In the late afternoon, the lodge bustled with activity. Groups of hunters chatted as they cared for their weapons and tools. The murmur of conversation was punctuated by the twang of bowstrings from the courtyard behind the lodge. The place smelled of oil, iron, blood, and guts.

Two of the butchering tables were occupied. On one, a deer was getting skinned. On the other, three badgers were laid out, their fur streaked orange and red, like the paint job on an old hot rod, flames coursing down the car’s body.

Nearby, two hunters applied salve and bandages to the burns on a third’s arms. Inneioleia stood behind the injured man, hand on his back, the tickle of qi moving between them.

Borba, the ordinary hunter I’d trained with that morning, spotted my arrival and waved me over. He had me listen in on his team's plans for tomorrow. They didn’t have any luck hunting today and were hoping the elk territories to the north would be more productive.

When the shop talk was done, they switched to gossip. Of course, the big news was about the events at Fort Sugar Shack, and Borba’s team pressed me for the details. They had the bare bones of the story already, but somehow, a flock of cutter hawks got added into it.

Apparently, a flock of the small birds (think aerial piranha) could strip a man to his bones in minutes. They were supposedly impossible to fight off, and the only viable responses were to hide, run, or cast a wide-area magic. Fortunately, there wasn’t any evidence of cutter hawks near Fort Sugar Shack, and I let the hunters know that the rumor was unfounded.

I also asked about Bindesei’s reputation in town. It was Borba who responded.

“He was always a sour man. How he could make such sweet things was always a mystery. His only love was for his Family, and when they died, his heart died with them.”

I was on the hunt for a motive, so I had to ask the obvious question. “Did he have any enemies or anyone he argued with before he was murdered?”

“No one saw him enough for that,” Borba said. “He hid himself away most of the year and only came to the village to sell his maple sugar.”

“The sugar’s so expensive,” I said. “He must’ve been wealthy.”

Borba laughed. “Of course! And yet he was such a miser! He never came to the lodge for meat or hides.”

“Then if someone was hungry for his wealth?”

“Their stomach would stay empty,” Borba said. “Bindesei lived in the forest--in how many places could he hide his fortune? No one in Voorhei would be so foolish as to try to rob him.”

“What about bandits then? Or someone from outside of Voorhei?” I asked.

“You really are a little pot of questions, aren’t you?” Borba said, laughing.

His team laughed with him. My hair got ruffled, and someone handed me a strip of salty-sweet jerky. The meat was super-tough, but surprisingly delicious. I sucked on it like a jawbreaker.

Borba grinned to see me indulged. “To answer your question, Little Pot--a bandit wouldn't care about hiding the tracks of their crime. They would kill, plunder, and move on.”

That was right--there was another body, one that the murderer took pains to disguise. “Do you think the other body belongs to Grunthen?”

“I can’t imagine it,” Borba said. “Grunthen was many things, but weak wasn’t one of them. None of the element-touched are.”

Our conversation was interrupted when all the apprentices were called to the butchering table with the badgers. The hunters wanted to show us the animals’ interiors.

The carcasses looked ordinary without their fur, but the hunters pointed to the thickened bones, the sharper-than-expected claws, and the unusual sac in their chests. The hunters gently pried the sacs loose and set each within their own metal lockbox.

Borba came up beside me to whisper that each fire badger sac was worth between two and four eltaak. The oil inside was apparently a useful alchemical ingredient. As a demonstration, a hunter set a flaming rush against a single drop of the oil, and it burst into flame. The hunter explained that the fire badgers used mana-magic to cast a flamethrower-like spell, and the oil not only enhanced the spell but also caused the fire to stick to its prey.

Borba was quite envious of the other hunters’ haul. The fire badgers could easily sell for half an antaak each. There was the oil sac, of course, but also the fur was thick and luxurious, the meat delicious, and a broth made from the bones supposedly helped a man’s virility.

I was deeply curious to see if I could find a spell rune inside the fire badgers’ carcasses, but when I asked about buying the meat and bones, I was told that they’d already been claimed. I also learned that, “It was much too early for me to desire such things.” There was a good deal of healthy laughter at that.

The show over, the apprentices drifted back to what they’d been doing before. I was hanging out with Borba’s crew again, when Mulallamu tapped me on the shoulder.

“Hello, Little Pot. I see you are asking more questions. Did these scoundrels at least show you the fire badger’s breath oil first?”

