direction she couldn’t predict felt right.

Well, obviously, she had [Basic Prediction (Daily)], but that wasn’t the same thing. Her basic prediction today had told her that the Picante Sandwich was the tastiest thing on the menu. Which…very respectable, and accurate. But the big things were already diverging from what Roots Mrsha had seen.

Of course, that means I’ll be less useful. And maybe I can’t help. But I’ve caused a bunch of messes. It’s probably better to let everyone else make their own and just help. Be a good girl. Whatever that means.

That was Mrsha’s philosophy towards life, right now. She was doing her best; so was Nanette, though her crimes against fashion were still probably punishable by death in some parts of the world.

So, that was why, after a quick self-grooming, Mrsha went to find Ser Dalimont. She tugged on his arm and handed him a note. He blinked down at it.

“School, Miss Mrsha? Really? But we’ve missed the morning, and there’s barely more than lunch and the afternoon lessons if we were to hurry.”

I insist, Ser Dalimont. Going to school is important, and I shouldn’t escape it all the time, should I?

The response was one that Dalimont couldn’t argue with, so he nodded. Mrsha didn’t tell Lyonette as he informed Ushar; she had the idea that her mother had been trying to get her out of school.

Because of the bully thing. Mrsha shook her head. Her mother didn’t have all the facts. If she did, well…she probably wouldn’t change her mind. She’d just feel worse about it. The Gnoll girl walked towards the door to Liscor, and Ser Dalimont held open a parasol as they walked into Shivertail plaza. The rain patterned down on the umbrella, and Mrsha gazed up at the rainy skies.

Beautiful and vast. So much better than those magnificent, endless hallways where she thought she’d die. Yes, everything was better now.

 

——

 

Mrsha still thought that, even after the third Yellat bounced off the back of her head. She had arrived at the schoolhouse just in time for lunch, which was fairly ironic since she’d just had some. Ekirra, Visma, and Kenva, her friends, were all eating at a table in the newly-built facility.

Ser Dalimont was somewhere around the school; he wasn’t allowed inside according to Druid Shassa, but Mrsha bet he sometimes came in and had tons of ward spells to monitor the inside. However, inside the school proper, only [Teachers] and the students were allowed.

They had five rooms in the entire school at the moment, but the Council was already talking about adding more and multiple schools to enroll students in. Lots of artisans were objecting that their apprenticeships would be harmed, but the parents of the students had noticed their children levelling.

Not just in the [Student] class; Shassa was teaching practical lessons, so anyone who picked up an [Archer] class from their lessons, or a [Cook] class, was benefitting a lot at the children’s ages.

That was the political stuff, of course, like the elections in the background. Mrsha didn’t have a firm grasp on what was going on, she’d readily admit. But she wrote out this kind of stuff, and her friends seemed to think she knew it all.

“Really? Everyone wants apprenticeships? But they suuuck. I like school. No one hits you or shouts when you mess up. My big sister used to get things thrown at her by her master.”

Ekirra read slowest of the four friends, but even he was top of the class at reading. Kenva bounced up and down in her seat.

“My father says that schools are a mark of an industri-ous city. He thinks apprenticeships are old fashioned ‘cause no one knows if they want that exact class, then they’re stuck.’”

Well, he would say that. He’s Pallassian. So are you, Ekirra, technically. You should be more patriotic.

The Gnoll boy scoffed; his family had been given an apartment by Pallass in an attempt to lure him to the City of Inventions. Which had worked for all of a week until Liscor had countered with an apartment for the Little Crab’s star striker.

“I’m not patrioting nothing! I’m going to be a famous football star!”

“We know.”

Visma, Kenva, and Mrsha all chorused—well, she wrote it in the air. Visma was kicking her feet at the table, playing with a doll.

“I think school is boring. I want to play all day. Mrsha, if the new Council wins, do you think they’ll get rid of school?”

The Doombearer thought about it as everyone turned to her. She was the ‘smart’ member of their group. Also, the one with connections. They listened to her opinion, or Kenva’s, about Pallass. The shy Drake had been too nervous to talk at first, but she knew a lot about the big city that the Liscorians were interested in.

If they had roles, then Ekirra was the goof and athletic one, and Visma was the Drake who knew everyone thanks to her dolls and playdates. Also the scary one; no one messed with Visma. She’d sneak into your room and cut all your dolls’ heads off if you bullied her friends.

The last member of the group who wasn’t present at school was Rittane; the young [Necromancer] girl didn’t go to Liscor’s schools since her parents thought, probably accurately, that she’d be bullied for her class, and they were teaching her magic. But she hung out after school. Everyone knew she was the cool one, but Rittane was good about not acting snobby, despite having undead dolls and being able to raise a skeleton.

Mrsha’s reply was a bit lengthy, so Kenva read it out to everyone else.

“Mrsha says: you don’t want the new Council to win, Visma. They’re actually the old Council in disguise. Wait, really? And if they get rid of school, you’ll have to get an apprenticeship. Oh no!”

“I don’t want that! I guess I want the old Council to win. Who’s the new Council?”

Mrsha sighed as Visma changed her mind at once.

Just get your parents to vote for Krshia, okay?

She was munching on some food. She’d had a very filling Picante Sandwich from Calescent’s menu, very delightful with that avocado stuff that Imani had found. But she always had room for more food. In fact, Ekirra had offered her some of his fried fish, but Mrsha hadn’t needed it.

She had a bunch of nuts in her bag of holding, and she was chewing them down with a bottle of water—again, stowed in her bag. Nuts were great. They filled you up, made good snacks, and if you were ever trapped in a place without food, you could plant them and they’d grow with a bit of [Druid] magic.

Not that she was thinking about that. Just—who didn’t need snacks at any time? Mrsha chomped down on some dried berries as well and was about to ask what the mood on the streets was when the fourth Yellat hit her.

That one actually hurt, probably because the fork was still attached. Mrsha jerked, then rubbed at the back of her head. Visma twisted around with a look of outrage.

“Mrsha! Teacher! Rinni threw something at Mrsha again!”

She shouted at the [Teacher] who was supposed to be watching over the kids. And the young Gnoll, the [Teaching Assistant] named Uller, was looking. But she didn’t have eyes in the back of her head.

“Is that true, Miss Rinni? You know what the rules about bullying and wasting food are!”

The Gnoll scolded one of the Drakes sitting as far from Mrsha as possible. The yellow-scaled Drake glared at Mrsha as the [Survivor of Fates] searched around. She gave Uller an innocent smile.

“I didn’t throw anything! Visma’s lying!”

Uller didn’t have a truth stone, and all of the children around Rinni chorused that she was telling the truth. So he came over to Visma, who indignantly pointed at the Yellats on the floor.

“Miss Mrsha, is what Visma’s saying true?”

The Gnoll squatted down with a friendly, if concerned, smile. He was seventeen and learning to be a [Teacher], and several girls had a crush on him, like Kenva. However, his good temper and way with kids faltered a bit when he gazed at Mrsha.

Mrsha, the white Doombearer, whose mother was probably a [Princess], who had a [Knight] bodyguard, and who went to the inn. Mrsha knew he was concerned she’d do something and he’d get in trouble. So she wrote placidly on a piece of paper; writing in the air unnerved him.

It was probably an accident, Teacher Uller.

“I see. In that case, Rinni, why don’t you apologize to Mrsha?”

“Sorry~”

The Drake called out without glancing at Mrsha, and that was that. Visma glared daggers as she sat back down and whispered to their group. Uller was keeping an eye on them, so more Yellats didn’t come flying their way.

“Mrsha! She was doing that on purpose and you know it!”

Yes, but what’s Uller going to do? Put her in time-out? That’ll just make her madder.

“She already hates you, Mrsha. You should report her! Bad people shouldn’t be allowed to keep doing that.”

Kenva pointed out. Ekirra’s eyes were almost crossing with the stress of this new problem in their school lives. He whined.

“Rinni isn’t nice to Mrsha. But she’s nice to me.”

“That’s because you’re popular and everyone likes the Little Crabs, Ekirra. But she’s mean to Mrsha, and you’re my boyfriend.”

“So?”

“So, you have to defend Mrsha! Go beat her up!”

The [Striker] hesitated as he tried to work out how this logic made sense. He whined louder.

“But she’s friends with Golly, and he’s bigger than me!”

“Just kick him in the testicles with your kicking Skill! Or I’ll have to push Rinni into the sewers and hope the undead rat eats her!”

“Visma! That’s wrong!”

They began arguing about Rinni, and Mrsha glanced around the lunchroom. Her little quartet of friends weren’t pariahs. Far from it; Visma and Ekirra were very popular, but they sat alone in moments like that. It was her, she knew.

She was from the inn. She was Mrsha. If Rinni and her friends hated Mrsha’s guts, well, the other students were a mix of nervous or wary of her. Mrsha didn’t know them well, only a few of the girls in other classes like Hickery or Comrei. And she suspected she scared them too.

There was a hiss from Rinni’s table as Mrsha saw the Drake giving her a death-stare. And Mrsha?

The Gnoll girl just waved until Rinni leapt up to use the bathrooms, outraged. Like her mother, Mrsha just sighed. She wasn’t bothered by the flying Yellats or even the other bullying. Because she got it. Old Mrsha would have been borrowing Calescent’s death-spice and probably have caused a huge incident with the parents.

This Mrsha just felt bad for Rinni. Because she had done what the old Mrsha would have never thought to do.

She’d asked herself a question. Why does Rinni hate me?

The answer might depress you.

 

——

 

The truth was that nothing a child could do to her would come anywhere close to the [Palace of Fates]. Mrsha believed that as they filed into their evening lesson, which was geography.

“Alright, everyone. Take a seat! Today, we’re studying Drake cities and Chandrar! Drake cities make a lot of goods that are very important for cities like Liscor or even Invrisil! Because of the Trade Roads, everyone can get what they need! Tell me, does anyone know where Prelons come from?”

“Oteslia, Miss Shassa?”

The [Druid] had a pointer and a map, and she laughed as Ekirra waved a paw.

“Yes, that’s true, Ekirra. But there’s another city that grows Prelons. Who knows the answer?”

Cellidel. Mrsha knew that because of Relc, but she didn’t raise her paw. She had a reputation as a know-it-all, because her knowledge of other nations was already far stronger than most. Instead, she cracked open a book from the school. It was a storybook about other nations, with little hand-drawn illustrations and anecdotes about their cities and cultures.

A textbook from Oteslia. Mrsha paged to the Chandrarian section and eyed a Djinni flying over the page. Merreid, the Shield Kingdom. She began to read. Druid Shassa noticed, of course, but she let Mrsha read with only a single question her way.

“Mrsha? Do you know what Marwsh is famous for? Can you point to it on a map?”

Mrsha squinted up at the map and missed Marwsh when she was called up to the board, but she did know it had big cats.

“Very good, Mrsha! Though it’s not known for that as a trade expert—how did you know about Marwsh? Did your tribe visit it?”

Mrsha shook her head and wrote.

No, the Horns of Hammerad went by there and Ceria said that they had cats.

To her credit, Druid Shassa only wavered a millisecond before clapping her claws together.

“The Horns! Oh my! Well, friends going travelling is a wonderful way to get to know other cities! Thank you, Mrsha. Does anyone else have friends who’ve gone to Marwsh or other cities?”

She was very good with the kids. But Mrsha felt a bit bad for her; she had to have trouble with someone like Mrsha. Certainly, a few of the other students had given Mrsha that awed look mixed with denial. She couldn’t help it, and she’d stopped trying to play down these things.

I know the Horns. I can’t lie about who I am. Mrsha went back to her book; she could read it or daydream quite happily in classes like this. But when she sat down, she leapt up with such an expression of alarm that Shassa blinked.

