The first dinner in the field was interesting. The round-ears brought a decent cook with them who was now making food for all three races: human, elven, and hobgoblin. I noticed that all three groups sat apart from one another. It would be good if people started to mingle before we arrived at Blazroggle since we'll have to work together once we arrive. Getting the three races to work with each other was a small concern compared to some of my other concerns.

I had one fear on this expedition that outweighed even the wyverns: Willam meeting Cat Rider. The first occasion where they met was at dinner. The two-footed ones were deep into their bowls of beef stew when Prince Willam and Duke Sven arrived at our campfire just before dusk.

"Can we invite ourselves to your campfire?" the red-haired Duke asked. "I brought really good brandy."

Wren looked at Cat, "your call, Cat."

Ever since we left elven territory, Cat had worn his hood up. All you could see was the black cat mask, his green eyes, his strong chin, and a few wisps of his dyed hair, which he wore short. He spoke with an elvish accent and used elvish idioms. If you could believe there was such a thing as a short elf, Cat's disguise worked.

"We need to be able to work together," Cat stated. "We should also share the information we recently gained on wyverns. Fewer people will die if we do. And we need to tell the hobgoblin captain since the goblins have suffered high losses." Cat frowned as he looked up at his uncle the duke and his brother the prince, "did you not recognize that veiled, opaque, and indirect hint? Sit down, already. I'm getting a sore neck just from looking up at you. I'm Cat Rider, by the way. You've met Roaming Wren and Fuzzy. The one with the long braided hair is Cloud Eye. The tall one with short hair is Motley Owl. You two must be Duke Sven and Prince Willam."

"That's right," the prince replied, studying Cat.

"So tell me, which one of you is the duke and which one is the prince?" Cat's face was carefully neutral with just a pinch of anticipation.

"What?" Willam was gobsmacked.

Cat nodded, smiling to himself. He stuffed the last of his stew into his mouth.

Wren swatted Cat on the arm and rolled her eyes, "Prince, You just fell for one of my brother's little pranks. I'll warn you now that you'll be a target if you're gullible."

"Ah," the duke raised an eyebrow, "so that's how it is." He chuckled, wondering if Willam had finally met his match.

"I'm curious," Willam recovered his composure, "why do all four of you wear those masks?"

"They do it to distract from the mask I always wear," Cat remarked. "I didn't ask them to. They did that on their own."

"So why do you wear a mask?" Willam asked bluntly.

"Willam, manners!" the duke chided. "Apologize."

"I'm not offended, Your Grace," Cat shrugged.

"No, I do apologize," Willam looked sincere. "That was tactless of me. I do need to remember to think before I speak."

"As I said, you gave me no offense," Cat pulled down his hood and undid the mask laces. "I wear a mask so people aren't forced to look at my hideous face." He fumbled for a moment to pull the mask off and revealed his face. It was covered with angry red burn scars that started in the upper left quarter. The scarring reached back to what remained of his left ear. Instead of a left eye, an eerie flickering flame burned inside of the eye socket.

"Merciful Matadee! What's wrong with your eye?" Willam stood up in shock, stepped back, and tripped over the tree stump that he had been sitting on. He landed on his rump, still gaping.

I could tell Cloud and Owl were working hard not to laugh. Wren just looked disgusted.

"Oh," Cat blinked, "the spell must have worn off. This will only take a second." He began to mutter an old language chant softly. At the same time, he held up his right hand and made a gesture. He dropped his head into his gloved left hand, which brushed past his left eye. When he lifted his head, a normal eye faced the world once again.

"What was that?" Willam demanded, eyes still wide.

"Even if I could tell you," Cat gave Willam a reassuring smile, "I doubt you would understand the explanation." He looked at the other elves, "would one of you please help me with my mask?"

Owl got up and walked behind Cat. He stretched out his hand, took the mask from Cat, and retied the laces. "Is that alright or is it too tight?"

"It's just about perfect, Owl. Thank you."

Owl grabbed Cat's hood and put it back up, "if you forget to wear this, your skin will start to blister again."

"Nag, nag, nag," Cat grumped, just for fun.

"Cat Rider," Owl chided

"Yes, Mother. Whatever you say, Mother."

Cloud Eye finally started laughing in earnest, unable to hold it in any longer.

"Might I ask about the hood and the blistering skin?" Duke Sven asked.

"Cat has what we call sun disease," Wren replied. "Even a few minutes of sunlight will cause red bumps to appear which will turn into painful blisters after one or two hours. He always wears a hood and long sleeves during the day."

"That sounds like quite an imposition," Willam said.

"Trust me," Cat said, "it's not a lot of fun."

"So, how did you acquire a lame leg?" Willam's tact was losing to his curiosity.

"It never completely recovered from the fire that scarred the rest of me," Cat said, looking and sounding unhappy. He was beginning to wilt from all the questions about his infirmities.

"No more questions," Motley Owl stood up and glared at the prince. "I care not that you are somebody's human princeling. You will stop now." Owl was angry, which was rare for him. "Every day he is in pain. The pain never stops, and the scars make it impossible to move. The only reason I have not called you out for the insult to my brother is that you are ignorant that you have offended." Owl clenched his fists, glowering at Willam. "I'm going for a walk," he stomped off into the twilight.

"Maybe you should follow him," Cat said to me, looking worried.

* He's walking away from camp, and he's well-armed. Leave him be. He never stays angry for long. He'll be back in one or two hours, back to his usual self and wanting to apologize for losing his temper. *

"He had a point," Willam sounded troubled. "My circumstances have made many things easy for me. As a result, I have a hard time remembering that many people don't have a good life free from hunger, pain, and overwork. I apologize for my thoughtlessness, Cat Rider."

"I can't fault you for being curious," my boy sounded weary. "Owl is my best friend and he appointed himself as my protector several years ago. We both grew up in Storm Eagle's house. The boys of the household sleep in two large rooms: one for those six to eleven years old and one for those twelve or older. The bullying and harassment are rough. Owl protected me from most of it.

"Before he got to be so big, Owl was on the receiving end of the hazing. He too survived a fire that took his family from him. He is scarred on his backside from his neck to his heels and down his arms. Like me, he spends every day in pain. He can't fully extend his left elbow or shoulder because of the burn scars.

A miasma of silence settled in until Cloud Eye dispelled it. "We were going to start talking about wyverns but got sidetracked. Shall we reconvene tomorrow?"

"Yes," Duke Sven nodded in agreement.

"Good, that will give me time to make some copies of what we found in Achflakalstrebr's Compendium," Cat slowly stood up grasping his walking stick as support.

"Wait," the duke looked excited, and so did the prince. "You mean the rare and impossible-to-find Lector Achflakalstrebr's Compendium of Races, Monsters, and Arcane Creatures?"

"Is it really that famous?" Cat was surprised by their reaction. "I know goblin scholars think highly of it but I didn't know it was famous outside of Gorgurak."

"Was the Compendium you used the first or revised edition?" The duke looked like he was on the verge of drooling.

"Revised edition with the appendix intact," Cat raised an eyebrow at the Nordweggians' reaction.

"I take it you made notes based on reading the copy in the Academy Library," Willam commented.

I looked at Cat, and Cat looked at me. "No, the Royal Gorgurak Library," Cat answered. "We met a retired librarian who used to work there while we were in Kizdengengar."

"I think I'm coming down with a bad case of envy," Prince Willam bit his lip.

"Me too, nephew." Then they both sighed in unison.