“They did, thanks. I’ll be sure to avoid getting sprayed if I ever find one.”

“Good, good. You are such a clever pot. Most apprentices only think of the taak. They don’t learn to fear the fire until after they’ve been burned.” Mulallamu nodded to Borba’s crew, and they made space for her to join the circle. “Now, let me guess. You are talking about Bindesei the Sugar Maker.”

The hunters laughed, not at all embarrassed to be caught gossiping. If anything, they were anxious to hear Mulallamu’s opinion on the matter.

“He was robbed,” she said. “He was so rich! What else could it be?”

“But what about the other body?” I asked. “If it was Grunthen--”

“It was an accomplice,” Mulallamu said, “but the thief decided they no longer wanted to share the treasure, and so they killed him too.”

“But why use Cleansing Fire then?” Borba asked.

Mulallamu chuckled. “What? I have to answer you too? Isn’t one little pot full of questions enough?” She shook her head, smiling. “Truthfully, I don’t know why the murderer used Cleansing Fire. Perhaps the accomplice was someone known. Our Eight thinks it was Grunthen. Does anyone know if he needed taak?”

“None of the Touched are in want of taak,” a hunter said, grumbling.

“A truth if there ever was one,” Borba said.

A dreamy look came over Mulallamu’s face. “If only I were element-touched.”

Borba sputtered in laughter. “Touched? You are Scout Born already. If you were Touched too, the Heavens would curse you for your good fortune. Our Inneioleia could finally retire as Lodge Master.”

“What are you saying?” Mulallamu said, protesting. “A Lodge Master should be old and gray with wisdom. I am still young, with many bountiful years ahead of me.”

Unbeknownst to her, Inneioleia had finished with the injured hunter and came up behind her. “Really now, am I so feeble that my spear shakes? Can I no longer hunt?”

Mulallamu's face scrunched up in dismay. “Lodge Master, we were just joking--”

Inneioleia’s face was stern. One had to look very closely to see the amusement hidden deep within his eyes. “Take up your spear, Mulallamu. Let us see how far you have traveled on your path.”

The whole lodge went quiet, but there were smiles on every face except for Mulallamu’s. She glared at the other hunters as she picked up her spear to follow the Lodge Master outside. The rest of us piled after her.

We gathered in a circle around the two hunters. Bets were being placed right and left. They all expected Inneioleia to win; the only question was how long Mulallamu would last.

Mulallamu the Hunter (Human) Talents: Scout-Born, Tracker, Wild Sense

Nascent: One with the Land, ???, ???, ???

versus

Inneioleia the Hunter’s Lodge Master (Human, Dawn) Talents: Wood Wise, Keen-Eyed, Spear Friend, Bear Bane, Survivor

Nascent: Tricksy, ???, ???

They stood opposite each other on the hard-packed earth. Mulallamu carried her spear in two hands and waited for Inneioleia to attach his shield prosthetic. Her earlier dismay was gone and was replaced by an intense focus. I could almost feel the sharpness of her intent, like a spear’s point.

When Inneioleia nodded to show he was ready, Mulallamu disappeared. All that was left was a puff of dust where her feet had been. I threw qi and mana at my eyes, but barely caught a glimpse of her dashing straight at the Lodge Master. Qi spun to pierce through his defense, but the attack was harmlessly deflected away. Except Mulallamu was now attacking from the side.

The first attack was a mirage--she’d flickered to the left before it landed and sent the qi on without her. The real strike came, but again Inneioleia deflected it, this time with a subtle gesture of his spear. Her spear knocked out of line, Mulallamu vanished before Inneioleia could counterattack.

“That’s one,” Borba whispered.

I caught sight of Mulallamu behind Inneioleia. Dust billowed across the ground--she must’ve rolled into position. Her spear rose as if from the earth to attack low. She forewent Spiral Pierce, but Inneioleia still knew she was there, that an attack was coming.

He leapt into the air, turning the jump into a somersault, and the somersault into an attack with his spear pointed at Mulallamu’s back below him. Her attack foiled, she extended her leap forward into a roll, her spear tucked close.

“Two,” Borba said.

It took a breath for the hunters to reposition, and then Mulallamu was gone again. This time, I spotted her blending with the land, her body in dynamic motion, her hair undulating like the wind. My eyes wanted to slide past, but I willed them to stick.