“Something wrong, Mrsha?”

The girl was silent, but she rubbed at her behind—it was Kenva who spotted the little nail sticking out Mrsha’s kilt.

“Miss Shassa, a nail!”

It hadn’t gotten far into Mrsha’s skin because of her fur, but it had still hurt quite a lot! Mrsha rubbed at her butt as Shassa grew alarmed.

“How did that get there? Who put that there?”

She swivelled, a severe expression on her face, but the culprit didn’t reveal themselves. However, Mrsha’s eyes moved to Rinni, and she saw the Drake giving her a triumphant stare.

“Miss Rinni? Do you have anything to say?”

“I didn’t do it, Miss Shassa! I swear it on a truth stone!”

The girl gave Shassa an innocent look, and she was indeed far too far away from Mrsha to have planted the nail. The [Druid] hesitated, and her eyes fixed on Mrsha.

“Mrsha, are you hurt? Did you see who did it?”

The [Druid] was using her wildspeaking telepathy to communicate with Mrsha. But Mrsha, who had established she wasn’t bleeding, just shrugged.

“Nope. Sorry.”

“I see. Well then, I think we need to have a lesson on bullying.”

The [Druid]’s voice was very severe, and she changed subjects as Mrsha saw Ekirra, Visma, and Kenva gazing at her worriedly. She waved to show she was unharmed and sat back in her chair. Even now, Rinni was glaring hatred at her, and Mrsha?

She still felt bad for Rinni.

 

——

 

Ser Dalimont found Mrsha after Shassa’s class, during recess. They had a small playground to run around in, and the [Knight] whispered to Mrsha through a window.

“Miss Mrsha, do you need a healing potion or bandage? I have observed the culprit, the Gnoll boy, Golly. As directed by Miss Rinni. I will bring the matter up discreetly with Miss Shassa.”

Mrsha stared at the [Knight]’s face through the cracked-open window. She wrote for a second, then handed him a note.

Do you ever feel like your splendid talents are being wasted performing guard-duty for a child in school, Ser Dalimont?

He blinked at the message, then smiled faintly.

“I consider this a lull between storms, and I wouldn’t assume working for Princess Seraphel would necessarily be more bracing, Miss Mrsha.”

Fair enough, she supposed. Mrsha wrote again.

I’m not a tattletale, and neither are you, Dalimont. Leave it be.

“But Miss Mrsha, that nail might have hurt you—”

Rinni hates me because she blames the inn for killing her father. She has every right to be mad. Maybe not at me. Kicking her out of school isn’t the right thing to do either. So don’t tell my mother, got it?

That was the reason. Dalimont hesitated, but he’d been the one who had ferreted that information out for her. Mrsha turned her head and saw the Drake girl staring at her.

The tragedy of Rinni was simple, straightforwards, and not Mrsha’s fault—but also Mrsha’s fault. The worst part was that her father hadn’t died to one of the artillery spells hitting Liscor. It had been after Erin had been shot by Hectval’s [Soldiers]. He’d been part of the militia-army that had gone to fight Hectval. One of the casualties.

Of course she hated The Wandering Inn. And Mrsha was her only target—the Gnoll girl got it. Ser Dalimont nodded after a second, and Mrsha walked back over to the kids, who were playing dodgeball across the playground. She was waving at Visma and Kenva, who were throwing down balls at Ekirra and a gang of his friends trying to besiege them, when someone nailed her with a ball to the back of the head at point blank range.

Ow.

“Mrsha! Golly, I’m gonna kill you!”

Ekirra ran over, and there was a fight before Uller broke it up; Mrsha picked herself up, rubbing her nose. She’d smacked it hard on the ground when Golly hit her with the ball.

“Mrsha! He hit you right after Rinni pointed! This time, you’ve got to tell!”

Kenva and Visma slid down to Mrsha and ran over. Mrsha saw Rinni glaring and flipping her off as Golly was lectured by Uller—Mrsha saw Ser Dalimont watching from the side and sighed.

The problem with caring minders like Dalimont and Lyonette was that they went too far. She’d been downplaying the problem to Lyonette because the [Princess] was likely to set Rinni’s mother on fire if she came to the school. As for Ser Dalimont…he meant well, but he was used to dealing with [Princesses]. Any affront had to be redressed in moments so it never happened again.

Mrsha herself was holding back, because, well, what was she supposed to do? Throw paws with Golly? She could do that. She could defend herself, and she was afraid because she didn’t know how far it would go.

The [Palace of Fates] aside, Mrsha had more levels on Golly and Rinni and their friends than the entire group combined. What would happen if she cast [Thorn Paw] and slashed him? Or just got into a fight with her [Lesser Toughness] Skill or something? With [Fur of the Fortress] on, did he even have a chance against her?

She wrote slowly to her anxious friends.

I don’t want to make this a big issue, guys. Rinni’s hurting, and I feel responsible in a way. I know it’s not my fault, but I get why she’s upset. I was like that once with Goblins.

She rubbed at the back of her head.

…Then again, I don’t really want to be bullied for the next few years at school. So I guess I’ve gotta do something. Any ideas?

“I could go over to her house and break all her toys and throw them in the sewer.”

Visma suggested. Kenva turned.

“What if I tell my father so he gets a [Guard] to arrest her?”

…Maybe her loose grasp on what normal childhood was like wasn’t so out-of-place among her friends after all. Mrsha eyed Ekirra, and he wiped at his nose.

“What if I punch Golly in the face and call him a Creler-eater?”

She sighed. Mrsha wished Rittane were here. She was the sensible one. It probably came from all the undead.

 

——

 

Hey Rinni, can I have a word?

After school, everyone was collecting their things when Mrsha approached the girl and her friends. Ekirra, Visma, and Kenva looked alarmed when she walked over to Rinni and her group. So did the teachers; Uller and Shassa were both here, keeping an eye on the afterschool pickups as parents and siblings came by.

“Is someone there? I can’t see anything. It’s all white! Can you?”

Rinni pretended she couldn’t see Mrsha; she’d already gotten in trouble for comments about Doombringers. She tried to step around Mrsha, and the Gnoll girl stepped left.

Rinni, I’d like to chat, please?

She was grateful that Ser Dalimont wasn’t here; she could see some of the parents, and he’d just make everything awkward. Rinni glowered as Mrsha blocked her path.

“Golly, do something!”

The Gnoll was nine years old and big for his age; he towered over Mrsha as he made a fist.

“Get out of the way, Mrsha. Or else.”

She faced him and wrote in the air.

Hey, Golly, I need to talk to Rinni. This is important. I don’t appreciate being hit, and you don’t want to keep getting in trouble, do you?

He squinted at the words, then waved a paw through them and spoke loudly.

“I don’t hear nothing! Do you? Speak properly, Mrsha! I can’t hear you!”

He put one paw to his ear, which had a nick taken out of it, and everyone laughed. Ekirra growled as he wanted to race over, but Mrsha held up a paw.

What would Erin do here? Wait, no, that was a terrible thing to think. What would Ceria do…no, Mrsha had no bugs to eat, and Ceria was just as bad. What would…hm…who was the most responsible, reasonable adult she knew?

She scratched her head, thinking, as Golly and Rinni stared at her. Mrsha snapped her fingers.

Hedault! Damn, I’ve got no clue what he’d do. Oh well, I’ll just wing it. Golly, I want to talk to Rinni, alone. Move back, please.

He squinted at the words, then snorted as Rinni nudged him.

“You’re stupid. Go away.”

He went to shove Mrsha as hard as he could. The bigger Gnoll child gave her a hefty push. Then he fell down.

Visma sniggered loudly as Golly’s feet went out from under him. Embarrassed, he got up and tried again. Mrsha didn’t move. Rinni stared at Mrsha in confusion until she gazed down.

“Golly, look!”

He stared down at two patches of grass that had sprung up and anchored Mrsha to the floor of the classroom. [Grow Grass]. The boy lost his temper.

“No fair, you cheater!”

So he swiftly slugged Mrsha in the stomach. That did cause an outcry.

“Mister Golly!”

Shassa shouted, and several parents objected too. The boy hesitated, ears flattening at the censure, but his attention was still on Mrsha. Because she hadn’t moved. She hadn’t even…flinched.

[Lesser Toughness]. It was only now Golly seemed to realize that not all the looks at him were outrage, but apprehension. And Visma making punching motions and shouting for Mrsha to ‘kill him dead’ didn’t help.

Mrsha leaned forwards and wrote tiny words in the air.

Golly, go away, please. I just want to make peace with Rinni. I’ve got no quarrel with you, and you don’t with me.

She stared up earnestly at him with her brown eyes. He hesitated—glanced at Rinni, who was jabbing at him with a claw—and then slunk backwards. He kept his eyes on Mrsha and didn’t turn around, like someone backing away from a wild animal. Then he let Shassa scold him.

The angry young Drake was glaring at her soon-to-be-former boyfriend, but she realized, suddenly, that all her friends were somewhere else. Mrsha rubbed at her stomach absently as Rinni backed up a few steps.

“I’m not afraid of you!”

I hope you’re not afraid. I haven’t done anything to you, Rinni. And I’m not scary, I think. I just want you to stop bullying me, please. I know you’re mad at the inn, but I didn’t do anything to you. And I don’t want to be harassed. Can’t we just agree to not get along in peace at school?

Mrsha had worked on her note, and she felt it was the most reasonable offer she could make. Rinni squinted at the words, eyes darting left and right, then she paled.

“I hate you! You and that stupid inn and—you think you’re special, so everyone’s got to be nice to you and treat you well! Like Miss Shassa! She only lets you here because she’s scared of those Goblins and Antinium!”

She pointed at Shassa. Mrsha just stared at Rinni, wondering what to do.

Okay, maybe I do hit her and she’ll either try to kill me or be scared? That’s not an option. What am I supposed to do, apologize? For what? Just tell on her until she quits? Defend myself?

Mrsha was about to write a subtle threat out in the air—paper left too much of a trail of evidence—when someone cleared his throat, and her heart sank. Oh no.

“Excuse me, Miss Mrsha, Miss Rinni? I believe this dispute between the two of you has reached a tipping point. I do apologize, Miss Mrsha, but I did have to go back to the inn for reinforcements.”

Ser Dalimont made Rinni back up several steps. Mrsha closed her eyes and prayed.

Please, not Mother. Not Mother…

To her absolute relief, the first person she saw behind Dalimont wasn’t Lyonette with one of her death-smiles. It was, in fact, a nervous, yellow-scaled Drake with spectacles.

“Rinni! What is going on? Did that boy just hit Miss Mrsha?”

“Mother!”

Rinni paled as Ser Dalimont let the very nervous Drake approach. Wasn’t she a [Librarian] or something…? Mrsha began to get a bad feeling as she started to apologize.

“Knight, sir, I am so sorry—please, let’s not make this an issue! Rinni, apologize and come here, now!”

Dalimont, you pig turd, you’re pressuring Rinni’s mom? That’s low! Mrsha was giving Dalimont a glower of her own. It might work, but it felt nasty. However, the Thronebearer returned her gaze calmly. He stepped to one side with a bow.

“I hope this can all be talked out, Miss Chilette. It’s slightly more than a squabble between children, but there is, to my mind, no need to bring this beyond the parties here. Certainly not back to Miss Lyonette, who can be a tad bit unreasonable in these matters…may I introduce you to an adjudicator whom I believe can resolve the issue? We’ll follow along, and if I may buy you a coffee?”

Who did he have with him? Ishkr? Nerul? Actually, Nerul might work. Mrsha needed a real [Diplomat] for this moment. She was searching for the familiar bulk of the Drake when she realized she couldn’t see anyone behind Dalimont.

