I couldn’t settle in the Picker band’s camp. Everything was so close to being normal…and yet not. The setting was the most familiar. The tents and the cook fires, the sounds of people knapping stone and carving bone, the background murmur of gossip, the smell of smoke and sweat and leather, the stares and quiet distance between me and everyone else. That was fine, manageable, expected. Things at the Seedling Palace had been the same—with a more beautiful, surreal backdrop.

The difference came with the people. The way items easily exchanged hands or a woman would step in to tend to the cooking when a child distracted the cook. The lack of separation between huntresses and tribes folk and religion; instead of three leaders there was only one. They shifted from skill to skill with little focus on mastery. I watched one person go from knapping to minding the children while teaching them about the goddess and Her temper before they left with a hunting party. It made my head spin never being quite sure if the people I was observing would follow the steps I knew or veer off somewhere completely unexpected.

Being surrounded by gray lips didn’t help either. Logically, I knew the Pickers wouldn’t beat me up and steal from me; not with Mishtaw’s warning or our bargain in place. Not when Prevna had told me story after story that made it clear Pickers were ordinary people who didn’t just sit waiting to ambush whatever unlucky tribe across their path. Not with Prevna being the one I could trust most.

But with years and years of being told how terrible Pickers were and the times they had ransacked the tribe, it was difficult focus solely on logic. To completely quell the unease that came from being in an unknown place with unknown people. I wished we could leave and continue the search for the relic, but I couldn’t deny that this band seemed to have the information we needed.

Prevna took to it all like a fish to water. She made her way through the camp as the afternoon wore on to evening, stopping over this person’s craftsmanship or that person’s unique way of doing something. The handful of children were drawn to her like moths to a flame and wasn’t long before she was pulled into a game of hide and seek. And the longer she spent playing with the kids the more the adults relaxed around her as well. No one approached me to play, though Prevna gave me a questioning look at one point. I shook my head and stayed where I was outside our tent. She could have her fun without me ruining the mood.

Still, it was satisfying to see the exact moment each of the band members went from viewing her as an intimidating whisper woman’s apprentice to seeing past the black lips and weapons. To seeing Prevna, herself. Outgoing, relentless, never without a teasing word or look. One by one they fell to her unique kind of charm and I couldn’t blame them for it. Not when she done the same to me—even if I had held out longer than a single afternoon.

There was only one thing that tempted me to plant myself in the middle of camp—so I couldn’t be ignored—and possibly ruin all of her hard work. Jika kept hovering around her more and more until they got to talking and then there was laughter. Which didn’t matter because Prevna talked and joked with everyone. Even if Jika was closer in age and height and could understand her background better than I ever could. Even if the most I ever got out of Prevna was a chuckle.

I scowled down at the throwing stones and sling I was busying myself with inspecting. Prevna wouldn’t appreciate me trying to control who she hung out with. We’d be leaving soon, a handful of days at most as long as the Fang band situation went as expected, and Jika would stay behind. Not me.

Prevna crouched in front of me as the Picker band was getting ready to serve the evening meal. “Stop sulking and come eat.”

I started bundling my things back where they belonged. “I’m not.”

She just gave me a long, knowing look. “Before you say we should eat our provisions, I’m going to remind you that a hot meal tastes better and this will help our supplies last. Besides, Harup offered and everyone is more willing to talk during a meal.”

I opened my mouth to protest that I hadn’t been about to suggest that when I realized it had been hovering as an option in the back of my mind. I pressed my lips together and glared off to the side.

I still saw her roll her eyes. “You do this with every new group we meet.”

I wanted to deny that too but, somehow, pointing out the one or two times I hadn’t allowed myself to settle comfortably on the side to watch made it feel like I’d be proving her point for her.

So, instead, I huffed out a breath and said, “Fine. For the mission.”

“For the mission.” Prevna grinned back at me before she pulled me to my feet and led me over to the right cooking fire.

We were served first. The Picker band didn’t have cushions to sit on but they did have mats made out long woven grass and pine needles. Prevna claimed one and, when I sat next to her, made sure our knees were touching. I shot her a look that said I didn’t need to be babied, she raised her eyebrows back at me, and when Jika sat on a mat across the fire I didn’t shift away. Prevna smiled again like she had won something and then it was my turn to roll my eyes at her.

The food was good. Roasted tubers and more leafy plants mixed with bits of rabbit meat. Prevna praised the cook’s skill for the meal and I added just enough agreement that they wouldn’t think she was lying.

At first the band was hesitant to talk in front of me but once they decided I was more interested in the food than judging what they had to say the conversation flowed easier. It ranged from common everyday problems to speculation about the Fang band.

Prevna waited until someone mentioned their next trip up the mountain to push the conversation to where we wanted it to go. “Do you often trade with the band in the fog?”

The speaker, an older woman who looked slightly embarrassed to have so easily brought up the topic, nodded. “Every three or so weeks to at least check in the warm season. We’re supposed to go back soon.”

“They probably thought we were you then when they signaled us a couple nights ago.” The band members carefully didn’t confirm or deny Prevna’s statement. “Do others know your schedule?”

