By the time Beth and Peter finished their tour of the city, they were exhausted. Gavin had proven himself a capable guide, albeit one who seemingly knew half the people in the city. As for the other half, they were at least aware that he was on the path to becoming a blacksmith, something which brought out a level of respect not usually afforded to 6-year-olds—an age Beth had trouble wrapping her head around, considering the boy’s speech and size. He was also oblivious to the concept of “slow,” leading them on a blistering pace that only stopped when Peter threatened to toss him off a bridge if he didn’t give them a moment to rest.

She was 70% sure he was joking.

The door to their house unlocked at Beth’s touch, the creak of the hinge echoing through the barren house, causing her to tsk as she looked around. While the tour had been beneficial, it had left her with no opportunity to do any shopping. Bad as it was to be stolen away from everything they had built on Earth, having to live in a house instead of a home rankled her in a way she couldn’t describe.

“You’re back!” Angela said, walking down the hallway from the kitchen. “And you brought food!” She clapped her hands and danced behind her parents as they walked into the kitchen, Peter handing her two of the small pies they’d purchased before coming home. They looked similar to the ones Beth had acquired a taste for when visiting Australia in her youth; hand-sized and made of a puff pastry with variable kinds of filling.

“Oh man, is this a curry pie?” Angela asked. “It smells amazing. You guys rock.”

“I think ‘curry’ is a generous interpretation,” Beth said. “And be careful. That was the only vegetarian food we could find, and the vendor was adamant that they were—oh dear.”

Before Beth could finish her warning, Angela was three bites into her first pastry.

“Oh my god,” her daughter said, eyes going wide. “Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!” She sprinted to the sink and turned on the tap, shouting as she ran water over her mouth and tongue.

“What’s going on?” Mark said, walking in from the backyard.

“THE PIE IS LAVA!” Angela shouted.

Peter slid two pies in Mark’s direction, giving him a flat look. “These are for you.”

Noting his dad’s expression, Mark looked at Beth. “Are mine lava, too?” When she showed no response either, he frowned. “Did I do something wrong?”

“You tell me,” she said pointedly. The question was usually a tried-and-true way to set him babbling, but this time all he gave her was a confused look. He’d either grown too cagey or legitimately had no idea what she was talking about.

“Darius’ son said you can do magic,” she said, opting for the direct route.

Mark’s mouth pressed together in a thin line. “Did he, now?”

“Don’t get mad at Gavin,” Peter said. “We should have heard from you long before he even had a chance.”

“Kind of my decision,” Mark said curtly. “And you don’t even know why I’m mad at the kid. Has he told anybody else?”

“I don’t know.”

Mark nodded, but his face was grim. “Looks like a certain blacksmith and I need to have a conversation.”

Picking up his pie, Mark began to eat. He stared into the distance as a stony silence developed, broken only by the sound of Angela occasionally turning on the faucet so she could guzzle water straight from the tap. It wasn’t easy for Beth to resist the urge to push the conversation then and there, but she knew her kids. Hunger was not going to make the conversation easier. Still, she only had so much restraint.

“Mark, you’ve got to put yourself in our position,” she said as soon as he finished one of his pies. “This world is a complete enigma. We’re barely treading water, and now we find out that you can do magic and haven’t told us? You must see how that information is relevant to the family, don’t you?” She knew that if Peter had made the comment it would have gotten Mark’s hackles up, but coming from her, it simply prompted a tight, apologetic smile.

He looked at her, taking a moment to wipe the grease off his hands on the paper bag from his pie.

“I get it,” he said as he put the bag aside. “I’d want to know if I were you as well. But I don’t know as much about this magic as you probably think I do. Can I do some? Yes. Can I control it? No. Does it resemble anything I’ve ever read about? Also no. And I didn’t tell you because of that exact expression on your face right now. You have enough to worry about without adding me to the mix.”

“Are you in any danger?” she asked, consciously trying to relax the worry lines on her face.