Then he stepped aside and revealed a young woman wearing colorful blue suspenders and a red t-shirt. She had a yellow parasol with blue ducks still dripping with rain, and her boots were terribly red.

Nanette Weishart bowed to the surprised mother and daughter, and she had a backward baseball cap on her head. The walking affront against good clothing and witch smiled at Mrsha.

“Hello, Miss Chilette. And hello, Miss Rinni! I’m Witch Nanette, of The Wandering Inn. Mrsha’s older sister. If I may, why don’t we talk in one of the classrooms?”

Nanette? Mrsha’s mouth opened, and she began to write an inquiry as Rinni stared at the young woman, but Nanette held up a finger. She steered Rinni and Mrsha towards a classroom as Dalimont smiled at the nervous [Librarian].

 

——

 

“I’m not scared of you either. I-I’m not! It doesn’t matter if you threaten to hurt me! Leave my mother alone! Lots of people hate you!”

Rinni was shaking with nerves as the fourteen year-old witch took a seat on top of a desk, like the cool kid she was. Mrsha tried to copy her, but she couldn’t pull off Nanette’s style. The witch’s voice was calm, and she was a witch at the moment, class or not. Dress or not.

“Oh, I’m not here on Mrsha’s side, Rinni! I’m here as a witch. Do you know what those are?”

“You don’t have a pointy hat. Yours is stupid.”

Rinni mumbled, trying to keep on being angry, but the presence of an older girl like Nanette and her—attitude—was sapping the girl’s fury. There was something gently overbearing about how Nanette spoke and acted. Suffocating with that kind smile. Rather like Witch Eloise.

Nanette laughed softly.

“I don’t need a pointy hat. I’m just here to make peace, Rinni. I know you and Mrsha haven’t been getting along.”

Rinni glanced at Dalimont and her mother, who were watching from one window, and refused to talk, like a suspect being interrogated by the Watch. However, Nanette seemed to be prepared for everything, because she changed subjects.

“Do you like cute things, Rinni? I bet you do! I have a friend here I’d love to introduce to you. Smallhoof!”

Mrsha hadn’t noticed a little travel-bag at her side until Nanette reached down and pulled out a little Sariant Lamb. Rinni stared, and Mrsha recoiled as the lamb mewled cutely.

“What is that?”

“A Sariant Lamb. He’s very friendly. Go ahead, stroke his head. But be gentle!”

Mrsha knew Nanette was a [Sariantfriend], but she hadn’t expected one of those little monsters. She eyed the lamb as Rinni hesitated, but the girl was still only nine. She cuddled the lamb, and her eyes went round as it nuzzled her face. She hugged the lamb gently, then remembered Nanette was the enemy!

But the witch was calling the shots. She fiddled with her backwards baseball cap and then looked at Rinni.

“Rinni, I know you hate The Wandering Inn. And I know…you hate Mrsha, because your father died fighting Hectval. I’m very sorry, but will you tell us about him?”

The girl froze up. She backed away from Nanette, face growing hostile.

“You don’t care!”

“I do. And I know what it’s like to lose your parents. So does Mrsha.”

Nanette slipped from the table and lifted her hat off her head. She placed it gently down on the school desk, and Mrsha felt something run past her. Cool, wet, and terribly sad.

Rinni blinked as Nanette’s eyes shimmered. The rain fell outside, but it seemed warm compared to the faint tears in her eyes.

“My mother died last year. I never knew my father. Mrsha’s parent, Chieftain Urksh, died two years ago. You have every right to be angry, but not at her, I think. She didn’t do it. I heard your father died fighting Hectval. For Erin, our friend. Can you tell me what his name was?”

Oh. Then, Mrsha saw it and felt embarrassed. She glanced at Ser Dalimont, who gave her a nod, and was embarrassed for thinking he’d go full Lyonette. Thronebearers did know subtlety. And so did witches.

Nanette had Rinni pinned so many ways, from the Sariant Lamb in her hands to the witch’s demeanor and her magic. And…Rinni gazed into the witch’s brown eyes, and she began to shake. The Sariant Lamb, Smallhoof, nuzzled her as she trembled. Then in a small voice, she said.

“Dad’s name was Johnss. He was a [Scribe]. Mom said he shouldn’t go, but he was really mad. He said Hectval shouldn’t have killed the [Innkeeper]. ‘Cause if they did that, they could kill anyone.’ H-he was really brave, everyone said. But then the [Innkeeper] came back to life…and he didn’t. That’s not fair. Why does she get to come back?”

She was crying, and Mrsha stared out the window at the rain. She could hear a door closing…but only in her head. A thousand glowing worlds, realities where everything else happened—but Nanette broke her out of her trance. She took Mrsha’s paw and gently sat down on the floor.

“I’m so sorry, Rinni. Tell me about him. My mother was Califor, a [Witch]. Mrsha? Urksh was part of the Stone Spears tribe, wasn’t he?”

Part of Mrsha hated Nanette’s gentle tone. Hated the way she used emotions like a spear and did more damage than Mrsha could have ever done with her fists or wands. But then she regarded the girl and began to write. Because she wanted Rinni to know.

Like a lonely [Builder] on her island, Mrsha felt like she was trying to build a bridge across the gap between them. Towards the Drake, who finally looked up and saw Mrsha, not an enemy.

 

——

 

An hour or so later, Mrsha’s eyes were red, and she was all cried out for a moment. She and Rinni had hugged before they’d left, and Rinni had apologized. Mrsha thought that the bullying would end after that.

Nanette appeared pleased with herself, despite her own red eyes, and Ser Dalimont had had a productive conversation with Rinni’s mother, it seemed. There was a really good feeling in Mrsha’s chest, despite the strong emotions.

They were walking back towards The Wandering Inn, splashing past a rally of Drakes in the streets. Mrsha sighed as she saw a Gnoll with slicked-back fur shouting from a stand.

“No more rent control! No more chaos! Vote out the old Council!”

He wasn’t getting much applause at first aside from a loyal knot of supporters, so the head of the Merchant’s Guild switched tactics.

“—More fairness for old Liscorians! Less bias, more equality!”

That got cheers from the Gnolls and Drakes. Mrsha sniffed. Oh, equality was what they were calling it? Nanette paused to peer at the crowd.

“That’s more people than last week. They’re not having this Gnoll. It might mean the elections are going to be closer than we think.”

The young witch was running a check on the crowd’s feelings, and Mrsha shrugged.

It’s not like we can do much. This isn’t our battle to fight.

She wasn’t going to be the one to try something and cause a full-scale riot. Good girl behavior all the way down, no matter how much she was tempted to throw a hardboiled egg at that idiot shouting about the poor [Landlords]. Or the idiots who thought he had a point.

But perhaps Mrsha was biased; no one had been charged for a place to sleep in the Stone Spears tribe, no matter if they were the lowest-level and most useless. What were you supposed to do if you couldn’t afford a place to stay? Get rained on in the streets?

Her nascent theories on property and common civil liberties aside, Mrsha didn’t realize they had a problem until Ser Dalimont threw an arm out.

“Miss Mrsha, Miss Nanette—a moment. Stay behind me. I may need to call for backup.”

Mrsha blinked and grew mildly alarmed. She didn’t see a problem, but she realized that she had been unfair to Dalimont with her earlier question. It seemed that a Thronebearer of Calanfer still had challenges in guarding her.

The fact that Ser Dalimont had noticed the shadow waiting for the two girls in the busy street was impressive enough. Neither Nanette nor Mrsha had spotted the woman tucked into the alcove of a building as rain pattered down the awning over her head.

She looked like any new citizen of Liscor, really. A motherly-looking woman with a scarf wrapped around her head, not some red-haired [Princess] or [Mage]. But Mrsha wondered how many people in Liscor, even now, could claim to outlevel her.

Miss Ebente, the [Carer] hired by Queen Ielane, stepped forwards, and Ser Dalimont didn’t reach for his shield or sword. He stepped forwards, interposing his body between Mrsha and the [Carer], but the girl wrote in the air.

Dalimont, don’t.

“I would like to talk to Mrsha, please. I insist upon it, Knight.”

Ebente looked Dalimont in the eyes without fear, and he eyed her as she glanced at Mrsha. But the girl had rather thought this might also be coming. She was glad Ebente hadn’t come to the inn. Again, sometimes having Lyonette for a mother meant knowing when she was the unreasonable one.

“—A café, then?”

Dalimont offered a compromise, and the [Carer] nodded after a second. She was watching Mrsha, not with that desperate determination like the last time, when she’d tried to rescue Roots Mrsha for all the right reasons in the world. She appeared…terribly sad.

Mrsha felt so bad for her.

 

——

 

The café served paninis and ice cream milkshakes, among other things. Erin’s cooking, stolen and probably upgraded if you were being honest. Mrsha ordered a panini even though she wasn’t really hungry, and split it with Nanette. They bought a hot one for Miss Ebente too, and a milkshake.

She clearly hadn’t had the food before, and it distracted her a bit as Dalimont and Nanette sat at a table where they could watch Mrsha, but not overhear. The woman had wanted to talk to Mrsha alone. She observed Mrsha chewing on her food for a while before speaking in a low voice.

“I’ve been observing you for the last week, Mrsha. You appear—happy. You’re eating enough. You feel happy.”

You can sense how I’m doing?

The [Carer] nodded. She sipped from her milkshake and gazed past Mrsha.

“That’s my job. I am a [Caretaker]. Like a [Carer]. Do you know my class?”

Mrsha nodded, and the woman explained with a faint smile. She seemed sort of like Miss Shassa, and Mrsha bet that she was sort of like a [Teacher], a [Mother], and a [Carer] rolled into one. For cities smaller than Pallass, perhaps? Or for whomever needed her.

“I make sure children are taken care of. I was at First Landing before this, but I’ve been to many cities. I’m not that high-level.”

Level 32 wasn’t that high-level? Mrsha raised her brows, but Ebente went on softly.

“There are better [Caretakers] than me. Real ones. I worked with one of Lady Lis’ helpers for a year. Do you know Lady Lis?”

No clue.

That didn’t surprise Ebente. She nodded.

“She worked on Chandrar when the King of Destruction was awake. The first time. She passed away—but her apprentices carried most of her levels. A [Carer] is a fine class. They can help families who need someone to mind a child. They’re compassionate, hardworking, mostly, unless it’s just a low-level one who doesn’t respect their class. But they’re not [Caretakers]. They seldom do more than try to make things better in small ways.”

Like…take a child away from a bad place? I’m very sorry how you were treated at the inn, Miss Ebente. You did the right thing, but I can’t go with you. I’m happy at the inn. And safe as I can be. I don’t want to go, and I don’t think I’m someone you should rescue.

Ebente gazed past Mrsha, her half-eaten panini steaming on her plate. She spoke abruptly.

“This isn’t the kind of thing I tell girls your age unless they’re too old. Like you. Most [Caretakers] who reach my level have—troubles. I was banned from First Landing when Calanfer hired me to come here. I was working with the Five Families. Noble households.”

Oh. Lots of sad children? Nobles wouldn’t let you take their kids away from them.

“No. But there are ways to pressure them, if you have no fear.”

She was a very brave woman, then. Mrsha felt worse. Ebente gazed past her.

“I was told you needed protection. I thought I might have to do more, but when I saw you…the last child I saw who had suffered like that was in the middle of a Drake war between cities that had become a siege. I failed.”

I didn’t want your help. Miss Ebente, I understand what you think, but I’m not like other children. I’m Level 22. I don’t think you can help me like the others.

Mrsha was very worried what the woman might do. But Ebente just gazed at her, and Mrsha realized the woman was very sad—and also confused and, perhaps, even a bit afraid.

“I watched you for this last week. To see how you were doing. Not the one before that. I was seeing a [Thought Healer] in Invrisil. I thought I’d lost my mind.”

