The dwarven caravan left the day after the Inquisitors had visited. She was going to miss Micah and Opal, but they had to move around for a living. At least Buttercup kept her company whenever she was doing chores outside. Even though she couldn’t understand her, she concluded that Buttercup was quite sassy. She sounded sassy at least.

Today, there was no laundry to do, so Celeste elected to stay in the cabin and do some dusting. It was clear that Rusty hadn’t done that particular chore in a while. Fortunately, the only bad places were on top of tall furniture, so she didn’t have too much work. The logistics were a bit tricky with reaching, but standing on top of a chair soon solved that problem.

She was balancing and dusting the top of the cabinet when someone knocked on the door. Perhaps the Inquisitors were back. They said they would be, though Rusty acted like they wouldn’t show. She got off her chair and went to the door. But before she could say anything, the visitor said something.

“Rusty, I’m here for our game! And I brought what I said I would.”

That wasn’t an Inquisitor’s voice. For one thing, it was a woman’s. She supposed she could be an inquisitor, but they probably wouldn’t be playing a game with Rusty, seeing that he didn’t seem to be fond of them hanging around. She knocked on the door again.

“Are you there?”

Celeste elected to not answer the door, just in case. If this was someone who was a friend of Rusty’s they probably knew if he didn’t answer, he was most likely in the smithy. The woman seemed to come to the same conclusion because the knocking stopped. Celeste continued dusting.

A few minutes later, Rusty came in with a woman. She was a foreigner, that much Celeste could tell. Celeste saw them occasionally, but Feon was never a kingdom that traded with other human kingdoms, mostly because they were landlocked and one would have to travel through the Badlands to reach the closest one. It just wasn’t worth the trip for either party. She wasn’t sure if this woman was from that kingdom or not.

“Celeste, I want you to meet my good friend Glyda. Once a month, we play a game or two of Bosses and Workers without fail.”

Glyda didn’t offer her hand, but she did smile and greet her.

“I never thought Rusty would ever take on a tenant. Let me guess, he stuffed you in the shed.”

“It’s not too bad once you move things around,” Celeste assured her. She wondered if she had heard the rumors about her. “What do you do for a living, Ms. Glyda?”

“Just Glyda, please.” She went and sat at the table while Rusty got out the pieces for the game. In her experiences, dwarves loved the game and it seemed Rusty had inherited that love. “I work in the Reviver camp. If I told you my actual job, I’d have to skill you.”

Celeste stared at the woman. Her face was expressionless and the dagger by her side made her think that it wasn’t an empty threat. Rusty shook his head and rolled his eyes.

“No, she wouldn’t. She’s head of intelligence for the Revivers. Everyone knows this.”

Glyda let out a sigh as he set up the game. “You never let me have any fun, Rusty. It ruins the joke if you give away the punch line prematurely.”

“I wouldn’t if the joke was funny. Besides, we just had a visit from a couple of Inquisitors, so things are all a little tense around here.”

Celeste frowned a bit. He was right, it wasn’t a funny joke. And if she was head of intelligence, she doubted she came here for just a social visit. No doubt they caught word that Inquisitors had visited and had sent people of their own to investigate the situation. Despite her friendliness, Celeste knew she was hiding something.

“So where did you come from, Celeste? I’ve certainly never seen you around Reviver camp and you don’t seem to fit the description of a Renewer.” She asked as she leaned back in her chair.

Rusty had his hand on his chin, trying to figure out what move to make. A game of Bosses and Miners could easily last for hours if both opponents were pretty good at it, which was why it had been banned from Madame Bustier’s shop. She didn’t mind dwarves, but that didn’t mean she wanted them loitering around her shop for hours like it was a tavern of some type.

“I grew up among the dwarves. My parents fled from the civil war when I was very young and went to the Badlands. Then they died, my father of an accident and my mother of a plague a few years later. The dwarves were kind enough to take care of me until I was old enough to be out on my own.”

Celeste didn’t even believe the words coming out of her mouth. The story would probably be decent, but she doubted that Glyda would believe it. It was hard to come up with a convincing lie when one wasn’t used to lying in the first place. Nonetheless, Glyda seemed to humor her by nodding along.

“I see, I see. So they sent you to Rusty to help you adjust? Not a bad idea.” She remarked as Rusty finally moved a piece forward. “Why come back to humans though? I’m sure the elves are much more stable at the moment. I know they can be a bit standoffish and judgemental, but once you get through to them, they aren’t so bad. They just have to be careful. They may be nigh immortal, but they’re pretty fragile.”

“Because I’m not fond of heights.” While not completely true, Celeste couldn’t see herself not living on the ground. The elven forest was a nice place to visit, but she would never be happy living there.

“Fair enough.” Glyda moved one of her pieces forward. “Are you going to join one of the two large camps or one of the smaller ones? There’s plenty of those and as long as you aren’t married, you would be accepted by the Sisterhood.”

“Sisterhood?” There was yet another named camp? She might have to start keeping a list with the rest of her diary. “Who are they?”

“Probably the only truly neutral camp around,” Glyda explained as she turned in her chair slightly. “They only allow women to live at their camp, so it’s very safe. And they train a few in the art of combat so no one messes with them. If anything, they might help you out, even if you decided not to stay.”

