I didn’t really consider why an inn would have enough space for forty new customers until I saw the place we would end up staying. It wasn’t exactly run down, but it certainly wasn’t in the best shape either. If I had to describe it in a single word, it would have been “dusty”: The windows hadn’t been cleaned and the outside surface looked to be in need of a wash. The man, who had introduced himself as Tahroyl on the way over, said nothing about the state of the place as he walked up first and threw the doors open.

“I’m back!” he announced. At the same time, Shahpao used a few gestures to tell five soldiers to bring the wagons around to the rear of the inn. We were on a secondary street, so the foot traffic wasn’t high, but we would still have ended up obstructing it otherwise. The rest of us followed Tahroyl inside, finding an equally dusty interior to greet us. Not a single patron appeared to be inside, and since Tahroyl had assured us there were enough spaces in the inn’s forty-eight rooms for all of us that meant that there must have been ten or fewer overall customers. Looks more like zero, actually, I thought.

“I’m about to start on supper,” a female voice called back. “How was work?” Unlike most inns, there didn’t appear to be a serving window in between the dining room and kitchen, so we didn’t get a look at Tahroyl’s wife, just an indication that she was past an open door on the far side of the room.

“You might want to get a bit more than enough for the two of us,” Tahroyl joked. “I brought some friends over.” The sound of a pot hitting the floor came from the kitchen, and then a woman stomped out into the dining room holding a butcher’s knife. She was, in nearly all respects, a female version of Tahroyl, even down to her stature. She looked like she was going to begin to shout at him, but then her eyes were drawn to me and Vaozey and she froze.

“What have you gotten into now?” she hissed.

“Nothing, I swear,” Tahroyl laughed. “These are paying customers. Near-on forty of ‘em, even. I figured we could use the money, not like fishmongerin’ pays much and I know we’ve been getting’ a bit low on funds.” Tahroyl’s wife gave him a hard look, then sighed through her nose and frowned. Shahpao took that as a signal to step in and introduce himself quickly.

“I’m Shahpao, the leader of this group,” he interjected. “There are thirty-eight soldiers with us and your husband informed us that you had space to give everyone an individual room for, well, as long as we need to find a boat to take us to Mehtsiyah island.”

“I’m Yawloytey,” the woman replied gruffly. “Did he tell you that you have to pay?”

“That he did,” Shahpao nodded.

“How much did he tell you it costs?” she asked. “Not to be rude, but cleanin’ up after thirty-eight rowdy soldiers sounds like a lot more work than just findin’ normal customers.”

“Yawloy-” Tahroyl began, but Shahpao cut him off.

“I can assure you that my men and women are well-trained,” he said. “You won’t have any issues with anyone here, but if something does arise that needs addressing, you can bring it to my attention and I’ll handle it. As for the price, we’re prepared to pay two ngoywngeyt per night per person, plus fees for meals.” Yawloytey’s left eyebrow raised ever so slightly, as if betraying contained surprise.

“That’s what he told you the price was?” she asked.

“I didn’t-” Tahroyl began, making a gesture.

“It’s the price we agreed on during the walk over here,” Shahpao said slyly. The negotiation hadn’t been much of one at all, Shahpao had offered the price and then pretended to remain firm as Tahroyl had tried to suggest slight increases. I was fairly sure that, for the region at least, it was quite generous.

“I suppose it’s fine then,” Yawloytey sighed, trying to sound disappointed, but her eyes betrayed her excitement. “We can call your daily meals one extra ngoywngeyt per person, per day, if that’s fine with you.”

“That sounds acceptable,” Shahpao agreed, and I wondered just how much money the caravan was actually carrying. Probably thousands of ngoywngeyt, I realized, especially after we sell the beasts. It’s strange to even think about that much money.

“How long you plannin’ to be here?” Yawloytey asked. “Gotta buy enough food for you all.”

“Not sure,” Shahpao replied. “Eight to ten days minimum, might be a few times that. Will that be a problem?”

“Course not,” Yawloytey snorted. “Come on Tahroyl, you’re in the kitchen with me.”

“But-” he stuttered.

“You wanted to make some money for us? You did it,” Yawloytey snapped. “You just made some work too, so we’re splittin’ it. All you soldiers go pick out your rooms, we’ll have some stew ready in an hour.”