The butt of her spear rose to knock Inneioleia’s spear aside, but the Lodge Master was already moving, stepping forward into her range. His shield pushed her spear aside, and his leg rose in a stomp kick. With an incredible contortion, Mulallamu twisted to the side.

“Three,” Borba said, excited.

But Mulallamu was mid-step, her spear out of position, while Inneioleia was close, within arm’s reach. It was perfect positioning for his one-handed grip, and he jabbed his spear into her torso.

“Ah, well,” Borba said, disappointed. “Three is the direction of five.”

All around us, the hunters groaned or cheered depending on how they’d gambled. The dust settled, and Mulallamu rubbed her side where Inneioleia had jabbed her.

“You didn’t have to hit so hard.”

“And would you remember if I didn’t? How many times have I told you--yes, you are fast and agile--but the closer you are to your prey, the smaller those advantages become. Distance. You must master distance; to naturally find and hold the space that lets you use your most powerful attacks against your prey, while limiting your prey’s most powerful attacks against you.”

“Yes, Master,” Mulallamu said, admonished.

“And so you have all seen,” Inneioleia said to the gathered hunters, “that our Mulallamu has yet again failed to fulfill her promise. We are all free to call her Little Mumu for the next ten days.”

Mulallamu grit her teeth but didn’t gainsay the Lodge Master.

“Don’t worry, Little Mumu,” a hunter said. “You’ll do better next time.”

“Three was an excellent showing, Little Mumu.”

“Our Little Mumu is growing so fast. One day, she’ll last ten rounds for sure.”

With a growl, Mullalla--Little Mumu left the scene. “You are all children!”

Borba clapped me on the shoulder and turned me to face him. “Little Eight, whatever you do in your life, heed this advice well: Never let the Lodge Master overhear you promising that you will one day overcome him. And never ever make a bet with him about it.”

So this was a long standing arrangement? That was good to know. I would’ve felt bad if Little Mumu was genuinely upset. Probably. Maybe.

Anyway, I was no dummy and recognized good advice when I heard it. Borba and I nodded to each other in mutual understanding and went back inside. At the lodge’s front door, I saw Haoleise consoling Little Mumu. He’d just arrived, and she was explaining what had happened. When she started to narrate the events of the fight, I dashed over to listen.

They noted my arrival, but other than a friendly ruffle of my hair from Haoleise, their conversation continued. If anything, Mumu went into greater detail for my benefit, explaining her thinking at each step.

Well, at the speed at which they’d fought, there was very little room for thinking. It was more an amalgamation of action, instinct, and training. Still, it was interesting to hear her perspective on the fight.

She’d used Dog’s Agility, Spiral Pierce, and later One with the Land. And yes, that was the name of the Spell, as well as her nascent Talent. When I first heard about it, goosebumps rose all along my arms. Some things held true no matter the world you were in.

As for Inneioleia, he only used Dog’s Agility to keep up with her speed. The rest was Skill, Talent, and experience.

“Could you force your way past his shield?” I asked. “It’s your two hands against his one.”

Haoleise shook his head. “He didn’t use it this time, but the Lodge Master has Bear’s Strength.”

Mumu scowled. “He can use Bear’s Strength, Dog’s Agility, Iron Heart, Spiral Pierce, Nature’s Spring, and Body Burner.”

“I don’t know Body Burner,” I said.

“It’s an advanced qi spell that drains the body’s power to fuel other qi spells,” Haoleise said.

“A handful of the older hunters have it,” Mumu said. “They’re known as the Last Line.”

“Oh,” I said. There was weight and responsibility attached to the name, and a certain desperation too.

Mumu turned somber. “Maybe I should join the Land Knight’s soldiers after all. My spear is too weak. If I go and return with a stronger spear, the lodge would benefit.”

Haoleise didn’t seem surprised by her idea. Instead he gazed at her thoughtfully. “A person chooses their own path--that is the way--but there are other options to grow your spear. Not all require that you leave Voorhei.”

“You just don’t want me to leave,” Mumu said.

“That’s true,” Haoleise said. “But Dena and I would wait for you if necessary. You know that. No, I am thinking about what’s best for your spear. The way soldiers fight is different than the way hunters fight.”

“But where else would I find a spear stronger than Inneioleia’s? He’s a Spear Friend for Heaven’s sake.”

