Every step we took away from Old Tom’s Fall, the worse I felt. Which was stupid. We had made it past the Demon. I should be relieved, ecstatic.

…But now…she knew. And I hadn’t been able to look at her face since we started up the far side of the valley.

What would I see there? Fear? Well, that one wasn’t likely. But disgust? Revulsion? I hadn’t had the balls to look.

We walked in silence until the forest lightened again, the canopy becoming slightly less oppressive.

It was only then that I realized I had never let go of Blair’s hand. That almost pulled a dark chuckle out of me. Great timing, overcoming, at least for a moment, my distaste for touch only for the person I was touching to likely be disgusted with me.

You don’t know that. That’s your fear talking, and it’s often full of shit.

My common sense wasn’t necessarily wrong, but it was fighting against a fear I’d had for most of my life. It was losing.

Blair stopped as I let go of her hand, and I mirrored her.

She turned to me, and while I considered looking away, I resisted the urge and met her stare.

The red hadn’t finished bleeding from her eyes, and swirls of it still danced in her irises.

Her expression was…blank, her poker face completely up.

My mind immediately started coming up with the worst things that mask could be hiding, but Blair spoke before it could really get into gear.

“I’m sorry.”

I blinked, my brain stuttering to a stop. “Huh?”

Blair met my eyes, and her mask cracked. “I’m sorry. If I hadn’t stopped, he might not have had time to talk so much. To share all that. It wasn’t his to share. I’m sorry.”

My mouth worked, but no sound came out. “Ah- I-“ I laughed, the sound equal part relieved and crazed. Blair raised a concerned brow. I held up a hand as my laughter died out. “I was, I was psyching myself out with how you would react. Imaging the worst scenarios.”

Blair frowned. “How did you think I’d react?”

I shrugged. “Disgust mostly.”

Blair’s frown deepened. “Learning that helping my Pack cost you more than I knew makes my debt greater. I would have to be a fool to feel different.”

Though I winced as she mentioned debt, her words still warmed my heart. I looked up at her and felt my eyes begin to well with tears. I quickly looked down. This whole thing felt… surreal. Like an out of place dream that would shatter if I acknowledged it.

Someone knew, and they didn’t turn away? It felt too good to be true, and I found myself instinctively waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Are you alright?” Blair asked.

I rubbed my eyes, then glared up at her. “No. Since as far as I’m concerned, your debt is paid. I would have died in the Straits if not for you. So I think that makes us even.”

Blair shook her head, her hair bouncing with the motion. “No. I wouldn’t have made it out either if you hadn’t stopped…whatever it was doing to our heads. And we’re only there because you are doing my Pack a favor.”

I scowled. “If we’ve saved each other’s lives, then I don’t think we should be keeping score.”

Blair was silent for several seconds, shook her head again, then turned back to the trail.

“I always keep track of my debts. Especially for my friends.” She started walking, but I was frozen in place.

…Friends.

I wiped at my eyes again, smiled, then followed after her.

~<>~<>~

I caught up to Blair but didn’t say anything. My emotions were all over the place, and I wasn’t sure what would come out if I opened my mouth.

Blair, it seemed, wasn’t so tongue-tied. “I’m going to have to go back eventually. I need to recover the body.”

I swallowed and wrestled my thoughts into order. “Alright…how.”

She shook her head. “I don’t know yet. But it’s something that is going to happen. We don’t leave our dead behind.”

I closed my eyes and nodded. “I guess we’ll need a priest. There’s one in Silver Spruce, but I’m not sure if he knows about the supernatural.”

Blair grunted. “We can go over the details later.”

“Okay. I-“ I trailed off as the trees parted.

“Alder! What is…” Blair stopped talking, and we both just stared.

I sagged in relief as, just like The Clearing, the hostile, hungry weight of the Pass was lifted from our shoulders.

In front of us, towering hundreds of feet into the air, its silver needles casting the ground ahead in a cool shade, was the Silver-Spruce.

“Rules, Alder?” Blair asked, her voice filled with hushed wonder.

I shook my head. “Just be nice. This is it. We made it.”

We walked forward. The Silver-Spruce was, well, a silver spruce tree of titanic proportions. Its branches stretched easily over a hundred feet out, the trunk many times that.

The thing should have been visible from miles around, but only those standing in its presence could see it.

Magic hung thick in the air, thicker than anywhere else I had ever been, and the fresh scent of spruce hung in the air, mixed with something cooler.

Wind swept through its branches, causing the needles to rustle and let out a sound like tiny wind chimes.

Motes of silver glimmered in the air, a sharp contrast against the verdant grass.

-The base of the tree, which two dozen people linking hands wouldn’t have been able to encircle, was pitch black, with swirls of silver running through it like currents in a river.

We stared for a while, neither of us saying a word.

I couldn’t say how long we stood there, reveling in the sight, but when I finally looked away, I felt like I’d gotten a whole night's sleep, and my aches and pains had the edge taken off them.

Blair stirred a moment later. “What…how does no one know about this?”

“You gotta be here to see it,” I said with a stretch.

“…Silver Spruce,” she said, tasting the word.

“Yeah, clearly someone knew, considering the town's name.”

Blair scanned the area around the tree, only then noticing the small cottage a few dozen feet away from the trunk.

She blinked, obviously taken aback. The cottage was a single story with an aged wooden roof and moss-covered brick walls, with spotless windows on each side of the door. But despite the moss, the home didn’t rundown, just…natural. As if it had been there so long that it had merged with its surroundings.

