Hunting down Parth took quite some time, especially with her injuries slowing her down, and the other elves being respectfully reticent about telling her anything, bowing and scraping a lot, without understanding her, or avoiding her. She finally found Parth outside, in one of the glades, with Fionarasa and Cerondyari, and an elaborately-dressed man, discussing something in elven. They went silent as she made her way over, staring at her with blank expression.

‘Parth, you got some time? You’ve been pretty hard to find.’

From the flat look Fionarasa was giving her, that seemed it might be entirely deliberate. After a long pause, Parth nodded. ‘Yes.’ The others stood, moving to a discreet distance.

‘So, what’s going on now? I think we saved the day, right – the dragon killed the banshee, this place isn’t disintegrating, everything’s good?’

Parth nodded. ‘Yes.’

‘So, are you going to stay here? Is that guy your fiancée?’ He hadn’t been bad-looking, in a skinny, elven way, although could do with some muscle.

‘A choice. And maybe.’

‘He’s maybe your fiancée? How does that work?’

Parth took a deep breath, sighing heavily. ‘Complicated. A binding must be made before congress. A pact made, to be discharged. Much has changed, since the Empire. The remnant may struggle to adjust. A binding pact is common, for pleasure. What was sacred, now for pleasure.’ Stathis remembered the look of shock on Fionarasa’s face, when she had seen Parth’s necklace. ‘This place, a secret, for a time at least. Guarded, and hidden still.’

‘OK, so wedding customs have changed, I think you’re saying? Anyway, that makes sense. Get some of your relatives up here to acclimatise them. Then maybe this place can be a holiday resort or something? It’s actually pretty nice, now there’s no murderous death-ghost trying to kill everything. So, are you getting married, or coming with us?’

Parth glanced over at the… prince? Although if Parth was a queen, there might be some politics involved. And to judge by her necklace of rings, this wasn’t her first or only engagement – elves were meant to marry only once, and for life, but were apparently rather more relaxed when it came to the pre-marriage arrangements! He wasn’t bad-looking, if you didn’t mind someone on the shorter side, although his clothing was a rather impractical mass of layered robes, definitely more suited to ruling without actually having to move much, never mind fight. ‘Maybe later. Bit young still.’

Stathis couldn’t tell if she meant him or herself, or both. ‘I’ll take your word for it, I can never tell. So you’re coming back with the rest of us?’

Parth nodded.

‘That’s good to know. I don’t suppose you’ve been able to talk to them about any form of reward? We did help defeat a legendary enemy, or something like that, be nice to get something for it all.’

Parth reached into a pocket and pulled out a small golden disc, about an inch wide, and decorated with a crown. Stathis pressed it – from the give, it was solid gold. ‘Bath token. Unlimited.’

‘That’s nice, I guess. I was hoping for something rather more, ah, lucrative? Unlimited bathing is nice, but not that valuable. Or portable’

Parth nodded again. ‘Arrangements to be made. Many heirlooms, some disposable.’

‘Good, thanks. It’ll be nice to pay off some of my debt to the damn church!’ Stathis sat on a rock, glad to take the weight off her hip. ‘So, you’re a queen? Where of?’

Parth spoke an incredibly long word that Stathis didn’t recognise, before staring at her, sighing, and speaking in the common tongue. ‘Thrice-queen, of the Everfrost Mountains, the TelQesar Plains, and Greater Belphern.’

‘Sounds impressive. That’s, what, the Breakspines, most of the area the twelve cities cover, and whatever the last one was?’

‘Sandis, Cormantara, Farjan and Latharl.’ Parth named four countries, adjacent to each other and engaged in continual warfare, over ancient grievances everyone else had long-since forgotten.

‘I don’t think you’ll be staking a claim there anytime soon, unless you’ve got an army somewhere. Although you should have said something earlier, I had no idea you were so high-ranking.’

Parth shrugged again, looking vaguely embarrassed. ‘Old legacy. Title, no power.’

‘Hey, it seems to give you some pull here. Free bathing might not be much, but it’s better than nothing. So, is there anything else I need to know? Any other ancient curses going to suddenly emerge and try to kill us? Any of your other rings going to drag us into something?’

Parth shrugged. ‘Will warn.’

‘Please do. Flying banshees are somewhat out of our paygrade – if you think something like that might be lurking around, then just tell me! From that big picture, I guess there’s at least two others somewhere as well, or were they defeated back in the olden times?’

Parth’s expression, at least as far as Stathis could tell, was even more guarded than usual. ‘The Three, the Black Destroyers, destroyers of the old world. Defeated, destroyed, but their legacy persists. The Songstress… just a minion, hollow and bitter.’ Parth looked momentarily distraught, Stathis reaching out a comforting hand to pat her on the shoulder.