“I don’t know,” he said. “Probably? It’s magic, and I’ve got crap Luck. Literally. I always suspected it, and now I’ve got the Tome to prove it. Truth be told, I’ve pretty much accepted that I’ll blow myself up at some point.”

“Mark, that’s awful!” Beth said. “And you didn’t think this is something worth sharing?”

“No, I didn’t,” he said. He took a moment, rubbing his forehead. “Look, I know that’s difficult to hear, but I can’t emphasize enough just how important it is to keep this a secret. I made a deal with Darius and Rosie for that exact reason, which is why I’m so pissed at Gavin.”

“I don’t understand,” Beth said. “What would happen if people found out?”

“Honestly? I don’t know, but getting burned at the stake isn’t out of the question. Our trip to the Mage’s college didn’t go well. There wasn’t a good vibe at the place to begin with, and when one of them found out about my messed-up class she did not react well. I don’t know if she’ll tell anyone, but there’s a good chance I’m in a ‘shoot on sight’ category of magic user, so I really hope she keeps things to herself.”

Beth’s fists clenched on her pant legs, palms sweating. She wanted to grab her son and hold him like she had as a child, but instead she just said, “Why would you think that?”

Mark exchanged glances with Angela. “Trust us on this one. Until we can get this figured out, it’s better to keep silent.”

Peter shook his head and groaned. “Ugh, this is just perfect.”

“To be clear, I didn’t ask for this,” Mark said tersely.

“I’m not saying you did. I’m just saying that we’re dealing with a bad enough situation, and now we’re handicapped even further.”

“A handicap?” Mark said. “Cute. Just like I was on Earth?”

“You know that’s not what he’s saying!” Beth jumped in. “It’s a turn of phrase.”

“If that’s not what he’s saying, then he should use different words,” Mark snapped.

“Don’t speak to your mother like that,” Peter said, scowling, “and for god’s sake, I’m not drawing a parallel to your epilepsy. We’re handicapped on a lot of axes. Lack of knowledge, lack of Renown, lack of Skills, your mother and I’s lack of a class—this is just one more thing on the list, okay?”

“Great, I’m just one more thing that—”

“For fuck’s sake, just show them the staff!” Angela snapped, her ability to speak finally returning after her battle with the pie. Beth shot her a glare, but Angela simply rolled her eyes. “Ugh. Yes, I swore, mom, but this is so stupid! Mark, they know about the magic now—just tell them about the staff already. You’re being so fucking emo about this instead of telling them the one part that’s actually good.” Then she coughed into her fist and quietly mumbled, “Also I may have screwed up and alienated some people at the College so if they come knocking on our door it’s because of me not Mark and I’m sorry.”

“You did what now?” Peter asked, looking confused.

Beth ignored Angela’s comment, looking instead at Mark. His arms were crossed, and his brow was creased…classic signs that he’d dug in his heels.

She sighed. When Mark had begun treatment for his seizures, her husband had developed an unfortunate tendency to treat Mark’s successes as “getting back to normal” rather than celebrating them for the victories they were. It had resulted in her son refusing to share good news out of spite, and she worried that was the case here.

Fortunately, Beth wasn’t the only one aware of Mark’s habit.

“God, do I have to do everything?” Angela groaned. She walked to the other side of the room and grabbed Mark’s staff from where it was leaning against the wall before marching it back and pressing it into her brother’s bare hand.

The wood burst into a kaleidoscope of glowing whorls and patterns.

“His staff stops the seizures,” Angela said, looking at her parents and their shocked expressions. “Didn’t you wonder why he’s been seizure-free despite the lack of medicine? Verna gave this thing to him as his boon, but it also came with the weird magic, and we can’t work out the connection.”

Mark gave his sister an odd look before turning back to her and Peter. “That basically sums it up, to be honest. As of now, I haven’t really worked out what else it can do. If I don’t keep it with me, I start having seizures again, though.”