The next morning, I awoke in my surprisingly spacious room to the sounds of the rest of the soldiers walking the halls. Yawloytey and Tahroyl were respectful about Shahpao’s request that neither Vaozey nor I be required to reveal our faces to them, but were understandably curious. For that reason, we had both decided to try to stay out of the way of most of the other soldiers to limit the chances that an “accident” might occur in which either of us would be seen without a helmet or mask of some kind. The mask in question that I had been given was sitting on the nightstand beside me, the same one I had used in the smithy. Well, I have time to mess around while training, I thought with a sigh as I stood up, better use it.

The main skill I wanted to develop, but hadn’t quite figured out yet, was something like Vaozey’s ability to quickly and reflexively block objects from piercing her body. I had the ability to create volumes that could help me detect if an object was passing through them, but they weren’t exactly the same thing, and even with my increased magic capacity I wasn’t able to cover my whole body with them if I wanted to stop objects efficiently. Since solo training force magic based defensive abilities was out, I decided to move on to the next item on my list: electromagnetic defenses.

R’vaajh’s display of the attractive force of a magical electromagnet was certainly impressive, but he didn’t truly understand what he was doing well enough to comprehend the potential of the ability. Magnets were known to the Uwrish, but not well understood, and as such he probably never thought to try to produce a repulsive force of any kind. I, on the other hand, was well aware of what a magnet could do, and intimately familiar with a myriad of ways to induce and manipulate magnetic force. A side effect of how magic worked allowed me to produce something I called “material-independent electrical currents” that would pass through anything within their range, from air to metal, giving me all the pieces I needed to produce a powerful magnetic shield.

Normally, an electromagnet cannot repel a piece of metal that is not already ferromagnetic and oriented in such a way as to produce a repulsive force, but with the ability to spontaneously induce a current in the piece of metal that restriction falls away. Through careful manipulation of the immediate volume around myself, I could produce a constant current of electricity that would induce a small magnetic field with a known orientation in any metal that passed through it. Then, using a second set of floating currents, I could produce a second magnetic field that would repel it, effectively defending myself. That, at least, was the theory. In practice, it was more difficult.

I spent about four hours lying on the floor and tossing one of my hiltless daggers into the air, trying to electrify it and repel it with magic before it struck me. Half the time, nothing at all appeared to happen. Out of the times that something did happen, only two-thirds of the time was a repulsive force produced, and the rest of the time the dagger simply re-oriented midair to align to the magnetic field before stabbing into me. Still, it was better than nothing, and I was sure that most of the issues were just a result of the spacing and strength of the fields rather than a flaw in the general theory. After all, it wasn’t like a sword could flip around in its owner’s hand to avoid repulsion.

When the soldiers finally settled down, I got up off the floor and wiped off my chest, then put on my mask and headed out into the hallway. There were a few bathing rooms in the inn, two on each far side of the building, and I was quite eager to make use of one. I hadn’t been able to wash off the night before, and the temptation of having soap was almost too much to avoid.

“Our contact is dead,” Shahpao announced as soon as I got back to my room. He and Vaozey were waiting for me with a table and chairs, apparently intent on discussing our plan of action.

“We had a contact?” I asked, sitting down.

“We had a starting point,” Vaozey elaborated. “Trying to get to Mehtsiyah without being immediately identified as what we are is basically impossible without finding a smuggler, pretty sure we mentioned that at some point. We don’t have much reach over here but we did have a few names of people who might have been able to connect us.”

“And they’re all dead?” I asked.

“The biggest one is dead,” Shahpao clarified. “Doesn’t look related to us, seems like he found himself on the wrong side of the law and ended up getting shot through the eye. Freak accident. Found out this morning.”

“So then we go to the next one,” I said, wondering why I had to state the obvious. Shahpao sighed, and Vaozey grimaced. “What?”

“It’s a pseudonym,” Vaozey said. “Apparently he goes by Kaoreyv.” The meaning of the name was a type of leaf-eating beetle that could be found nearly everywhere in Uwriy, the symbology of it was unknown to me. After a moment of silence, I glanced between the pair of awkward-looking humans, and then spoke up.

“What is the issue?” I asked. I could tell that there was something I was missing about the situation by the expectant looks I was getting.

“People with pseudonyms are always lunatics,” Shahpao explained. “It’s practically a rule of life. Anyone who goes by some stupid fake name like Kaoreyv is bound to be an unreliable moron at best. It’s why most warriors reject nicknames, it’s a bad omen.”

