We’ve used the fortress of Heldereth a few times now, so I’m familiar enough with it that I can find my way round without help. Before the Occupation it was an outpost for the Rundao army, and when the invasion came it became something of a thorn in the Tektehrans’ side in the first year. The garrison had no more orders from their former masters in Tabaphic by that point, so they saw it as their duty to harass the new occupation as best they could, and for a few months they played merry mischief as they cut supply lines and harassed convoys. When the Terrors finally decided to take care of this little problem once and for all it was another four months before the siege finally broke them, and the remaining fighters inside went down hard, making their killers earn every drop of blood with their own.

Why the Terrors didn’t garrison it themselves was always something of a mystery to me, but they left it empty, a place of bitter ghosts that’s always made me a little uncomfortable. The defences were still strong, all it really took to make it serviceable again was replacing some broken gates, and ever since we’ve maintained a skeleton crew of our own here to dissuade other opportunists from trying to capitalise on its position since. So far the Terrors haven’t come calling, so we’ve put it to good use ourselves instead.

Even so, it took a few hours make it ready to house our entire company. Roe, Tarrow, Garnon and I went ahead along with our prisoner to set the ball rolling, and we still had to pitch in with the half dozen bodies currently serving their tour here in order to turn the barracks out, light the bonfires and ready the stores. By the time that hard-won cargo and the rest of our prize arrived on ogre-back with a twenty-strong horseback escort, we were still scrabbling to put the finishing touches to the work. I barely made it back down to the courtyard in time to greet my mother. And Ashsong and his … friend.

Likely they didn’t have a much better time of it, though. Given the now far more isolated condition of the Gap, the quickest way to get the cargo out without using teleportation was for someone to prep the hoist and pulley that most of the larger commercial transport convoys that use the crossing would usually employ. Given that Norric’s boys killed the regular crew along with the guards before we laid our trap, and none among us is particularly qualified to operate it, it must’ve taken some working out for whoever was left behind. That said, it must’ve been done in record time because they wasted no time in making their way here after. I suspect the threat of further retaliation, slight as it might be, put a spur in them.

Needless to say, once the remainder of our crew were ensconced it was a mess of a business getting settled in. Those who needed care – and it was quite a few – were taken to the infirmary for what healing was available, while those still largely unharmed went to the mess hall with cutting loose in mind, clearly needing to unwind after the battle and somewhat overdue victory. Myself, I found it hard to stick around for much merriment, my mood was turbulent before we arrived and has gotten steadily worse since. Once I got a chance to compare notes with Tarrow, with Roe and Garnon in tow, he told us what he’d overheard his captors discussing on the road, and the fresh revelations he’s had about our illustrious employer. What I heard has been worrying me a lot since, darkening my own thoughts considerably since as I’ve tried to make sense of it all in my head. I took the first opportunity I could to slip away from mixed company, heading for the battlements and the peace of my own watch.

This is where Roe finds me, perched in one of the crenels with a leg up so I can rest my chin on my knee as I stare into the darkness of the valley below. I catch his approach before he gets close, he’s making no effort to sneak, but my senses are sharp all the same so I like to think I’d still pick him up. Even so, he says nothing when he finds me, simply leans against the stonework beside me, looking past me into the night, and through the corner of my eye I note how unreadable his expression is. Which says something to me all the same.

“I’m not in the mood for celebration.” I mutter after a minute or so.

“Clearly.”

“There’s something horribly wrong here. You heard Tarrow’s story. That bastard Ashsong is in league with unnatural forces and I want no part of it, I don’t care how good his money is.”

“You’re right. But we took that money all the same, and your mother is in charge. I follow you, but Min is still master of us all, what she says goes.”

“I just can’t believe she can’t see that … snake for what he is.”

“Well I can, but my word doesn’t carry much weight in the grand scheme of things. Not many of us can convince your mother of anything, she tends to keep her own council. Once upon a time, perhaps there was your father, she listened to him, at least. But he’s gone away, and there’s only one person I know she’ll listen to now.”

Turning to face him now I find he’s giving me a particularly pointed look. With night fallen he no longer needs the lenses so his eyes are clear, I can read them as well as my own palm. “I’ve tried, Roe. She didn’t listen to me before when we were still having our arses handed to us by those sellswords. What makes you think she’ll listen now the prize is won and we’re richer than we’ve been in all the years I’ve known?”

“Because you’re her daughter and she loves you more than anything else in the world.”

“And if she says no?” I drop my raised leg back down with the other, perching now. “What then?”

Roe sighs deep. “Then I’m with you whatever you decide. Garnon too, I shouldn’t doubt. They’re far more fond of you than they’ll ever admit, Shay. If you choose to break faith with your mother then we’ll follow you.”

“Break faith?” I drop down beside him. “What do you … oh gods no, you can’t be serious. I can’t go against her.”

“Even if she sides with a monster?”

I stare at him for a long time, clenching and loosening my fists, clenched teeth fit to squeak in my jaw. Damn it, he’s right. I can’t let this stand, but if she goes ahead with this now I’ll have no choice. This is wrong, I feel it in my bones, and I know now that if I let it go on something truly terrible is going to happen. I can feel it in my bones. Roe can too, that’s why he’s so sure about what I’m going to have to do next. I could punch him right now, I really could.

“Shit.” Nothing for it then. I break away and stalk across the walkway to the stairs and then down into the courtyard. I’m halfway to the hall doors before I realise Roe’s jogging a little to keep up with me. “You’re coming?”