Beth sprang at her son and wrapped him in a huge hug. “I am so happy for you!” she said, her heart swelling. She and Peter had discussed the lack of seizures privately but had agreed not to bring it up with Mark. They’d assumed the seizures would return eventually, so letting him enjoy this time of respite seemed the kinder option.

But this?

Stepping back, she held her son at arm’s length. “I don’t care what else is happening with you, magic-wise. If it does nothing but keep you seizure-free, it’s worth it. We’ll stay silent, and if anyone asks we’ll tell them you hurt your leg and the staff helps with the ache.”

“Or better yet, learn to fight with it,” Peter added, pointing to the staff’s sharp tip. “Given what Darius said, people won’t bat an eye at someone carrying a weapon, and being able to use it effectively may save you from exposing your magic. But truly, son, this is great news. I’m happy for you.”

Mark managed a tight smile. “Not sure where I’m going to pick up that training, though.”

“You leave that to me,” Peter said, his expression intense.

“Uh, okay?” Mark said, somewhat thrown off by his dad’s reaction. He gave an awkward laugh. “Just find someone patient…my Tome doesn’t think too highly of my Intelligence, remember?”

“Screw the Tomes,” Peter said, looking at the family. “Every one of us is smart and competent.” He looked pointedly at Mark. “Everyone. We’re just inexperienced. Our first priority is to avoid trouble, no question about that, but if it finds us—”

“You mean ‘when’ it finds us,” Angela said with a snicker.

“No,” Beth said, refusing to adopt Angela’s fatalism. “This is a rough town, but people will leave us alone if we’re smart. And if it seems too rough, we move somewhere else. Once Grandpa Jack makes his way here, of course. In the meantime, you two kids can sort out your magic and Peter and I will get jobs.”

She expected the family to respond to her comment, but to her surprise, Mark didn’t even seem to have heard her. Instead, he was staring at his father.

“Do you mean that, dad?” he asked. “That wasn’t just you blowing smoke?”

“Yes,” Peter said immediately. “It dawned on me as I was hauling my fat ass across this city that I’ve got a long way to go and it’s going to be a hell of a lot easier if we do it together.”

Mark nodded. For some reason, his expression made Beth nervous. She felt like the conversation was getting away from her.

“Mark…?” she asked.

He looked at her. “We all want to see Grandpa Jack, don’t we?”

She nodded, unsure where he was going.

“What if we got him ourselves?”

Everyone stared at him.

“I’m not joking,” he said. “We’ve already got healing and magic locked up, possibly even crowd control. We'd have a balanced party if you guys filled out melee and stealth spots.”

Beth couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Mark, I want to see my grandfather too, but we are nowhere near skilled enough to survive the forest on our own, let alone finding him once we’re out there. Look, Angela agrees with me.” She gestured to her daughter, who had her head in her hands and was rocking back and forth.

“Unnngh…me no likey the forest. Forest bad! Bad things in forest try kill Angela!”

“Seriously?” Mark asked.

“Yes, I’m serious!” she said. “I was in the forest and things tried to kill me. One of them did kill me. You think I want to go back to that god-forsaken place?”

“How is it god-forsaken?” Mark asked, throwing his hands in the air. “You literally serve a goddess whose entire purpose is to watch over it!”

“Which she does. Watch, I mean. She watches things attack me, or poison me, or drown me, or god-knows what. I haven’t been struck by lightning yet, so that’s still on the table.”

Mark leaned back, shaking his head. “So that’s it? Grandpa Jack needs our help, and you won’t do it because you’re afraid of the weather?”

Angela stared at him, grimaced, then dropped her head. “Ugh, fine!”