“And the next four people on the list are also using pseudonyms,” Vaozey added. I was taken aback by the assumption, but both of them seemed quite serious. “I’m guessing it’s not the same for your people?” Vaozey asked.

“You do realize ‘Yuwniht’ is essentially a pseudonym for me, right?” I asked back. “‘Madwoman of Owsahlk’ was a pseudonym as well, wasn’t it?”

“That’s different,” Vaozey replied quickly.

“No, it’s not,” I said. “Are you two actually sulking in this room over a superstition? You don’t know anything about this person. Do you even know if they’re a man or a woman?”

“Probably a man,” Vaozey muttered.

“So nothing then,” I concluded.

“We know he’s probably a nutcase,” Shahpao said. “There’s truth to the stereotype. So, for that reason, I’d like you and Vaozey to go with Zhoyl to meet with this guy once we get a read on his whereabouts. Don’t make the first move, but if you suspect anything, kill him and everyone with him. I’d much rather have to explain another slaughter as a Rehvite military member than have our cover blown.”

“You could have just opened with that,” I said. “How long do you think it’ll take?”

“A few hours, by sundown we should know where he is,” Shahpao said, getting up from the table. “I’ll leave you two here for now. The innkeeper is out and so is her husband, but don’t go walking around in case someone wanders in.”

“We’re not stupid, Shahpao,” Vaozey sighed.

“I know, but it’s always good to have a reminder,” he replied, then he crossed the room and exited into the hallway, leaving Vaozey and me in silence. She sighed a few times, then looked over at me.

“It was different,” she said.

“What?” I asked.

“What they used to call me, it was different,” she insisted. “I never really accepted it, I just used the reputation.”

“You know I don’t care, right?” I asked, and she sighed again. I couldn’t identify the source of her frustration, so I just grimaced and shook my head. “Is this some kind of pride thing?”

“What does your name mean?” she asked suddenly.

“Names have to mean something?” I asked back. Vaozey seemed taken aback by the response and scoffed, then started to chuckle nervously.

“Nevermind,” she snorted. “I’m going to take a nap. I’d advise you to do the same, just in case we’re up all night with this Kaoreyv nonsense. I have a feeling it’s going to be a long one.”

I was getting sick of having to wear a helmet, or more specifically having to look out of the limited viewport of a helmet. At first, it was annoying to not be able to use my whole field of vision due to the extra protections, but after many weeks that wasn’t the part that was grating on me the most. Instead, it was the humidity. The weather outside in the street was cool as I followed behind Zhoyl, but under the helmet, I was still sweating. The straps also itched around my newly-washed hair, and I longed for the moment that I could remove the metal from my head and be free again.

“Wasn’t it right back there?” Vaozey asked, pointing behind her with her thumb. Zhoyl looked at the paper the directions were written on again, then shook her head.

“No, it’s up here,” she said, gesturing forward. “There are two streets with similar names. That one was Zaayeyl, we’re looking for Zaayzeyl.”

“Confusing seytoydh nonsense,” Vaozey muttered. Soon enough, we found the street we were looking for and turned down it. It looked like there had been some sort of farmer’s market set up along its edges earlier in the day, with empty stalls left abandoned along with chairs and remnants of their products strewn about. The only building that seemed to have any indications of activity in it was a community hall that was creating a thumping bass noise, and that was the building we approached to enter.

As soon as Zhoyl opened the doors on the front of the community building, my ears were assaulted with a cacophony of noise. A moment later, my brain parsed it as music and began to put everything together. A few singers, along with some stringed instrument players, were standing on a stage near the back of the room and performing a song while the rest of the audience stamped the ground rhythmically and danced to emulate a percussion instrument. So chaotic was the room that nobody even noticed us slip inside, even though Vaozey and I were in full armor.

“Are you sure this is where we’re supposed to meet him?” I asked loudly.

“This is where we’re supposed to ask for him,” Zhoyl replied. “I know this song. It’s only another minute or so. We can wait.” True to her word, about a minute later the song, which was a strange story about a couple meeting up in a field after burning their houses down, ended with the characters getting married and the performers flourishing while the crowd cheered. Zhoyl directed us to move along the edge of the room and approach a group of four shady-looking men standing in one of the far corners as everyone took a break to chat. Finally, we drew some attention, but nobody wanted to obstruct us.