The girl stopped chewing on her panini and put it down. Oh. Oh no. Ebente was dry-eyed as she watched Mrsha, but she spoke with a voice that quivered.

“I don’t understand. Were there two of you?”

Sort of. Yes.

The [Caretaker] closed her eyes. Mrsha tried to write an explanation, and then she saw Ebente’s eyes open again.

“Were there…more? Somewhere? In the inn, but far away?”

Her eyes were gazing at something she couldn’t see nor imagine. This time, Mrsha wrote even slower.

Yes. But there’s nothing you could have done. That’s the inn, Miss Ebente. And this was the biggest thing yet. Please, don’t blame yourself.

“I should take you somewhere far away. But Calanfer has told me to stop. So I imagine it would be incredibly difficult. Your mother will chase me, and she’s more dangerous than a Lady of the Five Families.”

Still, the woman didn’t look afraid. Just incredibly guilty. Mrsha nodded.

I’d fight you. This is my home. You can’t protect me, Miss Ebente. These things happen to everyone—

“They should not happen to you. You don’t understand. You shouldn’t think like that! No one should be here if that is what you have to believe.”

The woman reached over the table and captured Mrsha’s paw in a strong, yet gentle, grip. Her fingers were trembling. Ebente’s voice was hoarse.

“I could try. He couldn’t stop me. I have every right, and I believe there are enough good people in Liscor. But how far could I go, to outrun Calanfer? Or this inn? If I tried and levelled, and called everyone I know, perhaps I could do it.”

Please don’t. I’d be so unhappy.

Ebente gave Mrsha a terrible look, like a warrior staring down an impossible battle. But resolved…

Oh, she would have fit in the [Palace of Fates] so horribly well. Mrsha was so glad she hadn’t been there. Ebente would never have come back.

“It would be so much easier if you were unhappy. If you would just ask me, I would do it. But I’m too low-level. And I’ve already failed.”

The [Caretaker] rose, and Mrsha felt a surge of relief and a pang of guilt in her chest.

I mean what I said. Thank you.

“Don’t thank me.”

The [Caretaker] avoided Mrsha’s eyes. She reached for her money pouch, and Mrsha tried to stop her. But the woman carefully placed down some coins on the tables. She shook her head.

“It’s you, Mrsha. You or dozens. Maybe even hundreds of children who need someone like me. There are never enough of us. However it has to be done, with mercy and bravery and a plea to common decency like my teachers—or an axe—we’re needed. And I could help you or many more. I’m so, so very sorry.”

Oh. That was it. Mrsha wasn’t surprised to realize that Ebente knew Hedag. She wondered, if Lyonette were an actually bad mother or if she were actually being hurt, if they chased Ebente off, if she’d come back with Hedag? She wondered how far the [Caretaker] had gone or would go.

So that’s it?

It was just a logical conclusion. Ebente nodded. Then she spun away.

“There’s always a war. But even if there were no wars in the entire world—I’d be needed in the most prosperous paradises, and it wouldn’t be any easier. I’m not ready, but I think I’m needed. In the New Lands.”

Mrsha didn’t get it until she felt a sinking pit in her stomach.

There aren’t any children there. No one would be that stupid, would they?

Ebente gave her a bleak look.

“Families go together. Some decided to bet their entire fortunes on the New Lands. Parents are terribly selfish creatures. Goodbye, Mrsha. If you ever need help, then send a [Message] to these people.”

She had a piece of paper in hand. Her name was on the top. Mrsha took it and peered up at Ebente.

Can I give you some gold, Miss Ebente? Please? To help out? Or a healing potion? Dalimont—

The woman halted as the Thronebearer rose. She accepted both potion and gold, murmuring faint thanks, then she was standing, and Mrsha awkwardly got to her feet. She felt like she should apologize, but all the woman did was wrap her scarf around her neck.

“I’m so sorry, Mrsha.”

You didn’t fail me. But she had. Ebente stared at her hands, then turned towards the rainy street.

“I levelled twice. I wondered, why? But I took them. You understand, it’s you or so many.”

I get it. I’m happier than so many. Go, Miss Ebente, and please don’t feel bad.

Mrsha’s paws were trembling, and the [Caretaker] glanced back, once. Her kind eyes flashed.

“—Do you need my help, Mrsha? Just ask.”

She twisted around, and Mrsha saw Ser Dalimont’s face growing apprehensive. No matter what it took…the girl admired Ebente then, terribly deeply. And she thought there was no way she’d ever be someone like that woman. There were some things too hard for her.

The Gnoll girl lifted a paw and waved, silently. So the [Caretaker] bowed and strode away, and Nanette stopped squeezing Mrsha’s other paw. They watched her walk into the rain, and Nanette murmured.

“All the [Witches] always say that Witch Hedag is the most fearsome and hardest-working out of all of us. I wondered why she was at the coven for Riverfarm, because she seemed so unimpressive compared to the other [Witches]. Now, I think I get why they respect her.”

Mrsha nodded silently. Then she hugged her sister, and they paid for their food and drinks.

Painful conversations all around. Good ones. Mrsha silently added Ebente to a list in her head of everyone she respected or admired. And she hoped the living would continue to outnumber the dead.

She’d do what she could to keep it that way, small as it was. But for now…

They went back home.

 

——

 

The only trick was getting them all back to the inn before Lyonette noticed the red eyes. They used the [Garden of Sanctuary] to avoid going through the common room, and Mrsha thanked Dalimont and Nanette for the help.

Smallhoof too. The Sariant was a bit less emotional about the entire thing. In fact, Nanette was stuffing gold coins into a bag around his neck. He gave Mrsha a ‘good for you’ kind of placid stare as Nanette hugged her sister.

“Thanks for trusting me, Mrsha. And I think I actually acted like my class today. I’m going to talk to Wall Lord Ilvriss. You coming?”

Mrsha gestured at her red eyes.

Give me thirty minutes to chill out. I’m just gonna hang around the gardens, okay, Dalimont?

He bowed.

“Of course, Miss Mrsha. Your friends are at the inn already; I’ll have refreshments sent around and inform them all is well.”

The man left her alone, and Mrsha stood in the garden until a little bee buzzed down. Mrsha hugged Apista.

Hey, Apista, today was a pretty tiring day. Emotional.

The bee did a slow barrel-roll in Mrsha’s arms.

No kidding? Emotional? Since when are they not?

With a sigh, Mrsha tossed the bee upwards, and Apista flew higher, smoking one of Niers’ tiny cigars. She supposed saving the tiny [Strategist] and acting as his mount had benefits; he kept sending the little cigars each month in care packages for Apista. And what did Mrsha get for bandaging him up and whatnot? Nothing, that’s what.

The girl stood in the [Garden of Sanctuary] for a while, then glanced around. She padded around the hill, where no one, not even Apista, could see her. And then Mrsha opened the second door.

 

——

 

She was a good girl. She was trying to be, she really was. It was easy, and oh so very hard. But sometimes, right now, the girl needed to be herself. And what ‘herself’ was was changing.

The ordinary kilt and t-shirt that Mrsha wore went in a little chest she’d stored in this second garden. She felt naked without it, which was really odd; when had she become such a clothing-person? Her mother had just let her run around naked in the inn? That was bad parenting.

Then the girl collected the rest of the objects in the chest. There were only a few, but she put them on one at a time.

A ring from the future. A pair of handsome red robes that weren’t as cool as the [Archdruid]’s robes, but close, and a staff in two hovering pieces.

Then Mrsha began to climb into the second [Garden of Sanctuary]. It wasn’t like Ser Dalimont wouldn’t know how to find her, and Lyonette knew she was here. But for a moment—Mrsha was alone. The robes of Warmage Thresk clung to her, and they were very cool, despite the sand and light that blew across her face.

A storm of sand was howling down, harsh grit passing across the Gnoll’s fur, the same color. In the distance, more dunes of sand rose across the dome, and the girl climbed towards the central hill.

She felt her legs getting a workout after a few minutes of hiking. But she used the clockwork-staff as a walking stick and kept going upwards.

Exercising. She was climbing the mountain of sand that led up towards the center of the dome. Ascending upwards, through the blazing sunlight and the whirling sands.

She didn’t know who owned this garden; it was the third one that spoke of Chandrar, but even more inhospitable than the arid garden that had belonged to a flier or Pomle’s lost [Garden of Sanctuary]. Whatever was here, the sandstorm had covered it all, and an ever-shifting mountain meant all you could do was climb or be buried by the storm.

As far as Mrsha knew, she was the only one who had spent any time here; no one had found anything given the inhospitable environment. She kept heading up the mountain, slipping, sliding down, doggedly working her way upwards with only the storm for company. But the howling wind and darkness of this garden wasn’t what she was listening to.

The Gnoll’s ears were filled with music. A crystal-clear song played from the magical W-Ring from the future. Songs that no one in this world had ever heard, unless Rianchi, Dyeda, or Rags had found the exact same songs as she had.

A song so piercingly painful that she could never just stand still when she listened to it. Like so many that had come with this magical artifact. Mrsha knew that if she wanted to, she could probably sell the songs and become famous, or do something with them. But she didn’t fancy those consequences.

All she wanted to do was this. The Gnoll climbed towards the rays of light shining down from the top of the mountain of sand, and she’d never made it up to the top. Even hours of effort wouldn’t let her climb up there, but it wasn’t the destination, but the ascent that mattered.

Well, she also wanted to know what the view from the top was like. But until then, Mrsha doggedly climbed. After a moment, when the wind blew her head-over-heels down the mountain, she stopped, closed her eyes, and lifted her staff overhead.

Then she cast a spell, and the red robes whipped around her. The Relic-class staff blazed in her paws, and Mrsha wondered when she’d find someone to give it to. But for a moment, she cast a spell of wonders and began to climb again. Up a staircase of glittering steps made of light.

Listening to the song—sung by that familiar voice.

Cara O’Sullivan had covered so many songs from Earth, and the magical ring held them all. Mrsha listened to her soft voice and knew that the [Singer] of that world in the future had been better than even the Singer of Terandria of her world. She captured every note and nuance of the song like the original singers.

Up, higher and higher.

The song, Golden Slumbers, kept playing on repeat in her ears until she switched to another track by the same band. And she was content.

 

——

 

How long Mrsha climbed, she didn’t know. Only when someone came to get her did she stop and turn.

A taller Gnoll with brown fur was watching her, hands in her pockets. She said nothing as the sand blew over her until Mrsha switched off the music. Then Arrema, the older Mrsha from the another world, spoke.

“You’ve got terrible taste. The Beatles, really? What are you, fifty years old? Only the Earthers and old folks like that stuff.”

Hey, I didn’t ask for your criticisms. All your recommendations suck. It’s all about pining for love and sex.

Arrema rolled her eyes.

“You’ll get it eventually.”

Mrsha mimed sticking a finger down her throat and vomiting. Then they just stood together. Arrema glanced at Mrsha’s robes and staff.

“Nice gear.”

Want it?

Mrsha offered somewhat unwillingly, but Arrema shook her head. She flexed her arms.

“I’ve got to start from the bottom. That’s the only way you level. I’m thinking, Mrsha, I know where I might want to go.”

Mrsha’s ears perked up.

“Really? Where?”

“Oh, Salazsar. Remember old Wer the Wanderer? We never went to him, but I always wondered what the heck happened. In my time, Salazsar fell to pieces. There was this huge uprising that became bloody…turns out you lost Sellme way before we did. In my world, he got executed publicly, and it started the riots.”

Mrsha nodded slowly.

Wer’s not gonna trust you, even if I write him a letter, though.

