“I’m telling you he was one of ours.” Summers explained.

Nowak sat atop the wagon, the warehouse beside them was still bustling with activity. Most of the caravan merchants had their guards hauling everything from equipment to crates of supplies back and forth. Much like Summers group, they didn’t want to stick around for what was coming.

“If he’s training elves, I don’t think he’s still with his unit. No way would the army hand out guns without some massive supervision. And you said he was alone?”

“There was a woman, don’t know about her.”

“…Either way we need to figure out what this guy’s deal is. I don’t like the idea of running blind.”

Summers considered that, while there was no doubt the guy was clearly from their world, he remembered just how many assholes he’d met in the military.

“You think he’s got an agenda?”

“Everyone’s got an agenda. Look you never really had to deal with officers, but I guarantee there’s some cutthroat motherfuckers out there. Until we know what homeboy is after, I say we lay low.”

“What about the others?”

“They’re already asleep by now.” Nowak looked to the distance. “We’ll explain things in the morning, if this guy’s everything you said then I don’t expect it’ll be hard to learn something about him. The locals practically worshipped us once they saw what we could do, and this guy’s handing out weapons.”

Summers let out a breath. He wasn’t wrong, but somehow he doubted it would be that easy.

The next morning Summers got up from his furs, he had no doubt they had a long day ahead of them.

The inn they’d found was only a few blocks away from the wagon, he glanced out the wood framed window to see a familiar face. The same young woman that was with the scarred man. She was talking with one of the caravan’s merchants.

“Shit.”

He had no idea what the woman wanted, but it was definitely something he’d have to bring up with the others.

Summers threw on clothes as quickly as he could. He got about three steps down the stairs before he saw Synel at a table in the bar. She looked to be in the middle of an argument with a much large, much angrier merchant.

“Morning. Just in time for the show.” Cortez called over.

Summers looked to see Cortez and Logan sitting with Asle, they were watching the man speaking to Synel.

It wasn’t long before the two were shouting. The last time he’d seen two elves fight like this, it had ended up with one jamming a spear into the other.

“Asle any idea what this is about?”

“He’s from the city and she’s cheating him.” Asle said, gesturing to Synel.

“Is that something you think, or you know?”

“It’s what he’s saying but it’s probably true.”

Summers had heard Synel mentioning how much more dangerous getting here had been from what she was expected or prepared for. It wouldn’t surprise him if that affected the final price for whatever goods she was selling.

“Okay…”

“Should we do something?” Logan looked to Summers.

“She’s a pro, she probably has it handed.” Summers watched as Synel stood, then slapped the man hard enough for the clap to resound through the room. “Maybe not.”

Summers walked quickly to the bar as the man recovered, as it turned out, that was a moment too slow. The man’s arm shot out to grab Synel. Summers was there a moment later, hand on the man’s head. He pushed forward, slamming his face into the hardwood bar. His unconscious body fell to the ground just a few moments later.

Synel backed up, eyes wide as the man’s limp hand fell with him. She said nothing.

It occurred to him that he might have killed the guy.

“Okay it was cute and a little hot at first but seriously...”

Summers spoke in English, head in his hand. He sat across from Synel who was still staring at him, wide eyed. Things had happened so fast that he didn’t quite realize what he’d done.

From Cortez’ account the man, who had a good 10 inches on Summers, had been hit so hard, so fast, that it looked like a blur even to her. That and the distinctly head shaped imprint in the solid wood bar was a good sign that something was wrong. Summers was strong, but he wasn’t that strong. Or that fast for that matter. Thankfully the guy had left the bar still breathing, brain damage notwithstanding.

Given all the other odd side effects he’d encountered, Summers could only assume all this had something to do with the fog, which had just fed Synel’s belief that he was, again, some kind of godling.

“Asle do not translate that.”

“What is cute?” Synel asked, speaking English herself.

She was picking up his language far too quickly for him to be comfortable.

“What is hot?” Asle asked.

“Nothing.” Summers replied. “Let’s just agree that I’m very strong. No more god thing, all right?” Summers put his hands on the table. “How about you, are things going to be okay after…” Summers tried to think of the word, “After he’s done sleeping?”

Guards had already taken the man Summers laid out long ago. Asle had, thankfully, had the foresight to steal the guy’s coinpurse, which was useful when they needed to pay for the bar Summers had dented.

“I will find another buyer.” Synel cleared her throat in an obvious attempt to hide her amusement. “And thank you.”

Summers didn’t doubt that people would be lining up for blocks for the supplies they’d brought, given how desperate the city seemed to be.

“If you’re done flirting can we get going? We got shit to do.” Cortez called over to Summers.

“Right...” Summers started up. “Sorry but we need to leave.”

Summers felt the door open behind him, and the chill winter air outside rush in.

Synel nodded just as Summers heard Cortez speak up.

“Scratch that, we have a problem. A big one.”

Summers turned to see a familiar, scarred face staring back at him from across the room. Four elves flanked him at his sides as he approached the group. They were all holding M4’s.

Summers froze in his seat.

“Well look at this.” The scarred man smiled at the group. “And what’s your name?” The man looked to Asle.

She turned her head from Summers, back to the man.

“Ah, manners. Name’s Rhodes. Arnold Rhodes.” He held out a hand to Summers.

Summers just stared back.

“Now don’t give me that shit I know you know what I’m saying. Your name is Summers, that’s Cortez, Logan, and the woman there is the caravan master for that shit that just came in.” He gestured to the men at his back. “Keep playing coy, I might stop being so polite.”

Summers watched as Rhodes’ hand gently fell atop Asle’s head.

Rhodes smiled again, the right side of his face failed to show anything, clean skin giving way to rough scar tissue.