“I’ll hang back, I think,” He doesn’t look to me now, simply focused on the doors ahead. “But I’ll be there in support all the same.”

That makes me smile. “Thank you.”

It’s quiet out here, but the noise hits us the moment I push the left-hand door open. The remaining survivors of my own crew have been bolstered by new arrivals since, and as the night’s gone on more members of our convoy have come through the gates, and once they finish their work squaring away they all flock here. The resulting party has been growing for hours, becoming every bit as rowdy as I would’ve expected. This past week’s built a lot of pressure and now there’s finally a chance to let all that frustration go my people are certainly seizing it with both hands. I’m not about to stop them.

There are cheers as I enter, and I manage a somewhat convincing smile as I make my way down the right-hand wall of the mess instead of the middle aisle in the hope of avoiding the worst of the delays. It doesn’t quite work – soon enough I’m pressed into a succession of embraces, handshakes and backslapping, more than one drink passing into my hands to share a toast that I’m careful to only take small sips from to keep my head as clear as I can before handing them back. I really don’t have time for this, but I’m determined not to disappoint anyone, every one of these people is a friend, some pretty much family, and if things were different I’d be cutting loose with them.

Eventually I’m able to break free at the other end and start climbing the steps to the head table on the platform overlooking the hall, and those seated there are already watching my approach, except for Ashsong who’s still making a notable point of ignoring me right now. As I climb Min pushes her chair back and finds her feet, raising her substantial tankard and pretty much roaring to the room at large: “My daughter! The fruit of my womb herself! Shayline Swift-Kill! All hail the conquering hero!”

At first it’s just a wordless shout of approval from the gathered warriors, but soon enough a chant takes hold and they start belting my name out with clumsy rhythm that quickly finds its unity. Despite my purpose here I feel it hit me hard in my heart, a warmth rising inside me and a pride in spite of everything. Finally I realise I’m still holding the last cup of ale that was pressed on me and I raise it high, toasting the gathering at large, and finally I decide to hell with it, knocking the whole thing back in a few deep swallows. They roar their approval again, and several dozen cups, bowls and tankards are drained in sloppy unison in response. For a few moments as the ale settles in me I even manage to feel like a victor myself.

Noric’s left his own seat next to Min to join me by now, and as I lower my empty cup he’s already bringing a large jug forward to refill it. “Well done, Shay.” he chuckles heartily, those brutal scars puckering as he grins wide. “It was a hard fight but you did it.”

“Well, I did my part, at least. Lost a lot of good men and women on that bridge, though. More than I’d have hoped for. You too, I heard.”

“Even so, it was well done. Well done indeed.”

“How about you? I heard you got knocked about some by their mage.”

“Ha! That skinny elvish waif put in a good hit but I got up all the same. Takes more’n a little fancy wizarding to put Noric the Shameless down.” He chuckles again and gives my arm a playful thump, not quite enough to knock me down but I still have to hold my fresh beer steady all the same. “Drink up and be merry. It’s your night, enjoy it.” Giving me one last ruined grin he breaks away and starts down the steps towards the crowd, tipping Roe a respectful nod as he goes, which Roe returns before looking to me.

Inspecting the cup in my hand, I decide it would be best not to have any more of this, not right now. I take a deep breath and set my jaw, turning back to the table to find my mother’s already watching, more thoughtful now, as though she can already tell what I’ve come for.

Before I can move forward another body steps up to me and my blood runs cold. Given how much his presence chills me I’m amazed he hasn’t put a pall over the entire celebration, but I suppose the overwhelming need for a release after that battle has won everyone over. The Creep still puts a dampener on any lingering pleasure I might have derived from it. He’s as well-composed as ever, but that not-quite-a-smile still sends icy shivers through me as he steps forward, and gods protect me he’s actually extending a hand now. I look down at it like it’s a coiled, angry viper ready to strike, and it’s miracle enough I don’t recoil from it.

“Well done, young warrior. I hear it was quite the fight out there.”

It takes me a few moments to find my voice, and the words are even slower coming. “Um … thank you, it’s much appreciated. Yes, it was a hard fight indeed. We got lucky.”

“Perhaps.” Maybe he simply grows tired of waiting, or more likely he just wants to make me more uncomfortable, but after I delay taking that hand for another few moments his own simply strikes out to grasp mine, and that touch sets my skin crawling despite his black kid glove. He pumps it a few times, unpleasantly jovial, and it’s all I can do not to snatch my hand away immediately. “But you are a rare one all the same, Shayline. I daresay you make your mother proud.”

“Thank … thank you, sir. That’s … very kind of you to say.”

His unsettling facsimile of a grin grows wider and suddenly I feel like a fieldmouse caught under the claws of a farm cat. Then he lets go and whips past me, and as he goes he purrs: “Congratulations again, young warrior. Bask in your glory, I say. For me there is only the night.”

Those last words have me at a loss, and I’m just caught, speechless, watching him glide down the stairs with uncanny, unsettling grace and waft through the crowd which parts before him, rowdiness cut short the moment he comes close to each of them. It’s not long returning once he’s passed, but you can follow his progress to the doors all the same. Finally I tear my eyes away and look down at my hand, which still seems to be tingling with unseasonable cold despite my own well-fitted buckskin gloves. Every other thought has quite left my head now, only the cold dread left in me now.

“Shay, are you all right?” I turn now to find my mother’s left her seat at the table, stepping down to me now with concern clear on her face.

“I’m … I’m good, yes. Fine.” I work my fingers, working the feeling back into them, and I’m finally able to breathe out again. “Mother, can we talk?”