“Hey, I’ve got the fur to prove I’m legit. And I’m a tough girl. I can handle myself! I can’t just sit around scheming like Moore. I mean, my Moore. He’s going around making deals with everyone and working his way into Liscor. And countering the Mother of Graves; he’s got every well in the city marked, and I bet he’s tossing the cure in there soon. He’s got Liscor, and he’ll just look over my shoulder. Same with your Mom. I’m not taking orders from someone a year older than I am!”

Arrema jerked a thumb at her chest, and Mrsha nodded. She tilted her head slowly.

Just one small problem. In this world, a lot of white-furred Gnolls are former Plain’s Eye. So…you might have a bit of a problem proving you’re cool anyways.

The older Mrsha faltered, then threw up her paws.

“Oh come on! How much stupid stuff did you guys get up to? At least I don’t have to assassinate Xherw…nothing’s fun here. So—Dalimont sent me to get you. Want to get back to the inn? I want to talk to Ilvriss, but he doesn’t know me. Could you sort of introduce me?”

Mrsha nodded. She took her older self by the paw as they walked back to her chest. Arrema murmured.

“It’s a shame he’s still mourning Periss. Because he’s really cool, y’know? Hot.”

I’m going to throw up. What’s wrong with you?

She turned, and an older version of herself grinned. Mrsha walked out of the garden, shaking sand off her fur. When she couldn’t take it anymore, the memories, her guilt, her agony, she’d go back into that garden and fire a spell up at the sky. Or just climb.

“You’re older now, Mrsha. Does it feel bad?”

Arrema asked her, and Mrsha just smiled.

I’m firing [Grand Lightning] up at the sky. It’s awesome. Don’t tell Mom.

“Lips sealed. Can I try with the staff later?”

Sure.

 

——

 

That evening, the inn was full of noise. So much so that Lyonette had to cordon off parts of it. Relc was in the common room, reenacting the entire case with Zevara—who wasn’t even here! They’d asked her to attend, but she had to ‘close the case’.

However, that wasn’t the only event. Wall Lord Ilvriss was in fact in the [Garden of Sanctuary] having a more private dinner than the raucous inn—everyone seemed to think that Zevara’s antics were the inn’s fault, but it wasn’t anything Lyonette had done!

Kevin and Joseph…maybe. However, Lyonette just ran around making sure they had enough capacity for everything, and then she went to find Valeterisa. She settled everything to her satisfaction for tomorrow, and only then did she get to the real dinner party.

Ilvriss was having dinner on the grass, and a meatball rolled off his plate and down the hill. Apista buzzed down after it and dropped it back on his plate. His expression indicated he would rather not eat the grass-covered meatball.

“Hey, Lyonette, any luck on getting you-know-who and Joseph in here?”

Rose jumped to her feet as Ilvriss flicked the meatball off his plate again, and Apista went after it. Lyonette shook her head.

“Joseph’s surrounded by fans talking soccer—excuse me, football. And as for Kevin, he’s having too much fun with Drassi.”

Rose offered Lyonette a rather salacious, and pointed, smile.

“Ooh, fun-fun or…?”

“Just fun, Rose.”

Lyonette threw herself down on the grass with a huge sigh of relief. She was tired! Wall Lord Ilvriss cleared his throat, eying Rose side-long. He didn’t really remember the Earthers well, and she seemed radically different from his memories.

“If I’m taking away from the moment, we could move into the main inn—”

“No, no, I want to talk to you, not shout above the rest, Ilvriss! Anyone is free to go, though. Nerul is certainly holding his own at the bar.”

No one did. They had Rose, Imani, Mrsha, Nanette, Bird, Yelroan, Octavia, Dalimont, Ushar, Ishkr, Arrema sitting next to Wall Lord Ilvriss, and even Xesci in this quiet ‘inn family’ gathering. And Apista. The bee buzzed down and dropped a meatball into Lyonette’s hand. The [Princess] threw it instantly, and Apista flew off happily.

“Nerul’s been working extremely hard. He deserves a night off. Where’s Elia Arcsinger?”

Ilvriss cast around, and Nanette pointed.

“She’s with Calescent. They hang out.”

“Arcsinger. With Calescent.”

“He’s one of the only people nice to her.”

Ilvriss blinked, but it was a mark of his veterancy that he just took another bite of his dinner.

“I shouldn’t ever be surprised by this place. Dead gods, but this is good pasta and meatballs.”

“I worked on the recipe.”

Imani volunteered, and Ilvriss gave her a respectful nod.

“If you’d ever care to work in trying circumstances, we’d hire you for the excavation in a heartbeat. Wonderful taste. It goes splendidly with this grape juice.”

He was enjoying himself, and Lyonette shifted as she gazed about the company. She spoke abruptly.

“Ilvriss, now we’ve put a door near enough to you to get within half a day’s ride, I think you should visit more. And I certainly can do the same for your project!”

She’d missed him. Genuinely and truly, he was good with the inn, and she had appreciated his input on the Tessa situation. Ilvriss patted his mouth with a napkin.

“I agree. There’s a touch of insanity I’ve missed with the inn’s folk. We could have used it—or an earthquake or sinkhole—these last few months.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Lyonette chuckled at him, then grew serious.

“How bad was it, Ilvriss?”

He fiddled with his napkin and shot Xesci a glance; she grimaced, and Ilvriss murmured.

“Truly, it was just organizational issues. Most of it wasn’t anything to write about. I could share the entire tale, but I think it’d bore more than entertain. If no one has anything else to bring up, I could tell it.”

He regarded Mrsha and Lyonette, clearly hoping they’d talk about the [Palace of Fates]…but the memory of who was buried in the [Garden of Sanctuary] almost made Lyonette push her plate away. The fact that Mrsha was sitting, eating, kept her from doing that, but it was too close.

No one else said anything, but Lyonette did have something to bring up. Yet she wasn’t sure.

“I…have something fit for conversation, actually. It was yesterday when I had a few beverages that I received a—I encountered someone.”

Nanette, Mrsha, Ishkr, Bird, everyone sat up. They grew fascinated, and Ilvriss raised his brows. He began to sip from his cup, then thought better of it and put it down.

“Who?”

“Erin.”

Ilvriss inhaled sharply. Then Apista slammed into the side of his head. The bee was as shocked as the Wall Lord! Erin? No way!

Then Apista realized they weren’t pretending to be shocked and buzzed over to land on Mrsha’s head. Lyonette wanted to relate all of the encounter, and she was prepared to talk about the odd size Erin had been in this trusted company…but she hesitated.

There was a sizable portion of their discussion that her instincts were telling her not to share under any circumstances, even to this group that loved and wanted the best for Erin. Both on a political level and a personal one, it was private.

Assuming I’m right. I want to, dead gods, but I wouldn’t betray her trust like that. But whom could Lyonette talk to? For she had to talk to someone.

Colfa? But the Vampiress, a good confidant in many matters, wasn’t an expert in this. Lyonette’s gaze flickered around the group and landed on the best candidate.

Rose was as open-mouthed as everyone else, but she seemed to sense Lyonette’s reserve, and her cheeks flushed. Or…changed?

Lyonette felt her heart skip a beat as Rose smiled in a way that defined coquettishness. And Lyonette had never seen the word illustrated so well. Rose had changed after the [Palace of Fates]. In ways that were subtle, but right now, she was being unsubtle.

“Mother of—what did you just do, Rose?”

Imani certainly noticed whatever Rose was doing and nearly leapt into Nanette as she jerked away from the other Earther. Rose stopped and apologized.

“Sorry, Imani. Just testing new tricks. What did Erin say? What was she like?”

“How’s the Titan’s company?”

Ilvriss was so lost at sea he was probably still floating on Erin’s raft. Lyonette took a breath to explain.

“She’s alright.”

The note of pure, plain relief in her voice made everyone stir. They waited, but Lyonette let the words linger for a moment, and the smile that crossed her face seemed to spread like a disease onto their faces.

She’s alright. Then, of course, Lyonette explained fully, omitting the last part of the conversation. It took a while since she had to catch Ilvriss onto the [Palace of Fates] and the fact that the ‘Erin’ he was seeing was fake. The Wall Lord was shaking his head.

“A fake? That’s…actually very reasonable. I thought she was off, but Xesci was adamant that wasn’t her.”

He turned to the [Courtesan], who smiled rather smugly.

“She walks different. Everything else aside, that’s obvious as the sun.”

Then Mrsha began demanding answers about what the ‘Battle Hamster’ looked like in person. And without revealing a possible Erin secret, Lyonette could just talk about what she’d seen—and the real part, which was just Erin.

“She seemed better. Truly.”

That was all, and perhaps Ilvriss didn’t quite get it, but everyone else did. Ishkr exhaled, and Mrsha leaned against Nanette, who hugged her with one arm.

Better. The Wall Lord gazed into his cup.

“I haven’t had the honor of her calling me into this [Pavilion of Secrets], but she is busy. Perhaps later.”

He looked so wistful that Lyonette felt guilty and assured Ilvriss that Erin was busy—and had been dying—and it had been bad until recently. He nodded solemnly, and she sprang to her feet.

“That’s all I wanted to share in private. Come on, Wall Lord, you are missing a Solstice, nay, Wandering Inn event. Let’s rejoin the gathering!”

She tugged him to his feet, and surprised, he let her drag her into the common room where everyone was still talking about the day’s events and partying.

“I always wanted to be Fraerling-sized. You know, that’s one of the things they don’t have in the future.”

Arrema remarked to Mrsha as they walked out. Ilvriss half-turned his head and nearly went over a table. And Lyonette decided…she’d let Arrema figure that one out if she wanted to.

She was intending to subtly catch Rose before she left, but to her surprise, the young woman lingered behind. Her smile when they were alone in the [Garden of Sanctuary] was oddly mischievous.

“Let me know if I’m crazy, but I feel like you want to talk to me, Lyonette?”

The [Princess] frowned as she closed the door to the inn for a second and inspected Rose again.

“You’re correct, but that’s awfully perceptive of you, Rose.”

More than usual. Rose had always struck Lyonette as a rather thoughtless young woman. Someone with her heart in the right place with a decent sense of responsibility, but like her group, she’d had a bad entry into the inn.

That felt like ages ago. Imani had been traumatized, the others had been useless—Joseph had been drunk—look at them now. Even Kevin had turned from a funny, likeable guy into someone who’d changed the world.

If anything, Lyonette felt bad for Rose because she hadn’t changed things in any great way. She’d done good work in the Meeting of Tribes, but Lyonette only had second-hand accounts of that. Rose deserved to make something of herself, like the other Earthers.

In Lyonette’s thoughts, she had unconsciously cut Leon out of her image of the Earthers. Even Troydel was doing some good work in Pallass. But Rose?

…Something was very different about her, actually. Lyonette frowned. She hadn’t gotten so close to Rose before, but the longer she stared, the more obvious it was.

It was a kind of allure or—eyecatching element. Like natural poise or charisma that made someone the center of attention in a room, but Rose had not had that a while ago.

“What’s happened to you, Rose? I was going to, ah, ask about something Erin said. Which I hope you’ll keep private, but I’m noticing you’ve also—changed.”

Rose did a twirl around on her feet, looking quite delighted by the attention.

“You’re the only other person to notice! I’ve been keeping it under wraps, mostly. I suppose a high-level [Princess] can sense it.”

“Who’s the second person?”

“Xesci. She was giving me tips. Mostly about using protection! Eugh! I guess they do have condoms in this world.”

What was that? Lyonette frowned. Why on earth would…

Her eyes narrowed, and Rose winked at her and switched whatever effect she was generating up to maximum. Then Lyonette felt the same sensation as yesterday. The same giddy excitement as when she’d been drunk and talking to Erin. A kind of infatuation with trying new things. She stared at Rose’s lips, the slightly pointed teeth—then looked down. Rose wiggled her hips suggestively. Lyonette reached down and grabbed Rose’s butt.