Summers felt for the sidearm in his waistband.

“…What do you want?”

“Good. I have been talking with a few of your friends in the caravan, and they have told me some interesting things. Well full disclosure, I didn’t do the talking. I don’t know what the fuck these people speak.”

Rhodes whistled, fingers outstretched, and a man handed him a small pistol. “But I get by.” He worked the action. “Anyway, point is that there’s a lot of talk about you having some interesting weapons. I wouldn’t normally give a crap about rumors like that, merchants-” He gestured to Synel. “They talk their shit up left and right. Magic spears. Unbreakable armor. You get some gems even now and again, but it’s mostly bullshit.”

“What do you want?” Summers repeated.

“Okay, okay, you don’t want to chat. I’ll cut to the chase. I’m going to guess you got something on you that can do me harm and I want to make sure we have a nice, civil discussion. You understand that?”

Summers nodded.

“Fantastic.” Rhodes pulled out a chair beside Summers, sitting down and angling the barrel of his gun towards Synel. “Hand whatever you have, all of you, to these nice men. Don’t worry, they know what they’re doing. Won’t shoot you in the gut unless they mean to.”

Summers considered only a moment. Slowly, he reached back, unslinging his M4 and placing it into the outstretched hand at his side. Logan followed suit. Cortez just stood there, watching the man in front of her.

“Go ahead, take it off me.”

“Fucks sake. All right every time that one gives me lip, I put a bullet in that one’s kneecap.” Rhodes gestured to Cortez and Logan. “Like pulling goddamn teeth.”

Cortez watched Rhodes for a moment before she relented, unslinging the rifle from her back.

Rhodes gestured at the group with his gun. “All of it. Come on don’t hold out on me.”

Summers handed over his sidearm, two knives, and a grenade.

Rhodes just smiled at the sight of the last one.

“Was that so fucking hard? Christ act like I’m robbing you.”

Summers placed his hands back on the table, watching the gun.

“Right.” Rhodes tucked the pistol into the back of his waistband. “Anyway, I’m sorry to get off on the wrong foot like this. You gotta understand I can’t be taking chances.”

“… Are you with the army?” Summers looked at Rhodes incredulously.

“Do they look like soldiers to you?” Rhodes gestured to the men beside Summers.

Asle shifted beside him, she was already reaching for the holster at her thigh. Summers put a hand on her shoulder to stop her.

“To answer your question, I consider myself to be on leave. Now there were four of you on that wagon, not counting half pint here. Where’s the last one?”

“Look we don’t want any trouble.” Logan held his hands above his head. “We’re just here to resupply.”

Rhodes brushed Asle’s hair out of the way, looking at her pointed ears. “Good. She’s not any of yours, right?”

Asle slapped his hand away.

“Shit. All right fair enough.” Rhodes held up his hand in mock surrender. “So, where’s that last man? Don’t make me ask a third time.”

Summers hesitated.

Rhodes sighed before he stood, grabbed Summers by the collar, and threw him towards the door.

Summers cursed under his breath, recovering before he even hit the ground. When he looked up, he saw Rhodes standing there, holding a gun to Asle’s head.

“Look out the window. And think real hard about the next words out of your mouth.”

Summers stared at the man moment before looking away, out to the street.

There had to be nearly fifty guards watching the building, some stood on rooftops. Each had gun in their hands.

Summers gritted his teeth.

“…He’s guarding the wagon.”

Rhodes gestured to one of his guards. “In. The. Wagon, you got that?”

The guard nodded.

“Goddamn language barrier.” Rhodes watched the guard leave. “I had to teach them nodding too. Ridiculous. Hell, when your girl here waved to me, I nearly shit myself. Would have written off as a coincidence if every new face wasn’t talking about you.”

“Look.” Summers started, “I don’t know what you think we are, but we’re just trying to get back home.”

“Home?” Rhodes’ smile only widened. “Maybe it’s my ego talking, but I kind of expected you’d be here for me.”

“…If we were, do you think we’d bring four men, and a girl?” Logan replied.

“…Fair enough.” Rhodes looked at Synel, she was staring wide eyed at him. “More than fair.”

Cortez started to say something but stopped as Rhodes glanced in her direction.

“I was just fucking with you sweetie, go ahead and talk.”

“Go fuck yourself.” Cortez replied.

Rhodes’ smile only widened. “I got people for that.”

Nowak stood atop the wagon, it was a quiet night out, one that he was glad for. Even with the bustle of the merchant’s porters, they were still keeping a healthy distance from him. That suited him just fine, it made his job easier and ensured they didn’t have issues.

“Hello.” A woman’s voice caught Nowak’s attention.

She was speaking English.

Nowak turned to find a young woman staring up at him. She had her hands clasped in front of her, but she looked as though she was staring him down.

“…Hi?” Nowak responded, unsure of what was happening.

The woman bowed.

“Apologies, but I’m here to claim your cargo. Thirty men will be here shortly, I wished to inform you that your friends will die should you resist.” She bowed a second time. “Again, I apologize.”

Nowak walked in a few minutes later. A young woman stood beside him. Summers recognized her as the same woman that had been beside Rhodes.

“Finally.” Rhodes gestured to the woman. “This is Nisha, she’s my translator. I will ask you to treat her with the respect you would show me.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” Nisha bowed before turning to Rhodes. “Several dozen rifles, ammunition, fragmentation and nonlethal grenades along with standard issue equipment and a few electronic devices.”

Summers understood immediately, that was everything they had in their wagon.

Rhodes just beamed in response.

“Fantastic. Now then, you had guns. Those guns are now my guns. Any questions? Concerns?” Rhodes looked to the group. They said nothing. “Great. Now with that unpleasant business out of the way, how can I help a fellow American?”