Looking up at Beth, she said, “Mom, I really, really hate to admit it, but Mark is right. I mean, we all got a quest that basically tells us to go find him. But you’re right too. We aren’t skilled enough for this world, and our Renown is barely high enough to stop people from spitting on us. Unfortunately, that’s not going to change simply by living our lives in Palmyre. We need to level up, and the best way to do that is with enemies to fight. Much as I hate to admit it—and I really hate to admit it—that means going into the forest.”

Peter made a face. “I like the enthusiasm, but I’m not sure we’d even make it to the forest as we are now.”

“Sure, as we are now,” Angela said. “But if Mark and I got a handle on our magic and we had someone like Eliza to act as a guide? Get you and mom a class and train you up a bit? Well, we might last long enough to gain some levels and start grinding on our own.”

Beth looked at her husband, expecting him to push back, only to discover him mulling it over.

“Are you actually considering this?” she said. “What if Grandpa Jack dies and gets reborn in our living room like Angela? We could be risking our lives for nothing!”

“Mom…” Mark said in a tired voice. “You’ve got to realize that you’re putting blinders on about this place. This isn’t just about Grandpa Jack. It’s about Arenia. We don’t get to pick the rules, but we have to live by them. If we want any kind of decent life here, that means levelling up.”

“I’m sure we could just work hard and—”

“It doesn’t work like that,” Mark said, waving his staff in an expansive gesture. “Look around you. Really look. You saw the city today. What kind of life do these people have? The ones who just work for a living instead of sitting in fancy estates?”

Beth wanted to push back on him. And she would have if she hadn’t noticed the same undercurrents during their tour with Gavin.

The eastern half of Palmyre was a place of beauty. The northern temples were spectacular, the eastern estates incredible, and the overall investment in art and public works was noticeable everywhere. But there were cracks. People who looked tired. Shopkeepers with an air of desperation. Well-dressed people with full faces standing next to those of poorer dress who looked gaunt, or worse, ill. And beyond that, she couldn’t help but think about Darius’ strict order to Gavin to not take them to the Port District. What was there? What did that part of the city hide?

It couldn’t be that bad for someone of low Renown, could it?

“I know that look,” Mark said with a laugh. “That’s the look you get when you’re trying to delude yourself.”

She scowled. “I don’t delude myself, and if I did, I definitely wouldn’t have ‘a look.’”

“Oh wow, mom, no. You totally do,” Angela said. “Remember when you convinced yourself that we wouldn’t notice you dropping gluten from the family diet?”

“Or when you thought you could get us to go on 5 a.m. family runs together?” Mark added.

“Oh! Remember the ‘Volunteering at a soup kitchen on Christmas is just as fun as presents’ fiasco?”

“Thank god I stepped in on that one,” Peter muttered.

“I get it!” Beth said, waving her hands. “Sometimes, I miss the mark. Maybe this is one of those times. I don’t know.” She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’ll check out more of the city tomorrow and think about it, okay? I don’t want to live like an indentured servant any more than you do, but you’re talking about risking our lives in the wilderness. That’s not something to take lightly.”

“Totally,” Mark said, raising his hands. “It’s not like we could go monster hunting right now anyway. I sure couldn’t. But dad is right; we need to get experience, and doing it together just makes sense.”

“In the meantime,” Peter said, “this family needs money, and it needs connections. Darius pointed me towards some job prospects that I want to investigate. If I’m smart about things, maybe I can take care of both things at once.” Seeing Beth’s look, he raised his hands. “Not that I’m committing to anything. I’m just not closing any doors.”

Beth was more than a little annoyed with her husband and the general feeling of being railroaded by her family.

“I’m going to bed,” she said, even though it was still light out. “Quite frankly, I don’t want to discuss this anymore, whether there are merits to it or not. At least not until I’ve had a better look around the city tomorrow.”

Peter grimaced as he looked at her. “Hon,” he said apologetically, “you know none of this excites me, right? We’re simply doing what needs to be done.”

She didn’t respond. She just turned and left the room before anyone could see her reaction to the words.

After all, only she knew the things that simple phrase could justify.