“Oh! Hey, Lyonette—”

“What is that in your pants?”

As statements went, that one wasn’t the best, but Lyonette wasn’t staring at Rose’s front, but her behind. Rose’s posterior had developed a wiggle. Was that a…

“Is that a tail?”

“Hey, it’s still growing! Don’t touch—”

Rose was trying to heighten the seductive expression—right until Lyonette grabbed her ear and twisted it.

“Rose Cinevoy, what have you gotten yourself into?”

The wincing young woman tried to get away.

“Lyonette! Let me explain! It was just—look, it’s totally okay, I can reverse it and appear normal when I want! And it was consensual! I just made a little deal.”

“With whom?”

Then Lyonette had a thought. There was only one person who fit the bill of ‘deal’—she cast around.

“Where is Viscount Visophecin? I’ll kill him. I’ll get Pawn to kill him.”

“Nonono! I wanted this, Lyonette! Don’t do anything crazy! Listen, I’m just leaning into, well, experimenting. This is what I wanted. Damn it, I thought I was supposed to be super charming and seductive! Stop twisting my ear!”

All the powers of Rose’s new whatever-she-was didn’t work against the power of ear-twisting. Lyonette hissed at her.

“Making deals with Visophecin is insane!”

Rose lifted a finger.

“As insane as using the box or opening doors in the [Palace of Fates]?”

She yelped as Lyonette twisted her ear hard, but then the [Princess] let go. She rubbed at her face, then took a deep breath.

“You know what? You’re an adult. Whatever you get into, as long as you don’t bring it back to the inn without very good reason, it’s your choice. I’m sorry, Rose. Let me try again.”

Rose smiled in relief. She went to hug Lyonette.

“Hey, I was going to tell you once the transformation finished. It has a lot of, uh, really interesting features. And I think you were feeling a bit of interest in me, right? Totally normal—um—”

She realized that she wasn’t the only person with something interesting in their pants. Lyonette’s sword was unsheathed and under Rose’s chin.

“What did you do, Rose? Full explanation, thank you.”

It was mostly for show because they were in the [Garden of Sanctuary], but Rose gulped.

“Okay, fine, fine! I’m a Succubus! Sort of! I’m pretty sure that’s the deal I made with Visophecin.”

“A—what?”

Lyonette listened to a quick and very garbled explanation from Rose. Then she lowered the sword and began rubbing at her forehead.

“Allow me to confirm. You just made yourself into some kind of being of myths from your world’s religion?”

“Satanic religion. Only the cool kids like that.”

Rose added helpfully. Lyonette stared at her.

“A species that is quite literally a Demon.”

“Technically, I think they’re closer to Devils—”

Lyonette raised the sword again, and Rose shielded herself. But Lyonette just thunked Rose ever-so-gently with the flat of her blade.

“Rose…why?”

The young woman spread her hands earnestly.

“Well, I didn’t have any power, Lyonette. Everyone else was levelling, and I felt like I was important with Adetr in the Meeting of Tribes, but I never levelled, you know? And now I’m here, on Saliss and Mirn’s side, and, well—they need help.”

So how does that make a pact with Visophecin a good idea? Rose elaborated.

“Charm is one of the things my…species…is supposed to be really good at. Seduction, really. But I’m going to be super ethical about it.”

Ethical about what? Then Lyonette’s eyes narrowed.

“Ethically seducing people? Of the same gender?”

The young woman innocently folded her hands behind her back.

“I don’t know, just making people think a bit wouldn’t be the worst, would it? Don’t worry, I’m being ultra-subtle.”

The fact that she hadn’t already caused an incident after a few weeks and Lyonette was just picking up on it now was actually a good sign, but Lyonette was almost thinking her pulling a sword on Rose was the right move.

This could be a terribly bad decision! Turnscales were not a light topic—but if anyone knew that, it would be Rose. Once more, the [Princess] was wrestling with the problem before she sighed.

“Alright, Rose. You’re able to make your own decisions. I’m not going to stop you, but we will have a conversation about dangers and the inn, agreed? And you’re also going to spend a day in Miss Xesci’s company.”

Chastened, Rose nodded.

“I was going to talk to her anyways. I bet someone in the sex work industry knows all the dangers. But I’m not upset with my decision, Lyonette. Unlike Erin, Visophecin says there’s no real risk with this kind of thing. And hey, if you’ve got a soul, why not sell a bit of it? Right?”

She beamed at Lyonette’s expression.

“Now, what were you going to talk to me about?”

The [Princess] had almost forgotten about her actual goal. She began to relate her encounter with Erin hesitantly.

“This is not to be shared with anyone, Rose. I mean it. I only threatened to stab you with my sword here. If you betray Erin’s trust—but you would know about this.”

Rose sombered in a gratifying way.

“Whoa, I get it now I’m in this world! This is super serious. Swear on my life. What, uh, what did you talk to Erin about? Mind you, I think I got a whiff of something. You were acting a bit, uh, attracted for a second when you were talking about being drunk with Erin.”

She already had an inkling? Lyonette glowered, but because her cheeks had become red this time. She muttered.

“I…may have said something strictly true in the moment. Due to the drinks and the way the pavilion works. But that’s not important. What’s important, Rose, is…”

When she related her suspicions, Rose didn’t gasp or say anything for a moment. She just stood, staring thoughtfully into the distance. Then she nodded.

“Yep. I have no idea. I wish I could have seen Erin or I could see her now. Because I can see it, Lyonette. But she could be like you.”

“Like me?”

Rose nodded absently.

“If I turn the charm up, I think you might be interested in me or someone. Or if you were drunk, but my instincts say that you’re not normally going to try to court me. Preferences, and everyone’s on a spectrum…Erin could be ace. Or demi, or…it’s complex, but I’m sure she’s not sure herself. And you don’t want to push her or make her feel pressured.”

That was such a reasonable comment that Lyonette relaxed. She nodded a few times.

“Absolutely. And I wasn’t doing that! I was just—testing.”

“Oh, sure, you two are friends. But have you ever seen hints…? You know what? We should have a talk. Very respectfully of her. But the key thing is to be a good friend, y’know?”

Rose smiled at Lyonette, and the [Princess] nodded. She could do that. They agreed to have a conversation—not now with Ilvriss here, but Rose confirmed she was the right pick for this, despite the surprise about her new deal.

“Plenty of people can be happy without diving into relationships, let alone sex and stuff. I realize that I’m not the best purveyor of that message—but if she’s unhappy or searching, that’s different. The important thing is we’re supporting her, even if we’re trying to figure out stuff too. Is she happy as-is?”

The [Princess] stood there for a moment and remembered Erin smiling as she rode the beetle. A smile, after so much and so long. She took a breath and shook her head.

“No. I don’t think so. I think she can be a lot happier, Rose. That’s what I want to see.”

The truest thing she’d said was that. A smile from Erin was like temptation. One little sip, and Lyonette wanted more than a sliver of sunlight. She wanted to bask in that sun.

Only when she turned to say they should go into the inn did she see Rose staring at her curiously. Lyonette blinked.

“What?”

“Nothing. I was just thinking—‘oh. That’s what platonic love looks like’. It’s…something.”

Rose averted her eyes, blushing, and Lyonette didn’t have a comment for that. She just shook her head, then tugged Rose towards the door.

“I’m sorry for threatening you with a sword. I wasn’t going to cut you, but I’ve had too many surprises, Rose.”

“Hey, no problem, Lyonette. I’m sorry for using my Skills on you. I still have Skills, by the way.”

“You’re forgiven.”

“Awesome. And if you ever did want to see what it’s like, hit me up.”

Lyonette sighed loudly and almost kicked Rose into the common room. Temptation, a literal temptress under her roof. Wonderful.

 

——

 

Wall Lord Ilvriss realized Lyonette hadn’t followed him out of the garden. He supposed she was attending to something inside, so he wandered the common room of the inn.

A full nostalgic trip. Filled with both pain and smiles, as such things were. It was odd for it to be ‘nostalgic’ given he’d gotten to know the inn only, what, two years ago? But there it was. The quality of life versus the quantity of it, or something.

The only problem was that Ilvriss wasn’t the most gregarious of sorts. He couldn’t walk up and slap someone on the back, but he did his best.

“Is that Menolit I see? I’ve heard of Liscor Hunted even in Salazsar. Hello, hello!”

The surprised Drake shook his hand, half-rising, and Ilvriss got engaged in a conversation about the activity before politely turning down the opportunity to try to survive on a water-drenched island during the rainy season.

Ilvriss nodded at a Goblin.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Ilvriss, Wall Lord of Salazsar. And you are?”

“Sticks.”

The Cave Goblin shook Ilvriss’ hand cautiously, and Ilvriss gestured around.

“Good to see so many, uh, employees. I recognize Rosencrantz, I believe. Is, uh, Silveran here?”

Erin had talked about him a lot. Where was that Worker with the mop? Sticks gave Ilvriss a curious stare.

“Silveran? He big cleaning man in the city. He never come here. Silverstache sometimes comes here.”

“…I don’t know a Silverstache, but I’d be delighted to meet him. Wasn’t there another Antinium with the silver motif? Silver…mop?”

Sticks paused.

“Oh, yah. Silvermop is dead.”

“Oh, of course. My condolences…”

Like that, Ilvriss nearly reached for a drink before remembering it had to be goat’s milk. He muttered to Nerul out of the corner of his mouth.

“Dead gods, it feels like I’m at a reunion of Zail’s old war-buddies. Five seconds in and they’re toasting the dead.”

The [Diplomat] was pouring himself a drink of wine that Ilvriss was trying not to glower at. He gave his nephew an understanding smile.

“Well, now you know how your father feels.”

“What? Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve been gone so long—”

“And you’re part of the inn, Nephew. You think Zail likes going to those reunions? He dreads them. Now, if I were a thinking Drake, and I never claimed to be, I’d wonder how I should act if I don’t want to make the same mistakes. Excuse me, now, I see two delightful ladies to chat up.”

By that, Nerul meant Elia Arcsinger and—Bird? Ilvriss opened his mouth as he eyed the female Antinium. He trusted Nerul was just being social.

He hoped that was just it. But the [Diplomat]’s advice was good. Ilvriss began to put a bit more conscious thought into his interactions. That was why he deliberately noticed and sought out the company of a somewhat overlooked group.

The Painted Antinium were all sitting together, talking and less-than-jovial despite Zevara’s victory and being in the inn when Ilvriss approached.

“Pawn, Yellow Splatters. Good evening. I’ve returned for a rare visit, and I’d be remiss if I didn’t greet you all. Could I buy your table a round of snacks?”

The [Priest] glanced up and smiled, seemingly surprised—and happy—to receive Ilvriss’ attention.

“Wall Lord, I am very happy you have approached me. We accept, thank you.”

That was how Ilvriss found himself seated by a bunch of Workers and Soldiers. He imagined his father and all his associates in Salazsar would have a heart attack to see him—and in truth, this wasn’t Ilvriss’ usual company. But the Painted Antinium seemed to accept him, and Pawn was happy to talk.

“It is good to see you, Wall Lord. I have been feeling dispirited of late.”

“Oh? I confess I’ve also been down until I came back to the inn. Digging in the north is…challenging.”

“I see, I see. Monsters?”

“No. Humans.”

The Wall Lord would have elaborated, but Pawn just clicked his mandibles.

“I understand that, I believe.”

He did? They were still changing. In fact, one of the Workers grumbled.

“Humans are very objectionable.”

He glowered across the room at a certain [Princess] who’d just left the [Garden of Sanctuary], and Pawn slapped Holytext’s arm.

“Holytext, you are not helping. Lyonette visited our Hive after so long. And invited us to the inn. We are being sociable.”