‘Well, she’s one ancient monster no-one has to worry about ever again. Although a full explanation of all that stuff would be nice. Before it starts beating the crap out of me, ideally.’

Parth rolled her eyes, then started to speak, even as her body faded away into an ethereal ghost, Stathis’ hand suddenly falling through. She could be seen, her mouth moving, although with a sharp grin on her features. Stathis sighed, and made a crude gesture, Parth giving an expression of faux-shock before continuing to possibly-explain, Stathis not even trying to read her lips.

‘Really, Parth? You’ve learnt some ancient magic of your people, just to be a prick?’

If Parth grinned any wider, her head would fall off, apparently now having discovered the amazing magical power of ‘speech’. Stathis rose, heading back towards the castle. Parth walked alongside her, still apparently chatting away, hands gesturing as she spoke, pausing at times, as though expecting Stathis to fill in the gaps of conversation.

Stathis reached into a pocket, finding a tattered scrap of paper, scribbling a rude word on it, before holding it up for Parth. Parth reacted again with exaggerated shock, before returning to her ‘explanation’, fading off into the undergrowth as they approached the castle again. The area had been mostly cleaned back, the trees pruned and tided, elves hard at work restoring and repairing everything.

The dragon flew over, rush of wind scattering leaves through the air, shifting into her smaller form as she landed on the walls. Hakara was perched on a wall, deep in conversation with an elf, gesturing around the area. As Stathis approached, Hakara saw her, dropping off the wall, magic shimmering around her and slowing her fall, robes rippling as she fell.

‘Good afternoon, Miss Stathis. I thought Parth was with you?’

‘Yeah, she vanished. You find out anything useful? Looks like you’re getting on well with them.’ A pair of elven workers walked past, both bowing as they did so.

‘They have quite a task ahead of them – there are only about 200 left. They have sufficient stores to last them a while, but will need to use what magic they have to ensure they have enough food to survive. Fortunately, this place was well-chosen and fertile. They are quite pleasant though, if a little reserved. They plan to stay here, although wish to restore the place somewhat before making their presence known to the wider world. Miss Parth has said she will send some of her relatives to help. I suppose we should keep this secret ourselves?’

‘I think so, yeah. Let them sort it out. No-one really comes up here, so they’ve got a while before any other explorers are likely to come by, and the dragon seems to be sticking around.’ Stathis looked up onto the walls, where Fionarasa and Gintestarrak were walking. ‘She doesn’t seem to be doing much ravaging or destroying, which is good.’ Most of her time had been spent relaxing, while avoiding Janaxia’s increasingly overt attempts at flirtation and seduction, which Semari had watched with great delight. If it hadn’t been for her cat, she would probably ignore Janaxia completely, but the two of them were frequently together, Janaxia often talking to the thing, using it as a lure. ‘There’s worse protectors, I guess. She doesn’t seem very destructive, although must be getting something from it.’

‘I think she may have claimed this as her domain – with the elves so diminished, they have little ability to fight back, and she seems to demand payment mostly in food, bathing supplies and rub-downs. I have seen her order a group to wash and scrub her down, I imagine it can be hard to properly wash a body that large. And with the amount of items left behind by the deceased, she can likely assemble a horde of her own. Other people from the past may be easier to get on with – I believe that dragons are not kind to those of their kin that show weakness, or have no horde of their own. Whatever she had before would have been claimed long since, so this represents her best chance to recover some dignity, and not get devoured by her kin.’

‘Dragons can be pretty nasty, yeah. I’ve heard of some of the younger ones running and hiding in the cities, rather than dealing with their parents. Um, sorry this turned out this way; I wasn’t expecting banshees and stuff!’

‘It has been interesting though. And I got to see Miss Janaxia’s magic! I want to ask to look at her spellbook, but don’t want to be rude – do you think she would be willing to teach me some of her spells? They are vastly different than anything I’ve seen before.’

Memories of indecipherable text flashed through Stathis’ mind, making her head swim for a moment. ‘I don’t know how much of what she does can be taught. Her magic is a bit, um, odd. And I think there’s some strange spells on her spellbook as well, it’s an heirloom or something wierd. Trust me, your own magic is far easier to work with.’

Hakara didn’t sound convinced. ‘I don’t think I saw her consult her spellbook once though! To be able to cast so many spells without refreshing herself, and to control darkness like that, to wield it as a weapon, that is an art I haven’t seen before. To be able to memorise that much magic at once is astounding.’

