Mefal is the last permanent settlement before the White Desert shows its full strength, stretching away in three directions. Looking north, a traveler could see the edges of the Shimmer and perhaps wonder just how far away it was.

And although it was little more than a hamlet, Mefal had an inn with a large fireplace. Through clever engineering, a large stone soaking pit had been constructed in a room behind the fireplace, so it is always warm, always ready for cold and weary travelers to wash the grime and sand away.

The soaking pit was the second place Isa visited once they arrived at the Black Wagon Inn.

They arrived in Mefal as the sun was rising behind them. The main street was all but empty. One man sat on the wooden step of a slanting building. He had his head resting on his folded arms. He didn’t stir as the group walked past him.

Quietly Dulrak said, “The inn is just ahead. Husband and wife run the place. I’ll find you there for dinner tonight, and we can talk.” The wind blew his beard over his shoulder, and in the morning light, Dulrak’s face looked like a ruin.

Alice grabbed his arm. “Where are you going?”

He smiled and patted her hand. “I have my own business to attend. But they know me here. Ask anyone you like, none will speak evil of me.”

**

The Black Wagon Inn was a two-story building – the only one they’d seen in town so far. It sprawled along the street like a traveler who’d dropped his bags and slept where he lay. The building was wood with a stone foundation and three fat chimneys spaced evenly with the fattest one in the middle.

Mery looked up at the roof with her hands on her hips. “I’ve seen worse,” she said.

“Three chimneys,” said Lund. “Should be warm, if nothing else.”

Mery led the way into the inn, and Isa was happy to leave the haggling to her. She wanted to find a quiet place to check her bag. She had to know if the white feather was still there. Until she laid eyes on it again, part of her could think it was an illusion, an afterimage from the light that burst from the mummy’s heart.

And she couldn’t say why she needed privacy. They’d all been there. They hadn’t seen the feather, true, but they had all heard the quest, heard the words about the goddess, so no one would disbelieve her if she told them about the white feather. No one would try to take from her for their own gain.

As Mery talked with the thin, bald man behind the desk, Isa looked for any indication that the inn sported an indoor toilet. She poked her head into the common room, but it was empty. A hallway ran parallel to the front desk, and Isa took a few steps down the hall. She turned sideways to allow two dwarves to walk by. They nodded acknowledgement and resumed talking. One said to the other, “Have you heard from the construct?”

His friend’s reply was lost to Isa as she spied a short, dark haired man hurrying by with a platter of food. She asked, “Do you have a bathroom or an outhouse?”

“Water closet’s upstairs,” he gestured with his elbow. “Guests only.” And then he hurried into the other room.

Mery was saying the bald man, “That’s fine. We’re a companionable group, as you can see.”

The man nodded. “Our ways are not everyone’s ways, but in the North, you come to appreciate body heat – no matter the source. Southerners, they dismiss our big beds as ‘orc beds’, but we prefer not to freeze to death in winter.”

“Excuse me,” said Isa. “Hi. I need to use the water closet.”

“That’s Isa. Chamberlin. One of the group. A little….” Mery shrugged.

“Entitled?” said the man.

“Impulsive, I was gonna say.” Mery smiled.

Isa gave the man a weak grin that she hoped conveyed that she was harmless. He sighed. “Head of the stairs. If you stink it up, light the candle. If you splatter, clean it up. Those are the rules.”

“Yes,” Isa nodded. “Thank you.” To Alice she murmured, “I’ll be right back.” She trundled up the stairs like someone in a hurry to find the john.

Once inside the small closet Isa let out a sigh. She hadn’t been truly alone in days. On a small shelf a thin candle burned beside an unlit, squat candle. Isa’s eyes trailed upwards and caught sight of a small mirror fixed to the wall. With a sigh Isa picked up the lit candle and leaned forward to look in the mirror.

Lines at her eyes and at her mouth. A crease on her forehead, as if she’d spent years worrying over all the big and little problems of life. A little vertical line between her eyebrows that she could have sworn had never been there before.