His voice made the other unhappy Antinium shift, and Ilvriss realized that the snacks in front of them weren’t vanishing like normal. Antinium not enjoying the inn? He eyed Pawn.

“Are you and Lyonette fighting?”

The [Priest] paused, then confessed.

“On the contrary, Wall Lord. We are doing better than normal. It is just that there is a rift between us, and though we have interacted more…she came to sing at one of our congregations. Which was very good.”

“The part where she interrogated your view of Heaven and appeared to be judging the Painted Antinium was most unwelcome. As well as her comments on the nature of our faith.”

Yellow Splatters rumbled. Ilvriss blinked as all the Antinium nodded with him.

“I didn’t realize there was a philosophical difference between the inn and Painted Antinium.”

“Theological, Wall Lord. It is all due to the events of the palace, which Rosencrantz and the Antinium here refuse to relate in great detail. It is not our fault…but it is. A future glimpsed.”

The what and the what now? Ilvriss’ mind was racing. He knew something had gone down, but Lyonette had refused to give him details. He lowered his voice.

“Do you know what happened? Lyonette refused to tell me.”

Pawn smiled ruefully at him.

“I as well, Wall Lord. It is a hurtful feeling only mitigated by the fact that she also did not trust you.”

They chinked mugs, and Pawn drank with Ilvriss.

“The only thing I have gleaned is that an alternate-future version of myself over Level 60 was apparently very unpleasant and nearly killed many people.”

Ilvriss choked on his drink, but he’d learned to avoid the old Goatmilk Blaster. He coughed.

“Er—what?”

“That’s what we want to know!”

Another Painted Antinium hammered a fist on the table. Pawn just sighed into his cup.

“It’s not just that. I feel as though I have been improper to Lyonette, but she has to me, as well. I hoped to rekindle our relationship, but is it just…broken? It feels wrong. It feels as though I have done nothing wrong and I am being punished unfairly. But this is our mortal world, which is unjust and unfair, unlike Heaven where one would think we at least have counselling.”

He lifted a finger and proclaimed, and all the Painted Antinium clacked their mandibles together.

“Amen.”

Ilvriss raised a claw after a second.

“I, ah, don’t quite follow.”

Pawn shook his head.

“Forgive me, Ilvriss. I am not explaining myself properly to you after so long. Please, have some dumplings. You know that Lyonette and I were in an intimate relationship, of course—”

This time, Ilvriss spat out half his dumpling onto Holytext’s face, and the Worker picked up the piece of food, thought about it, and put it in a napkin rather than eat it because the Painted Antinium had standards. Ilvriss goggled at Pawn.

“A relationship—”

“An intimate one, yes. It is meant to be a secret but I feel that I can relate this to you, as a close friend of Lyonette and myself. But now, because of that, because of the palace, we, who were once the mainstay of the inn, are now sidelined. Much like Defender Rila during the Little Crab’s last football game against the Celum Stompers.”

Nods around the table. Ilvriss’ mind was working overtime to keep up.

“Those would be the children playing football?”

“Yes, Wall Lord. Thank you for keeping up. I just don’t understand what I’m supposed to do. About Lyonette. You are a man of many relationships. How have you navigated heartbreak and rejection?”

All the Antinium stared at Ilvriss, and he was suddenly doling out relationship advice. He thought of Periss…not the same. Ilvriss cleared his throat.

“Well, in my experience, once something ends, it’s, ah, very hard to restart, Pawn. Especially if the other party is unwilling. Dwelling on it is a rather classic way to cause a permanent rift.”

“But it is not Priest Pawn’s fault!”

One of the Painted Soldiers objected loudly, and everyone shushed him. Ilvriss nodded at him. This was actually firmer ground, giving relationship advice to Antinium. Ancestors.

“That might be so, but backing him up is only going to divide everyone, er…”

“Colorspray.”

“Colorspray, thank you. You have to step back sometimes, Pawn. It sounds like it’s still personal. And so long as it is, you’re not going to be able to talk to her like a person. Just an ex-lover. Even if it is her fault…”

Pawn was nodding unhappily.

“Much like Zel Shivertail, you have furnished me with difficult advice, Wall Lord. Thank you.”

Ilvriss really hoped his comments weren’t being put on the same level as Zel’s words. He began to try to get clarity on what intimate relationship meant—and about the [Palace of Fates] as he tried to imagine…no don’t imagine…

The Painted Antinium were grousing at the table, and Ilvriss was actually feeling like the most responsible thing he could do was get up and invite them all to a night at Wishdrinks or a bar. He wouldn’t drink, but they could grouse, get drunk, and talk out some of their grievances instead of being at the inn.

Sadly, the Wall Lord introducing the Antinium into the world of libations did not occur. Because at that moment, someone came striding into the inn.

It was none other than Courier Salamani, a regular sight in the inn given his project with Archmage Valeterisa. However, he was performing his real duties tonight, so he was at their table before Ilvriss had even processed him.

“Priest Pawn? There you are. Apologies, I’m on duty as a Courier. I have an urgent message for you and a request!”

He handed a black envelope sealed with a golden stamp to Pawn, and Ilvriss turned. Pawn took the letter and opened it.

“Is this another very unhappy statement from Roshal? Because I have had four such already, and I do not know what—oh. No. Huh. This is…”

The other Antinium leaned over his shoulder, and Ilvriss tried to see as well. Salamani was breathing hard—he noticed Ilvriss and blinked.

“Wall Lord Ilvriss?”

“Courier Salamani, how are you? Did you run here?”

“Yes, I was doing a short run when I received a priority message. I had to turn around and run here. Well, to the Runner’s Guild to have this letter transcribed, then straight here. That was, what, thirty minutes ago?”

He’d dumped a delivery to come here? Someone was paying lots of gold for that. Ilvriss whistled. He knew better than to ask for the client. Instead, he scrutinized the golden stamp. Gold and black…where did he know that motif? Then he saw what might have been a hand reaching skyward, and his eyes widened.

Wait, that sigil. But why wouldn’t he just send a [Message]?

“Oh dear. This is a serious state of affairs. But this request…”

Pawn seemed surprised as Ilvriss. He looked up, and Salamani pointed.

“If you accept, I’ve got orders to bring you as fast as I can move you. I can cast [Haste]—there’s no going south since you’re Antinium, so we’ll have to head to Invrisil. Well, yes or no?”

“This is—I do not know if I can do this, Magus Salamani. I would have appreciated time to think on it!”

Pawn was disturbed, and Ilvriss edged around the table to eye the letter. He read the golden letters, and his mouth opened.

What?

The Courier spoke softly.

“I don’t know what you read, but if you need to wait or get clarity, I can set that up. But it sounds like this is urgent, Priest Pawn. I have room for you and as many people as you need.”

Pawn looked around the room, at Ilvriss, the other Painted Antinium, and then rose. He swung around.

“I’ll ask Lyonette—”

The [Priest] stared at the [Princess], who was laughing and speaking with Zevara at the bar. Then he paused. He met Ilvriss’ gaze, and the Wall Lord recognized that expression.

Slowly, Pawn glanced down at the letter, then his mandibles lowered and clacked together.

“No. I’ll do it. There is no question that a debt is owed. So we go. Yellow Splatters, choose as many people as Salamani finds appropriate. I will notify the Free Queen.”

“You yourself, Pawn? Will she agree? I could go—”

Yellow Splatters began to protest, and Pawn shook his head.

“I will notify the Free Queen. We are the Free Antinium, and whatever Lyonette believes, we must find our own path. I feel the calling. We go.”

They were moving before even Salamani expected it; the Courier stepped back as a white-maned horse peeked in from one of the windows. Then he nodded.

“Tell me how many and I’ll get a carriage ready. I’ve got a Master Termin ready to roll once I let him know—”

They were storming out of the inn so fast that only Wall Lord Ilvriss was left. He stood there, gazing at the empty chairs and half-eaten food. And the letter.

Asgra ran up after the Antinium had gone and cursed.

“What? They eat and run? Those bastards!”

She began to shout, but Ilvriss dug in his belt pouch.

“I’m paying for them.”

“Oh? Okay. But where they go?”

Asgra spotted the letter on the table. She began to snatch it up, but Ilvriss was quicker. He picked up the letter, folded it, and tucked it into his belt pouch. Better that way with all the eyes around…he wondered if anyone had picked up on it? He debated showing it to Lyonette—and then decided it was Pawn’s decision to tell her. He turned to Asgra.

“On an adventure of sorts. Here. This is for the food, and this is a tip. Now, could you help me talk to Lyonette?”

He handed her some coins, and she blinked up at him. Ilvriss saw the Cave Goblin study the coins, then pocket them. She grinned toothily at him.

“You is tip Goblins. Sure, I help. You not bad as a guest.”

Then Ilvriss was heading back towards the party, and that was the last anyone thought of or searched for the Painted Antinium that night. Or for quite a while, actually. They weren’t major parts of the inn these days. The next time Lyonette thought about Pawn, in fact—

Well, he certainly managed to get her attention. But that was a later tale.

 

——

 

A small aside.

The departure of the [Priest] from Liscor went largely unnoticed by all, even those who were paid to observe such things. If the Antinium’s Queen knew, well, she kept her own council, and even among Liscor, it was hard to tell where any one given Antinium was.

Few noticed Pawn’s departure, and the Courier had been paid to keep it that way as well as for speed.

But someone noticed the [Priest] leaving. Someone was very relieved.

She…wasn’t happy.

She hadn’t been happy for a long, long time. Ever since her city had fallen.

Fallen. Sunk down and been damned. Yes, ever since then it had been worse. Unpleasant. All the growing, radiant shards of power had died in the darkness, with the madness, even if her control had been absolute. All the strands of…of…what was the word?

Ah, yes.

Faith. It had vanished. And then it had just been her. Waiting, waiting for the day they promised would come again.

The Mother, and her remaining servants. But the wait had been long—too long. One had rebelled. One had died. One had remained loyal, but hidden himself—until he had also perished.

And her people were no more.

So the Mother of Graves had waited, unhappy. Waited and waited until they had dug her up. But it hadn’t gone how it should have.

The seeds were there. The children…but it was an agonizing wait, and the floods she had expected weren’t coming. She had sent wave after wave of the mindless monsters and her children above, but they were stymied. Held back by the curious insects whose bodies dissolved her children stillborn.

Even so, progress was made. Progress, however slow—but they had killed her greatest servant. Killed him. Him.

That scared her, though she knew little fear. And then had come the woman who had demanded obedience. Far, far more terrible than the mere [Necromancer] who had tried to exert his power here.

The Mother did not like these things. They were familiar to her. They glowed with the power she had been promised, but never truly learned. And like them—

The [Priest] was the brightest thing in his Hive. She could see a foreign power clinging to him and coveted it. Feared it. He was a reason she moved slowly.

But he left. Left, and she thought now was a time to strike. To push. Not to unleash—not yet. There weren’t enough children anywhere. But she had servants.

Thus, arise, General of the Unhallowed Armor, those who are bound to metal shell. Prepare for an assault.

Her great general had already been marshalling his forces, sending his warriors of metal above, but he had been scouting of late. Again, there were complications. The dead not under her children’s control were…fighting his troops? Another setback.

She blamed that building. That place. It was right up there. She told him that, though her mind and his were so divergent that the way they had to communicate—her, through the lips of her children, he, in his metal tomb—meant it was confused language at best. Difficult for her to speak the words of ‘Drakes’ they had taught her.

But she told him it was that place. She sensed it too. A place where ideas seemed to grow, and rooted, strong, like the [Priest] itself. Faith of a different kind.

She still felt it from above. An idea—like a safe ground, like mercy and protection all combined into an idea.