A camp of entirely women did not sound appealing. She was sure there was a bit more to it than that. It seemed like all the camps had complexity to them.

“Thank you for your suggestion. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“If ever want me to, I can introduce you to the leader. She comes to the Reviver camp to visit Orsic a lot, so I know her pretty well.”

“I think she’s happy staying here for now,” Rusty told her as he placed a finger on a piece before deciding that it wasn’t a piece he wanted to move. “She’s even made friends with the local river goblins.”

“What’s Orsic like?” Celeste asked. “I’ve heard more about Davik than him. I concluded it was because Rusty’s place is a little closer to Renewer camp than Reviver camp.”

“Orsic’s not near as public as Davik, so that’s probably another reason. Sometimes you forget he’s there.” Glyda explained before yawning. She thought Rusty was taking way too long to move a singular piece. “Well, I don’t since I report directly to him along with a few others. But if you’re low enough in the ranks or a civilian, you’ll only see him out and about once and a great while. Though I didn’t answer your question about his personality, did I? Maybe you’ll have to go find out for yourself.”

She should’ve known that someone like an intelligence officer would try to pull something like that. Derrick had been right about people in intelligence. You couldn’t even tell what their motivations were. Still, she preferred Glyda to the two Inquisitors. At least she seemed like a normal person. Celeste headed to the door.

“I’ll let you two get back to your game. I don’t want to distract you.”

Neither moved to stop her or commented on her exit. Maybe she had been distracting them from the game and they didn’t tell her. But she had never been fond of Bosses and Miners anyways. The game was much too slow-paced and she couldn’t think that far ahead of her opponent. It was odd that dwarves like it so much. They weren’t known to be that strategic in other things.

She was crossing the small area of land between the cabin and the shed when a sound made her stop in her tracks. Celeste looked around, wondering if someone else had come to visit Rusty. If they did, hopefully, it was a Reviver or neutral party and not a Renewer. Something told her that outside of camp, Glyda would be a high profile target. But she saw no one there.

“Buttercup, is that you trying to scare me again?”

While they were on good terms, Buttercup would sometimes jump out of the bushes to give her a scare. Fortunately, it was never as bad as the first time they had met. And after Celeste stopped her heart from jumping out of her chest, Buttercup would just snicker and they’d do the laundry.

There was no reply, goblin or not. Celeste took one more look and went onto the shed. She opened the door to the shed and found that things had been moved around. The box that she kept her diary in was opened with said diary gone. The goblin book was still there though.

She held back the only curse she knew as she rushed in and moved things aside, hoping that maybe she had just misplaced it or whoever had broken in threw it to the side once they learned it wasn’t anything valuable. But she had no such luck in locating her missing item. Who would want to steal her diary and nothing else? Even a couple of the dresses Opal had given here were worth more than her diary. Maybe the river goblins had seen something…

Then something came over her head and she was kicked in the back of the knees, causing her to crash into them and the cot, nearly knocking it over. Her hands scrambled at the area where she felt the sack tightened, but whoever was doing this to her kept a tight grip. Thanks to the sack, she couldn’t even see her attacker or where they were. If she was able to stand, she could launch herself into them. But thanks to the kneeling position she was being held in, she couldn't get the proper leverage. Her attacker didn’t do anything with her hands, which was odd.

“Stay still.” The command was muffled, but Celeste managed to make it out. Seeing how she was at a total disadvantage, she obeyed the command. Even if she yelled out, she wasn’t sure anyone would hear her. The sack was jerked back a little to get her attention.

“I will leave and you will not follow.” The voice started again. “Understand?”

She nodded, hoping the was clear with the sack on her head. It worked as she felt the person back off. Celeste waited a couple of moments to remove the sack, just in case they had lingered. They didn’t and there was no sign that anyone had even been there. Where had they been hiding? There was nowhere to hide in that shed.

But she didn’t put much thought into it as she ran back into the cabin and slammed open the door. The piece Rusty was moving slipped out of his grip and went flying across the room. He put a hand on his chest.

“Don’t scare me like that, lass.” He pleaded. “I’m not that old, but still…”

“I’ve been robbed! Someone stole my diary!” Yes, it sounded stupid, but her diary had been a place for her to gather her thoughts and now it was in someone else's possession, a stranger.

“Your diary?” Glyda asked. “Did you see the thief?”

“No, they put a sack on my head and then forced me to wait to take it off until they were gone.”

Glyda let out a growl, startling Celeste a little bit. She never knew something so hateful sounding could come from someone so friendly. “So she’s been ordered to make a move.” The intelligence officer then turned to Celeste. “You just had a run-in with Andra, my opposite on the Renewer side. If she’s pilfering your diary, that means you’ll probably be getting a summons within the next few days.”

“Do you need to go after her?” Rusty asked as he retrieved the piece. “See if you can’t retrieve it?”

“Andra’s no doubt long gone by now. If I had seen her do it, maybe. But not now.” She sighed. “Just be on guard around any Renewers or any goblins sent by them. Probably not a problem for you, seeing how you’re so distant from me.”

All Celeste could do was nod. She left them to their game and started to put everything back in place, including the box. She told herself not to cry over a stupid dairy, but she couldn’t help herself. The one thing that was hers and someone had stolen it, just like her future had been stolen from her.