“We’re looking for Kaoreyv,” Zhoyl said as soon as the shady men noticed her, cutting entirely to the point of the conversation.

“Don’t know who that is,” the apparent leader of the men, a man with a graying beard and shaved head replied curtly. As if choreographed, all four men assumed various postures that indicated they weren’t to be talked to, from crossed arms to scowling and looking away.

“We were directed here,” Zhoyl replied. “We have business with him.”

“Nobody here has business with soldiers, least of all Mehtsiyahns,” the gray-bearded man replied. “You’re ruining the party, get out.” Zhoyl was going to reply again, but Vaozey cut in front of her and took command of the conversation.

“You have two choices here,” she said. “You can make a lot of money for your boss, or you and your boys can get found in a crate tomorrow split in so many pieces that they won’t even be able to tell whose tawtz are who’s.” After seeing her in Towrkah, I didn’t doubt for a moment that Vaozey would actually use exactly the level of violence she was threatening.

“You expect me to believe a soldier wants to do business with my boss?” the gray-bearded man asked.

“I never said I was a soldier,” Vaozey replied. “Nor a Mehtsiyahn.” The band behind us was gearing up to begin a new song, and surprisingly the group of men gave each other some glances and then gestured to a nearby exit door, inviting us to continue the conversation in the alley behind the community hall. As we all walked back out into the cool night air, the music started up again, this time forming into a ballad of some sort.

“Then who are you, if you’re not soldiers?” the gray-bearded man asked.

“Bring us to your boss and we’ll tell him,” I said. “You’re not getting anything out of us before there’s some kind of business agreement made.”

“And what sort of agreement would we be making?” the gray-bearded man asked.

“We need to get thirty-eight people plus supplies to Mehtsiyah island, and we need to bypass normal identity checks at the port,” Zhoyl replied.

“Seyt me,” one of the other men swore. “Oh no, I’m not getting’ involved with this.”

“We can pay,” Zhoyl added. “We have plenty of money.”

“Ain’t no money in this world worth gettin’ involved with what you’re doin’,” the same man retorted. “I got no love for Rehv but if it’s a choice between spittin’ in his face and dyin’ or bowin’ and livin’, I know which one I choose.”

“Coward,” one of the other men snapped. “Not like it’s us who’d be responsible for what they do.”

“You try tellin’ that to Zihzehsheshk’s people when they come lookin’ for whoever smuggled these idiots to Mehtsiyah,” the coward replied. “I’m goin’ home. You all should too.”

“You’re going nowhere until we can be sure you aren’t going to cause problems for us,” Vaozey said.

“Kill me then,” the man snorted, not realizing how much he was tempting fate.

“Nobody’s dyin’ tonight!” the gray-bearded man shouted. “You all chatter more than birds in a tree. Zhihteyng, you’re staying with us until this is concluded. You, soldiers, who are you?”

“You can call me Zhoyl,” Zhoyl replied. “As for these two, you don’t need to know.”

“Don’t expect our boss to agree to anything with that attitude, but if you really want to talk to him we can bring you to his place,” the gray-bearded man said. Zhoyl nodded, he nodded back, and then we all began moving without another word.

To say the trip back down to the docks was tense would be an overstatement, but it was certainly awkward. There weren’t many people out after sundown, but those who were out seemed to know the four men who were leading us and gave them various looks ranging from surprise to disapproval. There weren’t many guards out, surprisingly, and those that were walking the streets ignored us. Have they paid them off? I wondered.

Our destination was a shack on the west side of the city, just across from a dock. At first glance, it looked run down, but closer inspection revealed that it was actually cleverly disguised. None of the cracked outer wooden panels revealed anything of the interior, nor were the moldy and rotten beams load-bearing. The windows were cracked, but the cracked glass was contained within a second outer layer of clear crystal glass so that it wouldn’t fall apart fully. Even the door, which looked like it would swing outward unevenly due to the poor placement and maintenance of its hinges, moved silently and fluidly in contrast to expectations, revealing a single room and some stairs down into a lower level.

“Wait up here,” the gray-bearded man said after bringing us inside. “He’s downstairs, I’ll tell him you’re here and what you want.” Zhoyl, Vaozey, and I stood with the three other men as the leader went downstairs and exchanged some muffled words with someone else. The conversation went on for another two minutes, and then finally two sets of footsteps ascended the stairs. The first pair belonged to our guide, while the second pair belonged to a much younger man.