Sanctuary. And there had been other things.

The Goblin King. The great and terrible wings of a being of true horror. A…Dragon.

She knew Dragons, though. Right now, there were so few left. So she told her general that he would prepare. Prepare to strike there, among his targets.

Soon.

A relative word, given how long she had waited. As soon as he was ready.

The Mother slept again. Waiting…she had forever to wait, since no one would know the plan or know her children were there, unseen, multiplying under their skin.

No one. So forever was to her advantage.

Uneasily, she dreamed. A foreboding feeling unknown and unpleasant to her. But soon, she would win.

Soon enough.

 

——

 

When Lyonette left the [Garden of Sanctuary], she was relieved to find no trouble in the inn.

No one had noticed her and Rose’s short conversation, thankfully, and when Lyonette turned to Rose, the young woman seemed totally Human again. She winked at Lyonette, then strode into the party, and Lyonette trusted she’d handle herself. Besides, Lyonette’s attention was drawn to the bar instantly. The party had gotten far more lively than she remembered.

“Rosencrantz, is that Zevara I see over there?”

“Yes, Lyonette. She is having a celebratory drink with others. Would you like a drink yourself?”

He was shaking two canisters of drinks with four arms. He offered her a rather tempting glass, and Lyonette wavered.

Last night’s…libations hadn’t been so bad, had they? Imani made it worse.

“Oh, that’s the coconut milk I asked for from Oteslia! If you’ve got it—it must be delivered to my restaurant! I hope Palt answered the Street Runner! I’ll have that. What is it, a bacardi?”

“I don’t think they have those, but it’s something tropical. Hit us up, Rosencrantz!”

Rose grabbed both cocktails, and they joined Kevin and Joseph. Ilvriss cautiously offered his empty wine cup.

“I could take one of those without the alcohol. Lyonette?”

“I…shouldn’t. Not after last night. I rather overdid it.”

She blushed, embarrassed, and he smiled. He indicated his own cup.

“No judgement from me.”

She’d forgotten that he had gone off drinking! Lyonette chuckled as she accepted a non-alcoholic version of the drink, which tasted peculiar, but good! It also meant she could share with Nanette and Mrsha, which was a mother’s delight.

The only alcoholic of the bunch was Apista, who got a cocktail and began sipping with her proboscis. Ten minutes later, she was flying around upside-down overhead.

Her silly, drunk bee. Ilvriss instead took a seat at a table with Lyonette, and after they’d heard a retelling of what had happened with Zevara from a fairly drunk Drassi, they all settled back, and Lyonette thought—this would be a lovely new normal.

Ilvriss hanging out, and Nerul as well. If they were so close, she felt certain she’d see more of them. And they were both good at being in the inn, if that made sense.

“Beer pong? My friends. You had me at ‘beer’.”

The Earthers minus Joseph were trying to invent a new game with the [Diplomat], who headed into the rec room. Meanwhile, Joseph ambled over and was inducted into the table of Lyonette, Ilvriss, Mrsha, Nanette, Liska, and Ishkr.

“This is a Salazsarian game. It’s called Hoardbreaker. They play versions of this in pubs and in the company of Wall Lords. I know several versions. We’ll play a simple one. No dice, just cards.”

Ilvriss had a magical deck, and he was teaching them a game. Lyonette had told him about the gambling night while sparing some details like the amounts and the players involved, so the Wall Lord had decided to teach them a game.

Instead of drinking, gambling! Huzzah! Well, Mrsha and Nanette were having a grand time, and Lyonette had to own, this was very pleasant. She was tickling Apista on her underbelly as the bee waved her legs at the ceiling.

Huh? Why am I on my back? What’s this giant hand? Wheeeee~

Her silly bee. Lyonette was just about to ask Ilvriss to include some dice so she could use [The Gambler’s Dice]. There were tons of Skills she didn’t use! Like [The Treasury of House Marquin], which was a mostly-empty closet that seemed to act like a more expansive Chest of Holding.

Ilvriss was just showing her the trump card for the first hand and grinning when Dame Ushar tapped a speaking stone in her ear. Then she bent down.

“Your Highness. Someone just teleported right in front of the inn. The [Necromancers] and Bush Shamblers tried to stop them. They’re in the hallway.”

Lyonette stood fast. Dalimont was already gone, and she cast around.

“Elia and Bird—”

“Dalimont is preparing to activate…hold. Wait, stand down, I think.”

Ushar’s eyes flickered. Lyonette stared at her, tensed, and then Ushar spoke.

“It’s a friendly. The Duke—”

And then Duke Rhisveri kicked open a side-door to the inn and stepped out of the passage that led to the secret entrance to the security hallway. He nearly stepped on Asgra.

“I said it was me. I’m in a hurry! Excuse me. Where is—aha! There you are.”

He came swanning into the inn, dressed to the gills in a lacey doublet with a terrible ruff. Black, purple, and brown boots that were expensive without style. Lyonette blinked at him, and her sudden alarm became a frown.

“Rhisveri? What’s going on?”

Had he heard that—no, he’d been told that Mrsha had come back. But he’d vanished to stop the attack on Liscor, and that was the last she’d seen of him. She owed him a greeting, but from the way he stopped and adjusted his collar, almost nervously, and licked his lips, she suspected trouble.

“Hello, who’s this?”

Ilvriss stopped dealing cards and glanced at Rhisveri with a frown. He recognized someone important on sight, and Mrsha groaned.

It’s him again. If he’s going to cry again like he did on the call, I’m leaving. I want to have fun! And the last time he gambled, he got beat up. I like him enough not to want to see that twice.

Ilvriss read the notes blankly, then turned to Rhisveri. He was clearing his throat.

“Right, there you are. I am owed a favor, and I assure you, it’s purely that. Necessity.”

“Duke Rhisveri, good evening. May I ask what brings you here?”

Lyonette was all politeness as he strode over, but the Duke was checking a miniature timepiece on his wrist. He was rather—frantic, everyone observed, and covered it with bluster.

“No time to explain, I’m afraid! Er, I, ah—you owe me a favor! So with apologies, [Greater Telep—]”

Ilvriss leapt up with a shout of alarm as he reached out and grabbed for Lyonette’s arm. She was recoiling when the two popped out of existence. No, wait, not two—

Dame Ushar had grabbed Lyonette. She vanished too as Dalimont appeared with a shout. Ilvriss spun.

“No! What kind of spell—? How did he—!”

He swivelled, aghast, to Mrsha and Nanette, and the young Gnoll girl just slapped her face with one paw. She eyed Nanette, and the witch tossed her cards down.

“We need a seventh! Someone get Bird! And Elia, I bet she could play a great card game.”

The Wall Lord gestured at the empty spot, goggling at Dalimont and the others, who were not calm, but mostly playing it up—and then he realized that despite his best efforts, it was happening again.

The inn got him.

It always did.

 

 

 

 

Author’s Note:

Hello, hello, I have a few things to announce! First, please see the plushies announcement at the top! More of our beloved cast is appearing in realspace! Well, in a certain loveable form.

Second, I have a bunch to relate from my travels abroad. As you well know, I was travelling to Iceland in a long-awaited vacation, and I took two weeks off (the last week has been me writing the chapter).

Well, I must say that Iceland is indeed a foreign landscape quite unlike anything you can find anywhere else. As a place formed out of volcanic activity, there are some unbelievable sights. I saw the black sand beaches (all the beaches are black sand), ate some delicious and expensive food, hung out with the family, saw puffins, got COVID…

I got the COVID. It turns out Iceland is a place of wonders and tourists and, right now, a den of plagues. In hindsight, I learned it’s hitting tons of places, and I certainly realized on my way back that a lot of coughs were being had in the airport, and of course, no one is masking up because everyone’s traumatized or something, and we’re all afraid of putting on masks except in Asia.

I may be upset. The disease got me about 4-5 days into the trip, though I was probably feeling it a bit earlier. I got everything. Cold symptoms, the worst fever I’ve ever had in my entire life, aches, coughing, and then I lost my sense of taste, which pretty much sealed the deal. And the brain fog…

I’m still under the brain fog. I had to cut the trip short to get back and recover, and while I saw a lot of Iceland and still felt it was a very good experience overall, I really could do without the plague. By the by—this is the first time I’ve ever caught COVID. I dodged it during the entire time it was active, dodged it in Canada, and it hit me at last.

It’s not pleasant. The worst thing is indeed the brain fog, which leaves me with symptoms of forgetfulness and distraction—like how I imagine having ADHD is like. For writing? It’s real bad news, and if I struggle with the chapters and complain a bit, well, I had a bad cold and now this.

My immune system is probably pretty weak given that I don’t go out and socialize and let people cough in my face to build it up. But two sicknesses in a row blows. At least most of the worst symptoms are gone, but it’s hung around until now, and I’m upset.

 

…Thanks for hearing me out. I felt like I needed to write that out, but I don’t mean to be a downer; I did actually get a lot of good experience out of Iceland, including plenty of ideas for the New Lands arc! I was listening to the King of Duels audiobook by our new narrator, Erin Bennett, and while I missed Andrea, I was entertained by her performance! If anyone’s listening to the audiobooks, I hope you feel the same. The interludes are great, and I think Chocolate Alchemy was one of my more fun memories from that time, though I loved writing them all.

Other fun stuff! I was playing Tak with my brother, from that popular but unfinished book series, Name of the Winds! It’s a lot more fun than playing chess (a game which I actually don’t like to play), and I quite admired how elegantly the system was set up. I’m not actually big on board games, but it was a super fun time.

What else? Well, I’m still having a house renovated that I bought, and I hope to move in before Christmas! Fingers crossed, but then I’d finally have my own place, and it’s an exciting feeling. First step would be getting a writing desk and a huge library. Who needs living rooms?

So life isn’t all that bad. I know I complain a lot because I’m often at the end of my rope, but the break was invigorating, sickness and all. When I get to full strength, you’d better watch out—this Lyonette chapter I’m splitting into two sections, but I think it’s still strong, and to quote some stream-readers, it’s ‘their favorite chapter of Volume 10’. Whether or not they lied, we’ll find out!

 

I’m still not really happy with the state of the world, but I hope things improve. And I hope you enjoy our return to The Wandering Inn! I’m still writing a storm, but please…no more sicknesses? I’m not sure whom I’m addressing here, but I’d sure appreciate a lack of that.

And uh. Alien readers. First contact and all, but imagine the new audiences with an interstellar audience! I’ve always maintained that the moment we make first contact with a friendly alien species, a lot of sci-fi books are going to get cancelled because they come across as highly xenophobic. Okay, that’s all from me. See you next chapter!

—pirateaba

 

 

Erin And Ulvama Suit Style by Artsynada!

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Ko-Fi: https://ko-fi.com/illudanajohns

 

Erin and Ulvama in Suits (wait, I’m detecting a trend here), and Sprites by onionlittle! I need a videogame!

Ko-Fi: https://ko-fi.com/littleonion

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Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/onionlittle.bsky.social

 

Erin and Ulvama in Suits by DeeDee!

 

Noiraid by Kazah!

 

Sailor Kids, Tired Nanette, Fleeing Rock Crab, and an Erin-Ulvama comic, comissioned by EvilMegaCookie, all by Chalyon!

Ko-Fi: https://ko-fi.com/chalyon

 

Never Dies by Brack!

Ko-Fi: https://ko-fi.com/brack

Twitter: https://twitter.com/Brack_Giraffe

 

Kevin and Joseph, [Detectives], by Mio, commissioned by Bookmark!

 

Rock Crab Gif and Bird with Birds by olento!

 

Rock Crab Animation by Moerchen!

 

Facestealer, Grimalkin, Noiraid, and Zevara-Columbo (I have no idea who Columbo is) by Michael Cannon!

 

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