“The woman who can give you your vouchers is inside.”

Blair didn’t move at first, but after a second, she shook herself and started for the cottage.

I followed behind, feeling…peaceful.

Blair hesitated as we reached the stone doormat, which had the words ‘*Something Clever’* carved out in a flowing script.

“While she knows we’re here, she appreciates manners.”

Blair raised her fist and gave three firm knocks. The magic in the air trembled slightly. /Huh, what was that about?/

The door immediately flew open, reviling the stout ghost on the other side. Old Gran smiled, her dark skin laced with smile lines and leathered with sun and time.

“A guest? Well, Alder. I never thought I’d see the day when you brought a girl to my doorstep.”

I rolled my eyes. “Hi Gran, it’s good to see you too.”

Her smile widened, and she stepped forward to wrap me in a tight hug. I returned it, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath.

She smelled of spruce and soil and…nostalgia. After several long seconds, I pulled away. She stepped back but kept her hands on my shoulders. She looked me over, her dark eyes scrutinizing.

“You look, tired boy.”

I chuckled. “I am.”

She nodded sharply, then stepped back and turned to Blair. She extended a semi-translucent hand.

Blair shook it. She kept her face straight, but I could tell she was surprised by her hand not slipping through.

Evidently, Old Gran could tell as well. “Ghosts can touch the living, just takes a bit of doing on our part. What’s your name.”

“Blair Northwoods.”

Gran quirked a silver brow. “A Northwoods? Since Alder brought you, you can call me Old Gran.”

Gran stepped back and beckoned us forward. “Come in!” We followed behind as she marched towards her small kitchenette. “Can I interest you in some tea?”

“Please,” Blair said, her voice polite.

The inside of the cottage was well organized, with everything from the spice rack to the books having a label and a proper place.

The north wall sported a quaint fireplace that crackled merrily below a thick iron teapot.

“If you're wondering why a ghost has tea and a kitchen, it’s because she figured out how to taste.”

Blair blinked. “How-“ Gran cut in with a snort. “More ghosts should have figured it out. Most can smell things so long as they don’t think about it too much. Taste is just a short hop from that. But most don’t stick around long enough to figure it out. Or they just don’t bother.”

“She’s saying she’s old,” I whispered. A pillow floated up from a nearby chair and flung itself at me.

I caught it with a laugh.

“I heard that, you brat!”

“I have no clue what you mean.”

Grumbling, Old Gran pulled a set of mugs out. The teapot floated over from the fire to pour itself into the mugs.

Gran gestured to the small wooden table in the corner. “Sit while I make this.”

“Yes, boss.” I pulled off my pack and relaxed into a chair, sighing with relief.

Blair mirrored me, minus the sighing. The jerk probably didn’t even notice the weight of her pack.

Blair glanced at me and frowned. “Why are you glaring at me?”

“You cheat.”

“What?”

“Lugging your pack around without a care in the world. Disgraceful.”

Blair tilted her back to look down her nose at me. “Sounds like you're jealous.”

“Damn straight.”

“Maybe you could lift more if you weren’t just skin and bones,” Gran said, not even turning to look at me.

“Hey! I don’t need that from you!”

The old hag just laughed.

Blair’s gaze flicked to the old ghost, a question clear on her face.

“Old Gran is…well, old. And I’m saying that in a dignified way, Gran!” The woman grumbled, but the cushions didn’t take aim.

“She’s been here longer than any of the others. She’s practically a nature spirit at this point. And all the other ghosts that aren’t crazy respect her. Well, some of the crazies might respect her too. I haven’t asked.”

“Well, you’re really…what’s the word? Hyping me up? Is that it?”

“Yeah, that’s how you use that.”

Old Gran gave a satisfied chuckle. “That’s right! I’m with it.”

I winced. “Only people who aren’t with it say they're with it.”

She snorted. “That sounds like something someone who isn’t with it would say.”

I scowled at her as she came to the table, the mugs floating along with her.

“So,” she said, pulling out her chair. “As happy as I am to see you again, what brings you to my doorstep so early? And with a guest?”

I took a deep breath. “War. A summit.” I nodded to Blair. “And an ally for the town if her pack gets a vote.”

Gran’s face drained of warmth. “Oh. I see.”

I picked up my mug and took a sip. Jasmine. I relaxed back into my seat.

Gran turned her attention to Blair, her dark eyes severe. “So. You want vouchers.”

Blair nodded.

Gran laced her fingers together and slowly tapped her hands on the table. “There are a lot of questions I could ask you-- if you’ll vote with the interest of the town in mind. If you’ll stand with the people here. If you’ll keep Alder here safe, as fruitless as that is. But there’s only one question that really matters.”

She leaned forward, and a sudden pressure filled the room.

There was a difference between beings that had been on this world for a few dozen years and a few hundred. There was a weight to that much time, a gravity that was unmistakable.

That gravity now pulled my gaze to Old Gran with a constant tug at my mind, telling me that I was in the room with something significant.

She met my eyes and spoke, the cottage groaning with her words. “Do you trust her, Alder?”

I tore my eyes away from Gran to look at Blair. Her deep blue eyes, still tinted with the faintest flecks of red, stared back.

…I didn’t need to think for more then a second to realize I’d already made up my mind.

“I do.”

Old Gran clapped, and the tension broke. “Well then! It would seem you have your voucher!”

Blair spoke without looking away from me, her gaze intense. “It would seem so.”

The End Of Part Two