Haoleise’s gaze deepened. He waited patiently for the point to land on its own.

When it did, Mumu punched him on the shoulder. “I hate when you are like this. So smug. Yes, yes, I understand. If Inneioleia is the best teacher, then it’s a matter of the student training harder.”

“So what will you do?” Haoleise asked, clearly suppressing a smile.

“Stay,” Mumu said. “For now. Until some smug excuse of a hunter angers me into joining the Land Knight’s soldiers.”

“Then let us hope that never happens,” Haoleise said.

“It’s inevitable,” Mumu said, shaking her head in mock sadness. “For some, they cannot help being smug. It is a critical failure of their character.”

“And yet there are those who still love them,” Haoleise said.

“Which I will never understand,” Mumu said. “Dena is far too good for you.”

“Speaking of,” Haoleise said. “Will you join us for dinner tonight? She has a gift for you.”

“A gift you say,” Mumu said, making a show of thinking about it. “If it’s from Dena, then I will accept.”

The two of them were so lost in their flirting that they completely forgot about me. They left me standing there without a word.

I went back to sit with Borba’s crew. “Who’s Dena?”

“Deneela. You met her at your initiation. She’s Haol’s wife.” Borba grinned. “They’re courting our Little Mumu.”

“And doing well at it from the looks of things,” a hunter said.

“I bet they’ll marry in the fall,” another said. “Within fifteen tendays.”

“I’ll take that bet for two taak,” a hunter said.

“As will I,” another replied. “Mumu and Haol are patient hunters. They’ll wait until they're ready, which to my mind means at least seventeen tendays.”

The hunters clamored and argued, their gossip having shifted to the love lives of Mumu and Haoleise.

“Seems to me,” Borba said, “that we have a member of Mumu’s team here with us. What do you think, Little Pot? When will they marry?”

As if I was supposed to know. But, well, if I had to guess…there was a tingling, a nudge from a Skill called Relationships. There was affection in Mulallamu’s eyes, but also determination.

“She won’t marry this year. Not yet. Our Little Mumu has something to prove.”

The hunters roared with laughter when I called her Our Little Mumu, but otherwise ignored my prediction. I was just a child after all.

###

I stuck around the lodge until the light started to slant through the open door. One by one and in small groups the hunters departed until there was only me and Inneioleia left. The quiet was a marked contrast to the boisterous chatter from earlier. The only sound came from the scribbling of Inneioleia’s quill. He sat at his desk tallying the day’s results.

His back was straight, but he paused often. When I came around to ask him the questions I’d been saving, I saw that he was rubbing his eyes. He looked tired; his straight spine masked shoulders that slumped slightly forward.

He picked up his quill to continue writing in the lodge’s ledger. Without looking my way, he said. “So what questions does our Little Pot hold for me?”

“Are you sure it’s okay for me to ask? It’s been a long day.”

“For both of us,” Inneioleia said, “and yet here you are, ready to learn. Isn’t it my responsibility to teach?”

“Not at the cost of your health,” I said.

Inneioleia turned to look at me. “It is as if the forest gave you wisdom instead of taking your life. It makes an old hunter wonder.” He re-started writing. “The sooner your questions are answered, the sooner we can both rest for the night.”

I hesitated, but decided to keep him company, at least until he was done with the ledger. A few questions while he worked wouldn’t hurt.

“I was wondering about Grunthen,” I said. “I asked around, and...he wasn’t very well liked, was he?”

Inneioleia paused to sigh. “And neither was Woldec. It comes from being element-touched, you see.”

“People were jealous of their power?”

“Some, yes, but--” Inneioleia paused to consider his answer. “The element-touched are born with a Talent for power. They start farther along the path than the rest of us, and they grow up believing in their superiority. Do you know that word? They grow up believing their teeth are strong enough to break rocks.” Inneioloeia shook his head. “And often enough it is true, especially if the Talent is passed down from generation to generation.”

Inneioloeia gestured outside the lodge. “Voorhei’s walls were made so tall, because we had an Earth-Touched Family. The tunnels under our pyramid are so extensive for the same reason.”

“Woldec’s Family?”

“Yes, but now Woldec and his son are gone, and there is no one left in the Family with the Talent.”

“What about his brother Ghitha?”

“Ghitha is the last of their line and cannot make children. He has tried many times and spent many taak to no avail.”