How much of this is weariness and how much is aging?

That was impossible to answer, and anyway, she’d come in to check on the white feather. Isa put the candle down and reached for her bag, then came a knock on the door. “Isa?” called Alice. “You OK?”

“Yeah.” Isa looked at her bag and then at the door. “Almost done.”

“We have a room. All of us. One room.”

She heard a noise that might have been Alice leaning against the closet wall. She opened her bag and reached in. Her hand went past her notebook – now that she’d seen the damage from the ghost, Isa felt like she could look at her notebook and see “Age: 38” without crying – and she felt the feather, nestled between her notebook and the heavy canvas of the bag.

“What am I going to do about you?” she said softly. And at that moment Lund’s face came to mind. He might not know what to do, but he’d never let Isa down. She could talk to him about the feather, get advice.

Of course, she could ask the same of Alice. She told people that Alice was the smartest person she’d ever met, so why not open the bathroom door and tell her girlfriend everything? Isa reached out her hand to unlock the door but stopped short. Maybe the quest log showed something new, now. She hadn’t thought of that. She’d check her notebook later, when she had time. For now, she’d spent too much time hiding in the bathroom.

Pushing open the door, Isa was greeted by Alice and Mery. “Mery got the bathhouse for us!” Alice clapped her hands together and bounced merrily.

“It’s a marvel,” said Mery. “Bloody genius. They are getting it ready for us now.”

“A house? I don’t—”

“A tub! Big thing, too. We’ll all fit nicely.” Mery grinned and pulled Isa toward the stairs.

“All of us?” Isa looked from Mery to Alice.

“Don’t be a cold cloth, you outlander. We’ll all keep our privates private, alright?”

“And babe, they will clean our clothes while we’re soaking. Can you believe it? Clean clothes.”

They’d reached the common room, and Isa saw a small door to the left of the fireplace. It was only about five feet tall and made to look like part of the paneling when it was shut. Mery ducked down and into the room, with Alice and Isa following.

**

They’d all been soaking about 30 minutes when the innkeeper knocked and entered the bathhouse. “Your friend has arrived.” He waved his hand as another figure stepped into the room, stooping low to come in.

Mery was out of the tub and crouched on the stone floor before the figure had straightened up. “Friend? All my tall friends are here.”

The innkeeper shrugged. “She knew your names.” He turned and left the bathhouse, leaving the door open.

“She?” Isa stood up in the tub. There was something familiar about the figure. She was wearing a traveling cloak with the hood up, and Isa couldn’t help but wonder if it was an elven cloak like her own.

Lund stood up too and water beaded off his naked torso. Between the muscles and the scars, he cut an intimidating figure, even with a bar of soap clutched in one fist. In a low clear voice he said, “We are unarmed but not defenseless. Perhaps you should leave now, and when we are done, we can join you in the common room.”

“I rather like the privacy of this room,” said the figure as she pulled back her hood to reveal her face.

“Marissa?” Alice and Isa both gasped.

“In the flesh,” she said with a smile. She leaned down and closed the door. “I’m not armed, by the way. The keeper, he made me disarm before he’d let me in here. I guess I failed my charisma check.”

Isa and Alice were out of the tub and hugging their friend and not worrying about getting bath water everywhere. “How are you here?” asked Alice.

“Why are you here?” asked Isa at almost the same moment.

From behind them Mery said, “I’d like to know how you two outlanders know a half-elf.”

Marissa paused in the act of untying the scarf that held back her hair. “You must Mery Braydon.” She fluffed out her bright pink hair with one hand and jammed the scarf into her pocket with the other. “You’re just as Ysel described.”

Isa clutched her head. “Wait. Ysel? How the hell— Did she lure you into Varana, too?”

Marissa bit her lip. “The other way around, actually.” She smiled, and her eyes took in the four friends. “Why don’t you get back to your bath, and I’ll explain everything.”