The woman shrugged. “We haven’t told the other bands but they might have noticed.”

Harup, who turned out to be the spokesman Prevna had bargained with and the band leader’s partner, broke into the conversation. “All but the Fangs know better than to repurpose what we trade.”

Prevna asked, “Why?”

“They’d be stealing from their sons.” His answer was harsh, pointed.

The band leader, Nerco, patted him on the arm and added, “And they know better than to anger the inner valleys’ master.”

Prevna’s eyebrows drew together. “Master?”

Nerco set her empty bowl down. “Aye, mistress. Have you not heard how these mountains got their name?”

Prevna didn’t need to look at me to know I was itching to hear the tale. She smiled back at the band leader. “I thought it was from they looked. Broken spears jutting into the sky?”

Nerco shook her head. “There’s some resemblance yes, but that’s not the tale that’s passed from generation to generation, band to band, in these parts.”

Despite Nerco’s obvious lead into asking for the story Prevna pressed, “And it’s not because of some war? I thought there was story about a war where all the spears were broken in the end as a sign of peace?”

I could have elbowed her in the side. I refrained, and held my tongue, only because I knew that if I drew attention back to me they might remember they were sharing more information than they needed to.

Nerco shook her head again. “No, mistress. Perhaps you’ve heard of a beast of wing and scale that inhabits the mountains?”

Prevna finally relented on her bit of torture. She even went as far as tapping her finger to her chin. “I have heard some whispers of such a beast. Is that the master you spoke of?”

Nerco seemed relieved that Prevna had at least heard that much and we hadn’t shown up completely clueless. “Aye. The Dawn Crawler. It’s said the beast might have lived since the Era of Night. All spears break upon his hide and darkness never fully touches his scales.”

Then she launched into the tale she’d been hinting at like she afraid that if she took too long Prevna would go back to her stalling tactics. I wasn’t sure why the goddess would allow a creature like that to live, but I also assumed that if She truly wanted to She’d have no trouble enveloping the Dawn Crawler in darkness.

Apparently, the master of the inner valleys had been born from a lake of fire so hot and so bright that even being near it could burn your skin and blind your eyes. At first it had been content in its home and enjoyed day after day in its impossible lake, but then tribes were drawn to the source of light and heat. They had suffered under the endless dark of night and the goddess’s relentless punishment. But here was a place where they didn’t need to scrounge for firewood to light or warmth. Here they had a lake of fire, never dying, just waiting to be used. More and more tribes were drawn to the beacon in the dark. At first they were timid of the creature. They gave it offerings to thank it for sharing its home and bounty. The tribes lived, they thrived, they fought. They fought over who could access the lake and its surrounding resources, resources that were quickly getting stripped bare from the surplus of people. They fought until someone had the idea that whoever controlled the monster in the lake could control all the tribes. They tried to capture the Dawn Crawler while it was feasting on offered prey. Spears broke, nets burned, and the creature rampaged. No tribe was safe, no one could stay near the lake. They fled from the inner valleys and prayed that the beast did not follow.

Nerco closed the tale by saying, “The Dawn Crawler calmed after the tribes fled its home and it lived in peace, year after year, to this day.”

Prevna cocked her head to the side. “How do you know the Dawn Crawler still lives? And why would it tolerate the band you trade with? What about the fog?”

Nerco laughed. “So many questions. Tales for another time, perhaps.” She gave us a questioning look of her own. “Mayhap if you a tale of your own I could remember one for you.”

Ah, so that was it. I smiled despite myself. They were eager for tales and, perhaps even news, that they hadn’t heard before. Something they hadn’t told time and time again, and what better way than to bait that path forward with a tale Nerco knew we’d want to hear?

Prevna shifted and laid back so her head rested on my leg, waving for me to take the lead. I couldn’t quite decide between glaring at her and fighting the blush that crawled up my neck to my cheeks. She had assumed the same posture before when I told stories to pass the time, but that had always been when we were alone—and just once during the last Warming of the Winds when we were all drunk on Nil’s nectar and no one in Esie’s group thought twice about physical contact.

It definitely wasn’t when a whole band of people were staring at us and suddenly looking like they were coming to conclusions about something that wasn’t true. I almost had Prevna get back up, but that would have caused even more of a spectale, so I settled on glaring at Prevna, and then at everyone else, before drawing on a calming breath to tell my own tale. It was fair exchange and I could trade one mountain monster for another.

I told them the tale of Grislander’s Maw. The gargantuan beast given life by wishes and brought low by the goddess Herself and her trees. No one had expected me to be the one to tell the tale that Nerco had fished for, but it didn’t take me long to lull them into the story. To lead them into gasping at the right places and have them leaning forward for more. This was one I knew by heart and it was enjoyable to bring others into the experience.

A few more tales were swapped that night as well as some news from within the Cut and beyond, but Nerco refused to share the tales that held likely held more information about the inner valleys and the fog, the tribe that lived there, or the Dawn Crawler. It seemed those would be things we’d have to spend time longer with the band to earn.