“And Grunthen?”

“He was the first of his Family to be Lightning-Touched. They were the poorest of the poor and suddenly became wealthy. Now, they are somewhere in between until he returns.”

I tried to assemble everything I’d heard into a portrait of the two men. “So Woldec and Grunthen threw their weight around.”

Inneioleia snorted. “What an interesting expression. Yes, they knew the village depended on their strength during the darkest days.” A bitter smile crossed his face. “I cannot tell you the number of times Ghitha argued that his brother Woldec should be the Lodge Master. In his eyes, Woldec was the answer to all problems.”

“Did Grunthen feel the same way?”

“Grunthen only thought about Grunthen. He cared for two things: taak and the admiration of others. As his power grew, his character shrank. ” Inneioleia shook his head sadly. “I failed him as a teacher.”

“But I heard that he didn’t want for money.”

“Taak flowed to Grunthen like water, and he let it flow away just as easily, spending it as if it was endless. And perhaps, for him, it was. With lightning in his hands, he could safely hunt almost any beast in the forest.”

“But not the Lightning Bear.”

“No, not the King of the Forest.” Inneioleia looked down with regret to where his left hand was missing. “The hunts for that one have all ended in failure. But Woldec and Grunthen believed that their power made them clever. They must’ve thought they could sneak past while he slept, although for what reason they risked such a thing, only the Heavens know.”

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. I knew that Woldec had a map to the Red Room, the cave full of eilesheile. I kept the information to myself though, as I hoped the tasty lichen would make for a valuable trade good.

“So you think Grunthen died to the bear,” I said. “That it’s not his body we found at Bindesei’s house.”

“Let me ask you a question, Little Pot. Why would he be there?”

“You said he wanted money. Bindesei had a lot of it hidden away.”

“And however much that was, Woldec offered him more to join his venture. Grunthen never said how much, but many of us heard his bragging; saying how he was rich and about to become even richer. He even pledged to purchase property in Albei and turn his Family from farmers into merchants.” Inneioleia stroked his beard, considering. “No, Grunthen was a weak man, but no murderer. He was greedy, but not a thief.”

The eilesheile really must be worth a lot then. Maybe even worth killing for.

“You’ve given me a lot to think about,” I said.

“Such is my purpose; to teach and show the path.” Inneioleia put down his quill and blotted the ledger’s pages before closing the book. “And now I am done. It is time for us both to rest.”

“Thank you, Lodge Master. Good night.”

“Good night, Little Pot. Be sure to come at dawn for your next round of training.”

###

That night, as had become my habit, I lay in bed reflecting on the day. I was bone tired though, and my thoughts wandered higgledy-piggledy. It was hard to focus, but I held on to wakefulness anyway.

I was uneasy about Bindesei’s ghost visiting again. At the same time, I hoped he would. He wouldn’t be able to talk thanks to Tenna’s Gift, but I figured to at least get confirmation that it was Grunthen who’d been killed at his house.

Bindesei didn’t show up. Instead, the uekisheile occupied my thoughts. Dog’s Agility-was-so/cool. It-was-all/whoosh/whoosh.

I had some lingering guilt from our spat yesterday, but it didn’t seem to affect the uekisheile. Both Inneioleia and Mulallamu were skilled, I thought.

We-sensed. Mumu-was-vigorous/and/bendy. Inneioleia-was-tough/but/subtle. We-would/love-to/be-inside/them-to/sense-the/qi/flow.

But--

A flicker of annoyance rippled through the uekisheile’s qi. We-understand-the/danger. You/we-have/taught-us-the/importance-of-remaining/hidden. You/we-have/taught-us-the/difference-between-desire/and/action. Trust-us-to/learn. We-are-hungry/to/learn.

Sorry, I’m a natural worrier. It’s what made me a good film producer.

We-wish-we/could/see. Would-like-to/watch/film.

The closest things to them now are Ikfael’s water stories.

A breath of qi sighed out of the uekisheile. Cannot/sense-mana-yet/either.

Keep trying, little buddy. It’s just a matter of time and practice.

I swear I felt a sly impulse. Yes-yes-practice. Practice-is-good/and/important. Speaking-of-practice we-should-study the/fight-betweeen/Mumu/and/Inneioleia-tonight. You/we-give-permission?

Yes, I thought, and that was the last thing I remembered from that night.