She frowns a little, but nods. “Of course. Come have something to eat. You fought hard and then worked yourself just as hard once you came here, you need to replenish your strength.” She takes my still raised hand and starts to tow me after her before I can interject, flicking her chin to Roe to beckon him to follow too.

I allow myself to be seated on her near side, thankfully separate from Ashsong as he continues to ignore me while working at a plateful of steak and vegetables in thick gravy with a set of low-grade steel cutlery that looks extremely incongruous in his fine, delicate white fingers. Roe plants himself next to me, immediately settling to the business of filling the plate before me with a thick cut of rare beef and generous spoons of potatoes and greens that he then liberally slathers with a generous layer of gravy. After a few moments I’ve got sense enough to remember the cup again and set it in place next to the plate, resolving not to touch it again if I can help it.

“All right, Shay,” she starts “I can see something’s bothering you. What’s wrong?”

Taking a deep breath, I realise how impossibly reluctant I now feel to interrupt what good mood she might have built up thanks to this victory and how easily it could spread. It’s not like I have any idea how to broach the subject in the first place, never mind phrase it in a way that could make her chance her mind. But I have to try.

“Mother, I … we need to stop this.”

She frowns at that, but says nothing. She simply waits, leaving me with no choice but to proceed.

“This … elf has brought us rotten goods, and we’re fools to take possession of them. If we let him go ahead with his plan I foresee great sorrow in our future. We need to stop now before something happens that we can’t set right.”

Narrowing her eyes, Min watches me for several moments, long enough to make me think she’s not going to answer me, but I can’t think of anything more to say in this moment. Then she lets go a low hiss, working her jaw as if she’s taken a bite of something she doesn’t like. “Shay, what’s done is done. We couldn’t back down now if we tried, the battle is won and the prize is his. I’ve taken the rest of the coin, and you have your own share of the spoils to do with as you see fit. We can wash our hands of this, it’s no longer our business to be involved with.”

“That’s just the problem, mother. It is our business. If we live in this world, it’s our business, that’s what I feel. What I know now. Ashsong and that … thing he pals about with are in league with something awful from up north, and it spells death for our whole world if we let it. We don’t want that kind of blood on our hands.”

“So what are you suggesting we do, Shay? We’ve completed our mission and our transaction, I can’t exactly keep the prize now. You know how this works, if we go betray our word now we’re just common thieves. I won’t have that kind of stain on my honour, and neither will the others. Are you suggesting we go back on our word, Shay?”

Her gaze is like a dragon’s now, or at least how I would imagine having never met one myself. I try not to squirm, but I can’t help it. Still, I can’t back down, not now. “Yes. We break faith with Erjeon Ashsong and that … abomination he rode in with, or we’ll have something much worse on our consciences. Of this I’m deadly sure.”

Min scowls, but I can see so much sorrow behind her eyes, and something else too. It almost looks like regret. “I can’t. It’s too late, it’s done. You’ll just have to live with it.”

A feeling washes through me now, like the ground has just opened right up under me and swallowed me whole, like I’m dropping into a deep, dark, hopeless hole while I’m still looking into my mother’s eyes. But I have to push on all the same, and it hurts me more than I can bear to do it. “Mother, I can’t. Don’t you see? There won’t be any living with it, not after this.”

“So you’re to be my enemy then, Shayline Swift-Kill?” Ashsong sighs as he sets his knife and fork down on the plate and picks up a square of cloth from his lap that he uses to dab at his lips. It’s something I haven’t seen in a long time, not since my father was around, but it seems like such an affectation when he does it. There’s so much contempt in his face now as he turns to look at me, more than I’ve ever seen in him before.

“I suppose I will be, yes.”

He pushes his own chair back and rises with such graceful ease that I don’t sense the danger I’m in until he’s already drawn that strange sword from the scabbard at his hip, heedless of the food and drink piled on the table as he whips it aside in punctuation. This is the first real look I’ve been able to get of it, and it’s a beautiful weapon, a long, gently curved single-edged blade that gleams almost white as it catches the light, seeming more like some kind of strange opaque crystal than any steel I’ve ever seen. And it looks impossibly sharp. “Then I suppose I must take your head before you try to claim mine.”

I’m already on my feet, drawing my own sword and taking up a ready stance even as my stomach starts roiling. I’m really very reluctant indeed to cross swords with an elf given how much I know about trying to fight one thanks to my father. I know full well the likelihood that I’m facing my own death right now.

But then my mother’s on her feet between us, one hand already on my chest while she holds the other warily towards Ashsong, and I feel Roe grasping my free arm, ready to hold me back. The look on her face is something I don’t think I’ve ever seen before, she seems shocked, and I know now I’ve just done something she never expected I would ever do in a million years. I’m taking a set against her.

“Stop this!” she barks, angrily, fixing me with a hard stare as she collects herself. “This is not the time! I will not have this here, not now, not after what we’ve already been through, nor after what we’ve just achieved. This is a time of revelry and I will not have either of you spoil it!” She turns to Ashsong now, and his jaw tightens seeing her glare. For a moment I’m terribly afraid for her.

Then he turns those piercing eyes of his to me and I just return his own glare with all the hateful fury I can muster, fully prepared to convince him I’m ready to run him through right now even though I sure as hell don’t feel it. I really don’t think I could win this fight, not without a lot of help, and right now I think Roe’s the only person I have on my side here.

“Very well, Mistress Min.” he sighs after a few tense moments of thought “I’ll leave this up to you, but I will not consider this matter settled until you see this wilful child punished for her insolence.”