‘Is it? She’s normally tapped out after a few big blasts, I think you can cast a lot more. She just does a lot of those little zappy bolts to cover up for it. She doesn’t have anything like the range you do, like tracking and divination and stuff. And your spells are a lot less creepy; believe me when I say you do not want to be caught in that darkness, it’s really freaky. You’re probably better off with your own magic. Anyway, you up for sticking around? It’s nice to have magic that’s more normal.’

‘I think I will stay with you, at least for a while. It has been quite educational, and I would hope it is quite profitable.’ She looked at Stathis, eyes optimistic.

‘I hope so do. Parth says they’ll give us something, hopefully enough to make some cash. We can settle terms later, but good to have you aboard. Let me know if you need anything.’

‘Thank you, I will do so. Hopefully Miss Parth will become more friendly, I would love to speak with her about elven history.’

‘I wouldn’t get your hopes up about that, she’s not much of a talker. But don’t let Janaxia bully you. And tell Semari off if she’s being a pain.’

A trio of elven youths (at least to judge by how they were treated by the others, with a mix of condescension and command) ran up, bowing in sync with each other.

‘Hauleni Iristari Stathis, can you teach us more combat? Key-Mistress Fionarasa gave her permission.’ Each had even bought a sword, finely-crafted elven masterworks, doubtless worth a bundle to an antiquarian. One made a swing, their balance acceptable, for someone without experience.

‘You go on if you want to, Hakara. OK then, you need to change your grip. Angle your hand slightly when gripping it.’ She took a sword and demonstrated, ignoring the pain in her shoulder. ‘Then, feet apart, side on. Front hand for power, back hand for control.’ She counted out 10 practice swings, then handed the sword back, so they could all try, and watched them practice.

Behind them, half-hidden in a shadowy corner, was Janaxia, whispering to the cat, before stepping back, hiding out of sight. A few moments later, Gintestarrak emerged from one of the towers, carefully looking around before stepping into the sunlight, swiftly moving over to her cat, picking it up and cradling it. Janaxia struck, emerging from her shadowy corner to stand behind Gintestarrak. As she turned around to find Janaxia standing behind her, she jumped, clearly startled. Janaxia advanced, Gintestarrak stepping backwards, until she was backed up against the wall, Janaxia pressing her advantage as best she could, her flirtation rather closer to stalking now.

Stathis switched to a different stance, a thrusting lunge, making sure their foot work was correct and they were keeping their swords level with each attack. She glanced over, where Janaxia had somehow squirmed her way closer to Gintestarrak to stroke the cat, as Gintestarrak looked mildly panicked. The one-sided flirtation continued, Gintestarrak clearly wanting nothing more than to escape, until Fionarasa came from another doorway, going over and speaking to them both, Gintestarrak taking the chance to make an escape, almost hiding behind the elf, as the pair made an exit.

Failing to hide her dejection, Janaxia approached Stathis, watching the sword swings.

‘You want to join in, Janaxia? You could do with some more practice.’

Janaxia looked down at herself – her dress today was fairly sensible, over-decorated as usual but allowing for decent movement, although the mini top-hat perched on top of a horn seemed a bit silly. She sighed. ‘Lady Gintestarrak seems rather preoccupied, so I suppose so.’ She pulled out her wooden blade, striking an exaggerated combat stance, making Stathis go over and physically pull her into a proper stance. ‘You’re not going to be using a shield, and aren’t strong enough to block very well, so you need to attack, or stay out of reach. Or you’ll get stabbed again.’

Janaxia pressed back against her. ‘That was rather unpleasant, yes, I wasn’t expecting it to burn as it did.’

Stathis guided her hands into a proper grip, showing her how to thrust. ‘Yeah, well, try not to get stabbed. Or get some damn armour without holes in! What’s going on with the dragon, anyway?’

Stathis could feel Janaxia tense as she moved her through the correct attacking form. ‘She is putting up something of a cold front. Most unexpected, I would have thought after being frozen for centuries she would be rather more desirous of company. But she seems almost persistently unfriendly!’

‘Well, she is a dragon. And probably rather grumpy about being woken up after gods-knows-how-long it’s been, she might not be in the mood for socialising with you.’

Janaxia made a disappointed noise, followed by a particularly savage thrust, overextending badly, Stathis giving her a slight push so she fell over, tumbling to the ground. Before she could complain, Stathis issued new orders. ‘Everyone, pair up; practice basic sparring. Janaxia, turn your creepy magic off, I don’t want any accidents!’

The training continued, Stathis keeping them busy enough to forestall any complaints from Janaxia – her reflexes weren’t bad, and she obediently turned off her magical protection, a few bruises hopefully teaching her to be careful. The youths showed promise – some of the other elves could probably teach them a bit more, and this place could do with some defenders other than a dragon.