My mother’s voice is so full of venom when she answers it’s all I can do not to wince. “Don’t push your luck, Master Ashsong. This is my business, and I ask you to attend to yours and nothing else.” She deflates slightly as she turns back to me, looking me over for a moment before lingering on the naked blade I still have in my hand. “Shay, leave this hall now. I don’t want to see you again until the morning. We’ll settle this then.”

“Mother –”

“NOW!!!” Her roar’s so ferocious that I very nearly drop my sword as I stumble back, Roe having to scramble so I don’t bowl him over too. It’s been a very long time since she’s yelled at me like this, with such absolute anger and hurt, and it’s both terrifying and heart-breaking to witness so I can’t help retreating from it now. For the first few steps I’m a little off balance, but I’ve regained control again once I’m descending the steps, finally remembering myself enough to sheathe my sword again.

It's not until I reach the bottom that I realise how deathly quiet it’s gotten in the hall all of a sudden, many of the revellers have stopped what they’re doing, a few with cups still halfway to lips or pieces of food hovering uneaten, all eyes turned to watch my descent. I barely slow for a moment, taking a deep breath and keeping my head held high as I try to plaster a smile on my lips that feels treacherously false, and from the looks of those nearest to me it certainly doesn’t convince anyone else either. I can feel the eyes on my back all the way, my mother’s stare drilling into me, and I think Ashsong’s too, more like daggers and it sets by skin itching and makes me want to draw again. I just keep walking, and all the way I hear Roe keeping up behind me.

Nobody steps out to intercept me, despite the clear concern on several faces, and I try to give reassuring nods to those closest to me, but it’s no more successful than my smile. I reach the doors without incident and this time once I’ve pulled one open I don’t even bother closing it behind me, just stalking into the relative dark of the courtyard. I hear Roe pull the door to behind me instead, and I’m thankful because as soon as I hear that click of the latch my knees give out.

Suddenly it’s impossibly hard to breath and I stay there gasping, doubled up and clasping my chest as choke and splutter while the tears come unbidden. I don’t vomit, but my stomach’s roiling all the same, I feel sick to my very bones, and in a way I think it might be better if I did puke, it might be purging. But nothing’s rising, I just keep forcing down breaths that suddenly taste impossibly bitter.

Roe’s quick to come to me, crouching to put his hand on the back of my neck, gentle but firm, and he rubs, oh so careful, while his free hand gently curls around my arm, gives the slightest squeeze of reassurance. “Come on, Shay. Get it together. You’re needed very badly now. Your mother may not see it but she needs you more than ever.”

“What the … what the fuck am I going to do, Roe? She won’t listen to me. She’s blinded by her own honour, she can’t see past saving face and it’s going to get her killed. She’ll suffer worse than anyone. I have to do something but what the hell can I do?”

“Whatever you can, Shay. Like always. I’m with you to the end, you know that.”

Slowly I’m able to rein it all back in, my breathing slowing and strength returning, and finally I can swipe my sleeve across my eyes and spit, trying in vain to get rid of that taste that by rights shouldn’t even be in my mouth. Finally I bring one foot up and start to push myself upright, and when Roe starts to help me I don’t shake him off.

“All right, boss. What are we doing?”

The way ahead is suddenly so clear, but it’s a bloody scary idea all the same. I know for a fact he’s not going to like it at all, but there’s no other way we can make this work. “Something really fucking stupid.”

He frowns at me, more thoughtful than confused, and says nothing as he falls into step with me as I make a beeline across the courtyard towards the barracks. Garnon’s already there at the door, but I can tell it was less in expectation than simply their intention to join us in the mess hall. They stop where they are, blinking a little in surprise, and their eyes get a little wider when they see the look on my face. “Oh … that can’t have gone well, then.”

“What are you talking about? You can’t have had any idea what I was about to do.”

“That’s a poor joke, surely. I know you too well, Shay. You’ve been all out of sorts ever since we got back, especially after we heard Tarrow’s story. I knew you’d do something before the night was out, I just didn’t know what. But I’ve got a pretty good idea now.” He drops into step with us once I’ve brushed past him through the door.

“So what am I thinking, then?” I ask as I lead the way straight down the main corridor, bypassing the dorms as I head straight for the storehouse in back. The temperature drops long before we reach the end of the passage, passing into spaces hewn directly into the hard granite of the mountain itself.

“Whatever it is I’m not going to be too thrilled by it, but I’m with you all the same.” Garnon shrugs. “What else are friends for?”

That brings me up short, and they both stumble a little at my sudden halt. I look at Garnon for a long moment, finally having to smile, I’m so genuinely touched. He’s a difficult one most of the time, and our relationship has frequently been so problematic, that it makes me feel quite touched that he thinks of me so fondly. I give his shoulder and a good tight squeeze, doing the same for Roe after another beat. “Thank you. Both of you.”

“Stow it, boss.” Garnon growls, scowling a little. Not really surprising, he’s never been one for affection. Even so, he still places a hand over mine and squeezes.

Giving them both a last little pat, I simply nod and carry on, heading into the store and navigating around lines of stacked boxes and sacks and crates of supplies that have accumulated in here over the years since we took up residence. Turning one last right, I find a small holding area’s been arranged back here, the halfling sat on a little box, still chained and collared but slouched back with his feet up, seeming surprisingly comfortable despite the circumstances. Almost like he’s been expecting this. He doesn’t acknowledge our approach, but the corner of his mouth ticks up just the slightest all the same.

Terue jolts upright as we appear, hand going to the sword at his hip in a flash, but he doesn’t draw when he sees who it is, already relaxing again. “Damn it, Shay, you gave me a start. I wasn’t expecting anyone for another hour. I thought you was someone coming to mount some ill-advised rescue.”

Clearwood snorts at that, drawing a particularly ire-filled glare from his guard, but otherwise he remains as he is. Turning back to us, Terue rolls his eyes, and the smile I affect feels a hell of a lot more convincing than the one I tried when I left the mess hall. “He ain’t been a very enjoyable guest, this one. All he does is sit there and give me the odd funny look. I thought Silver Order wizards were supposed to be all fancy. I was expecting some decent conversation.”

That one gets Garnon chuckling, and I join him, which sets Terue off too. Roe simply gives his own cocked smile, already leaning back into the wall with his arms folded, just waiting. Hoping we won’t have to do anything stupid, I expect. He’s surely caught up with what I plan to do. I just have to clear the way first.

“Don’t worry about it.” I give Terue a little nudge with my elbow. “Your friends have got you covered. You can head off, I’m going to stick around here for a while until your relief arrives. I have a few questions for our short-arsed guest here. You get yourself over to the hall before all the drink’s gone, eh?”

He frowns, a little surprised. “But I was told to –”

“It’s okay.” I put my arm around his shoulders, companionable as I can be. “My mother sent me personally, so this must be important. I’ve got this.”

For a moment he looks like he’s going to object, like he’s seen right though me, and I can feel a low, cold thing settling in my gut as I start to worry I might have to hurt someone I care about on the way out of here. I’m not sure I can do it, not to Terue. He’s just too nice. I start to consider maybe just levelling with him, telling him what Tarrow told us about Ashsong, what we’ve gotten involved with. Maybe he’d even be with us, but I don’t know if it would be worth taking the chance in case he isn’t after all.

But then he shrugs, smiling again, jovial even. “Sure. I got a mighty thirst on, anyway. You’re sure you got this? I mean I can stick around if you reckon you might need an extra hand.”

“I think between the three of us we can handle one halfling mage. Garnon can match anything this one has. He did bind him in the first place.”

“Oh yeah, sure.” Terue nods, grinning wider. “Okay, then. Don’t take too long though, okay? I’ll try and save you a few cups’ worth of the best for when you’re done, but I can’t make any promises, y’know?”

“Sure, that’d be great.” I give his shoulder a gentle thump as he slips past me, and he nods again in return before giving Garnon’s arm a companionable slap and then treats Roe to the same on the way out. I try not to be too conspicuous watching him head out of sight, then wait a good stretch until I can be confident he’s gone, at least so long as he really bought it. If he didn’t then this could get tricky.

Clearwood sits up now, letting his feet to dangle just above the floor as he turns to face us. He looks so quietly confident now it almost gives me pause, but of course he says nothing. With the collar active he can’t utter a word, any more than he could work any spells with his fingers. I turn to Garnon, who looks right back, and for a moment I wonder if perhaps he isn’t so caught up after all. But then he cocks a wary brow and lets go a long sigh before weaving a little sigil and muttering under his breath, and the collar simply springs open again.

Taking a deep breath, Clearwood works his head around a little, as though the collar’s been chafing him these past few hours. Then he clears his throat, looking at me again, and says, cool and matter-of fact: “Well that took longer than I expected. Did you have a crisis of conscience out there, perhaps?”

“Knock it off, Clearwood. I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing this for my mother, she’s lost in this thing and she can’t see a way out, so I have to help her myself. Which unfortunately means I have to betray her.”

“Of course. It would help if we had an army on our side, or even just a few solid warriors. Perhaps my friends would have served. How very unfortunate, therefore, that you seem to have killed most of them already.”

“Really? I doubt the woman you hired to lead that nifty little band of yours would really be that easy to kill, so until I see a body she’s still out there as far as I’m concerned. And that golem could probably take an army apart all by itself, so we won’t exactly be hurting for manpower if it comes to it.” I fix him with the most contemptuous look I can muster. “That is if you can actually find them in the first place, of course. Which I’m not so supremely confident about to tell you the truth.”

He doesn’t rise to the bait, indeed he barely even cocks a brow in response, even smiling a little more. “Oh, I have a pretty good idea where they would be, or at least where to start looking. Of course, right now I might find it a little difficult to aid you.” He raises his hands, wrists still manacled tight.

Tightening my jaw, I ignore the obvious bait and simply turn to Garnon, whose eyes narrow at me instantly. “Oh come on, now. You can’t really be expecting him to just –”

“Just do it.” I try not to hiss it with too much venom, but he still stiffens enough for me to wonder if he might have a change of heart about all of this. But he simply scowls and crouches in front of the halfling, reaching for his manacled wrists.

Roe looks similarly non-plussed by this development, arms still folded tight and with a decidedly complex look on his face now. “You’re really sure about this, Shay? These people have been our enemies ever since we first attacked them in Hocknar. Do we really expect them to suddenly start working with us? I’m with you anyway, but I’m not too convinced this really is the smart move.”

“Honestly? I’m not convinced either. This might be a terrible idea, but I don’t have another one that actually works. For all I know the rest of them really are dead, and all we’re doing is stealing a prisoner and a bit of plunder and then running away. Or maybe they’ll kill us the moment we show our faces, which would lead to an unfortunately similar result in the long run, although it might also be some kind of poetic irony. But I can’t just stand by and let my mother destroy herself, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. Could you?”

He doesn’t answer me, but his look says it all. He growls under his breath, no words, just a relatively non-committal sound, then freezes as he looks past me. “Ah …”

I turn sharply and follow his gaze, pretty much freezing too the moment I see what’s surprised him. Tarrow’s stood a few metres away, watching us quietly, looking like he’s just ducked round the boxes to join us, and there’s a whole mess of conflicting emotions racing across his face right now, but he doesn’t say anything. I chance a quick side-eye at Roe and he’s as stumped as I am, and while I’m scrambling to try and find the right words to placate him, to make this seem like anything other than what it is, nothing’s coming to me.

Then I hear the metallic clunk and clatter of manacles and chains hitting the floor and I know any chance we might have had of covering evaporates. Tarrow’s eyes flicker down for a moment, taking it all in, then shoot back to mine. He sets his jaw.

“Tarrow …” I stop, still stumped. I still can’t string two words together, and if I couldn’t have attacked Terue before I know I can’t do anything now. Not Tarrow. He’s reckless and he’s frequently impossible and he’s definitely as stupid as any lad his age can wilfully be, but he’s a good kid. I couldn’t do anything to hurt him.

“I knew something was wrong the moment you left the hall.” He raises the tankard in his left hand and the substantial jug in his right, which sloshes noisily, still pretty full, I’d wager. “I thought you just needed cheering up. Didn’t reckon you might do this.”

Licking my lips, I raise my hand very slowly indeed towards Roe and carefully wave him down. I don’t need to see him to know he’s even now making the subtlest job he can of going for his sword in the hope of nipping this in the bud before it starts, and I can’t let him do it any more than I could try it myself. I hear his subtle hiss as he resigns himself to listening to me, and there’s a tiny bit of relief in that at least. “Tarrow, you spent time with them before we rescued you. You told us what they said. You know as well as me that this whole thing is fucked, we’ve done something terrible and we have to fix it before it goes so far that there’s nothing we can do to repair the damage. I know you’re with me in this.”

He watches me for several painfully long, loaded moments, so long that I start to itch all the same, start thinking about how I might have to go for my sword after all, take the chance I can cut him down while he’s still got both hands full. I know I’m better than he is, I’ve taught him most of what he knows myself, but even so he’s close enough that he won’t make it that easy if I give him a chance, and we haven’t got time for this. I’ll have to kill him and do it fast.

Then he just shrugs and lets loose a deep sigh. “Of course I am. You’re just bloody lucky it was me followed you down here and not one of the others.”

I breathe out heavy at that, almost slump I’m suddenly so relieved. Roe’s still tense, it takes him a few moments to relax again, as though he suspects Tarrow might be thinking of trying something after all, but I’m convinced he’s on the level. I’ve known this boy his whole life so I can read him like a book. He’s being honest. I’m just thanking my lucky stars that he was already making his own way to the same decision.

“All right,” He sets everything down by the wall out of the way, then looks back to me. “What exactly are we planning on doing, then?”

“Well, we’ll have to work fast. Right now most of our people are distracted, but that can’t last, and my mother’s too smart to think that I’m just going to let this rest. And that’s if Ashsong doesn’t just decide to take matters into his own hands anyway, which wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest.”

“So what are we doing then?”

Thoughtful now, I look to the others, considering what options we actually have right now. “Garnon, what’s been done with all that gear we brought up out of the cart? Our so-called prize, I mean.”

“The supplies went with our own feed and food, but their gear’s still in here. The plan was to distribute it amongst our survivors and the dead’s kin in the morning. Why?”

“I need you and Tarrow to gather it up. Roe and I are going to go with Clearwood now, find his people, hopefully he’ll be able to convince them to welcome us into their fold without killing us on sight. You can transport everything and Tarrow together, can’t you?”

“In theory, I suppose I can.” They don’t seem anywhere near as convinced as they sound. “I might have to make a couple of trips out of it, to be honest. There’s quite a lot of it.”

“We’ll need it all, though. It’s as much a good faith payment as anything else right now. I have a feeling without it there won’t be a whole lot of goodwill going round to help us win them over.”

Garnon blinks, a little surprised by the thought, but then they nod, clearly seeing the sound reasoning in it. “All right, I’ll do what I can. I should be able to home in on you easy enough once you’re gone, so long as you’re within range. You’re sure you’ll be all right in the meantime? We don’t really know what these people will do.”

“Yes, but that’s the price we pay for trying to fix things after we’ve already pretty comprehensibly fucked them up. Potentially having to pay it is still better than doing nothing.”

He nods and walks away, giving Tarrow an affectionate thump on the shoulder as he passes him on the way out. The boy stays where he is for a moment, not quite looking at me, seeming sheepish now. For a moment I hesitate, trying to think of something I can say to buck him up, then I just decide words won’t be enough so I just pull him into a tight hug. For a few moments he’s stiff, still uncertain, but he melts, finally returning it. “Thank you.” I whisper into his ear before letting go.

“Sure.” He nods when I let him go, looks us all over for a moment. “Watch yourself out there. Just cuz they ain’t what we thought don’t mean I trust these people yet, okay?” He gives me a sharp look as punctuation and then ducks out before I have a chance to respond.

Clearwood’s rubbing his wrists, watching me thoughtfully, his expression still unreadable, but I have a feeling he’s deciding whether or not he can fully trust me. Far as I can tell he doesn’t have much choice under the circumstances, and he must come to this same conclusion because he finally nods and offers up both open hands to the pair of us. “Shall we, then?”

Roe gives me a cool look and I can tell he’s still not too convinced by this fresh endeavour, and I can’t blame him, I’m seeing plenty of holes in the logic myself. I take one of the halfling’s hands in my own, and after a loaded moment Roe’s frown deepens as he takes the other, clenching his jaw as he gives me another wary look. For my part I simply take a deep breath and prepare myself for what I know is coming next.

It's really no different from jumping with Garnon, but it’s still one of the most unpleasant experiences I’ve ever had in my life. The instant, crippling nausea is matched by the sudden disorientation as we suddenly land in what, for several harrowing moments, is a completely alien environment, mostly darkness with skinny, largely leafless trees all around, dried leaves underfoot. I double over, fighting the urge to vomit again and for several agonising moments I’m convinced I’m going to be defeated, but the wave passes at last and finally I’m able to straighten up again, stumbling for a moment before my balance finally properly returns. Then I finally realise that it’s a little too bright out here to just be due to my own nightvision.

Turning around, I see a substantial campfire is blazing nearby, with a few modest sleeping spots set out around it, and, for some strange reason, several items of clothing hanging from the empty branches overhead. I’m about to remark on this incongruous detail to Roe, who’s still doubled over like I was and, as I watch, he empties his bowels on the dry leaves underfoot. Then something sets my natural internal warnings screaming and I feel the adrenaline start surging through me.

A body is charging straight at me from the makeshift camp, low and silent but for the heavy footfalls pounding towards me through the leaves, and they’re on me before I can even think about drawing my sword, even if I was inclined given our current intentions. I start to speak, wanting to offer apologies and beg them for the benefit of the doubt before they attack, but I don’t have the chance.

The woman from the bridge catches me low and rough with her shoulder in my side as I’m turning and I go down hard, not reacting fast enough to check my fall. I roll the instant I’m down and this saves me from getting cut down right here as her sword thumps into the ground where I would’ve been lying. I scramble to regain my footing but she’s already coming again, slashing fast and savage with a greater fury than I ever though she was capable of in her eyes now, and it’s all I can do to duck out of the way to avoid getting cut to pieces as she presses on me.

She’s changed some since I saw her last. Gone is that big, heavy-looking duster coat, she’s stripped down to a simple pair of britches, untucked linen shirt and a pair of thick, fur-trimmed winter boots, sleeves loose and hands bare now, like I caught her in the middle of dressing. Her hair is wild and unkempt, flopping over her eyes as she moves, but she flicks it out of the way with a simple, angry shake of her head and there’s plenty of focus in her despite the rage blazing in her eyes.

I keep my hands up, reluctant to go for my sword because this really isn’t what I came for, and I know if I draw I’ll have to use it. “I’m not here to fight. I swear this is not what it looks like, it’s not an attack, we’re here to help. Please, just stop and let me talk.”

“Fuck you.” she snarls, although she holds all the same, sword up and ready but no longer swinging for me. By this point Roe’s regained enough of his composure to start forward, but as he approaches three arrows hit in quick succession just an inch short of his foot, that Fir Bolg archer already drawing a fourth aimed right at him. This close there’s no way she’ll miss.

At the same time a crunching of leaves on my other side catches my attention and I look sidelong to find that tengu cleric taking up a position ten or so feet away. He’s not quite poised for violence yet, but his face is tight, and I see the head of his great big warhammer flaring brightly in the dark.

“Kesla, stop!” Clearwood shouts, circling us carefully, clearly unsure what to do under the current circumstances but determined to intervene all the same. “Listen to her!”

Okay … I guess that’s her name then, I did wonder about that. Kesla. I like it, it’s simple and easy to remember. I take a few cautious steps back, still raising my hands, offering no threat but fully prepared to defend myself if I have to. “Yes, please, listen to me. I’m trying to help. I don’t want a fight.”

Eyes narrowing, she adjusts her grip on that intimidating sword, looking me up and down, watchful and wary. Clearly trying to sniff out the trap. I get the feeling this could escalate again very quickly if I don’t shut this down right now.

“Ashsong’s summoned someone to collect your cargo. I don’t know how long it’ll take them to arrive, but I doubt they’ll wait long, so we probably don’t have much time. Right now it’s locked up in a vault in the keep at Heldereth, and I think I can get you inside so you can retrieve it, preferably killing him while you’re at it. If you go in there on your own you’ll be facing a small army, but if you take us too we might be able to improve your odds.”

This Kesla frowns deeper, still restless. She’s itching for a fight, and I don’t blame her, there’s still a part of me that still wants the same, but this needs to happen the right way.

“What about your mother? You’re Shayline, right? Shayline Swift-Kill, which means Min the Reckless is your mother. She’s got quite the reputation, I doubt she’d be very happy about that. Don’t reckon you walking us in there’d be too conducive to her cooperation.”

“Maybe not, but there’s a chance. From what I’ve seen of you this past week, I doubt you’ll just sit back and let this go. So you’re going in with or without us, but this way you might actually get what you want, instead of all dying badly, and we get what we want too. Even if most of my people don’t know that’s what they actually want yet.”

“And how exactly are we supposed to trust you, really? You’ve spent this past week trying to kill us, and today you damn near pulled it off. That don’t inspire a very trustful working relationship.”

“It’s just me, and my friend here, and two more are going to jump in here in a minute with the rest of your stuff. Which is why I would very much appreciate it if you didn’t try to kill them the moment they appear, because I am trying really hard to convince you that I’m sincere.”

She watches me for a long, drawn out moment, eyes narrowed to slits and jaw set tight, sword poised to gut me with one stroke. She’s coiled like a spring, she’ll attack on the first sign of a real threat, so I keep stock still, waiting her out.

“Big Man, that true? It’s just these two? Nobody else out there?”

“As far as I can sense, she is telling the truth. We are alone with the exception of this half-orc and hobgoblin.” I’m genuinely surprised by how close the golem is to me, that deep, rumbling, strangely hollow voice is directly behind me, and as I turn, very carefully indeed, to look that way, I realise it’s less than three feet away. If I’d even thought about attacking it would have crushed me in an instant.

“Shit.” I breathe, louder than intended all the same.

“Yeah, he does that. You so much as twitch wrong and he turns you into a smear. Yes, you got the hob, right?”

“Indeed I do, boss.” the archer confirms, her bow still drawn and the arrow unwaveringly aimed directly at Roe’s face. I’m instantly reminded of what I saw her do to some of mine over a long distance yesterday, I’ve no doubt he’d be dead in an instant if she loosed.

“Good. All right then, Shayline Swift-Kill.” She lowers her sword to hang one-handed at her side as she straightens up, but her grip is tight, ready, jaw clenched, the tension still coming off her in waves. “Master Clearwood seems to trust you, although the gods know why, cuz I see no reason at all not to just cut you down right now and take my chances with the rest of your people in the morning. I’m like a crossbow on a hair trigger, and if you don’t play absolutely straight with me I promise you’ll hurt real bad before you die.”

Garnon chooses this moment to jump through with two packs in one hand and another slung over his shoulder, Tarrow holding the other hand and wearing that big duffel bag I saw before on his own shoulder with more packs in his hand. The boy doesn’t even try to hold it in when they arrive, simply dropping to his knees the moment they touch down and emptying his stomach with a weak curse. At least the dragonhalf has composure enough to take in the situation as it presents itself, dropping the bags instantly along with their staff and slowly raising his hands, keeping their face neutral as they let out a slow breath. “Okay … everybody just stay calm, please. We’re all on the same side …”

“Yeah, we’re still establishing that, it would seem.” I take another deep breath. “Garnon, Tarrow, this is Kesla. She’s in charge.”

Tarrow spits, then winces as he takes in the scene and realises just how dangerous that little gesture could actually be given the current mood. He slips the duffel off slowly and raises his own hands, slowly straightening up but wisely remaining on his knees. “Yeah, I got that impression all right. Not sure if it’s really a pleasure seeing you again so soon.”

Kesla cocks a brow at that, but there might be the start of a smile forming in the corners of her mouth now as she recognises her recent prisoner. Finally, ever so slowly, she starts to relax, loosening the grip on her sword a little before turning to me, giving me a long, close look, more appraising, now. I just look right back, still wary but finally starting to relax myself. Might be this could work out after all.

“Yes, reckon you can ease off on that bowstring now.”

The Fir Bolg gives her a long look, not necessarily reluctant, in truth I don’t know what to make of her really. Finally she lets out her own long sigh and relaxing her draw, slipping the arrow loose and returning it to the noticeably full quiver on her hip. Roe lets out something close to a gasp and I realise he’s been essentially holding his breath this whole time. On my other side the tengu straightens up too, letting his hammer rest across his shoulder, but his eyes are still glued on me.

“Thank the gods.” I breathe, looking at the golem again. “Can I move, then?”

“Sure,” Kesla allows “Long as the first thing you do is drop your sword-belt and relieve yourself of any other weapons you might be carrying. Your friends too.”

That makes me wince, but I was expecting it, so I just turn to my friends and give them each a nod. None of them look particularly thrilled about it either, but to their credit they don’t argue, and Tarrow doesn’t even scowl first like I would’ve expected. I go slow and easy as I unbuckle my belt and let my sword and long-knife clatter at my feet, then slip the two daggers in my boots out and let them drop too. Then I just shrug at Kesla.

She watches me for several moments, likely making sure she believes I’m now completely unarmed, and maybe it’s that subtle feeling of discomfort in me now, being essentially helpless at the hands of a superior fighter, that convinces her. She looks at the others to make sure they’re being as accommodating, and what she sees must please her too because she lets an easy, somewhat relieved sigh go, then turns to the halfling. “All right, Wenrich. This was clearly your bright idea. What now?”

Clearwood frowns, somewhat caught off guard, I’ll wager. “Ah, yes. Well …” He looks to me now. “Mistress Shayline?”

“Please, if we’re going to be working together, just call me Shay. It’s what my friends call me.”

He blinks at that, and even Kesla seems a little taken aback. She cocks her head, looking me over again, and something in her expression now makes me feel a little funny. I turn away from that gaze quick, turning back to my friends again. “Garnon, is that everything?”

“Almost. One more trip, I should be able to make it myself. Best go now though, just in case.”

“Okay, then. Pick up a pack or two of supplies while you’re at it, looks like these folks could do with a meal too.”

Garnon cocks a brow, then nods. He looks around for a moment, face unreadable again, then mutters under his beath and steps back as that weird emptiness seems to open up again for an instant, not around him but almost through him, and then he’s just gone again. Nothing but the flutter of a few loose leaves to betray his passage.

“What the … Kesla?” We all jump at once at the exclamation, and I turn back to their camp to find a pale face peering out of a tightly bundled pile of furs and blankets, a headful of unruly black curls and a pair of wide blue eyes that seem vaguely familiar to me now. There’s someone in there with them, and it takes me a moment to realise it’s the grey-furred bakaneko knife-fighter from before. He looks less surprised, but still wary.

“Yeah?” Kesla says after a moment, finally finding her voice again.

“What the fuck is going on?”