He hadn’t had the full beard the last time I saw him, nor was his hair as long as it was, drawn back in a ponytail to keep it from his face. He looked more muscular, but also a few kilograms lighter, his exposed arms seeming to contain no fat in between the skin on the surface and muscle underneath. Still, he was recognizably the same person I had met before, from the expression on his face to the dueling sword at his hip. The question of why he was in Duwbkaav never occurred to me as he turned to face us, smirking and raising an eyebrow, not recognizing me or Vaozey because of our armor.

“So Zhoyl, was it?” Koyl asked. “Why don’t you start at the beginning and tell me why a Rehvite officer like you, sorry, someone impersonating a Revhite officer like you would think that I want anything to do with hypothetical work you would be offering.”

“This is where you’ve been holed up?” Vaozey snarled, unable to contain herself. “I knew you were a worthless npoyt, but I figured you for more of a daddy’s boy than a rebel when you dropped off the map. I’m not sure if this is better or worse.” Koyl’s brow furrowed as he tried to identify the voice, and his eyes went wide. It seemed that he couldn’t decide whether to be shocked or angry, and somehow the indecision had nearly paralyzed him.

“Get them out of here,” he ordered shakily. “Don’t tell anyone about this, do no business with them, tell anyone working for us to avoid them. Whatever she’s up to, we don’t want any part of it.”

“Coward,” Vaozey scoffed. “At least that hasn’t changed. You’re still an idiot too, because you haven’t even considered who’s standing beside me right now.”

“What, it’s not Mawyeyz?” Koyl shot back. “Do you even know how much money I could get in exchange for his head? I’m no coward, I just know when to stand out of the line of fire. Now get out of here Vaozey, before the gods themselves bring down their wrath on my head just for being near you. I have no interest in whatever scheme you’re involved in.”

“Oh I think the gods might have already roped you into this ‘scheme’,” Vaozey cackled, pulling her helmet off. “You’re not going to believe this unless you see it.” Looking at me, Vaozey gestured for me to remove my helmet as well, and so I did, taking a deep breath of cool air and sighing in relief. Out of the non-soldiers, only Koyl recognized me, and his response was to completely freeze in place.

“Yes, it’s me,” I said. “Not a lookalike.” Koyl’s expression was one of terror, and as soon as he heard my voice his breathing quickened. His underlings sensed his shock and began to reach for weapons.

“No!” Koyl shouted, holding his hand out at them, breaking his trance. “Everyone out but Vaozey and Yuwniht, now.”

“Who?” the gray-bearded man asked, his hand still on the hilt of a dagger hidden in his shirt.

“OUT! NOW!” Koyl shouted, and within a few seconds, the three of us were alone in the room. Koyl was still gasping for air and looking like his eyes were going to pop out of his head when Vaozey broke the silence.

“So do you want to sit down?” she asked. “You look like you’re about to die right here from shock.”

“You’re dead,” Koyl said, looking me right in the eyes. “I saw you die. You died, and then… There’s a seytoydh statue of you. You’re dead.”

“I’m fairly sure you’re wrong about that,” I replied, shrugging. “Though the statue is real, even if it’s troublesome.”

“Prove it’s you,” Koyl said, and there was an orb of light in my hand a moment later. That, apparently, was too much for him, and he finally slumped against the wall, sliding down into a seated position and muttering incoherently to himself. “Are you… angry?” he asked, looking up at me.

“What?” I asked back, genuinely confused.

“The rifles,” Koyl said. “Are you angry? I told my father not to make them, but he didn’t-”

“They’re muskets,” I corrected. “Rifles have a barrel with grooves to induce projectile rotation and increase accuracy.” There was silence, except for the sound of Vaozey quietly suppressing a laugh, and Koyl seemed to deflate. “Why would I be angry?” I asked.

“We made a lot of money with them,” Koyl replied. “More than you can probably imagine. I just figured…” Of course, he probably thinks of it as stealing, I thought.

“If you feel indebted over it, you can help us,” I said. “We’re looking for a smuggler called Kaoreyv.”

“Yeah, that’s me,” Koyl admitted, looking down at the floor again. “You need to get forty people to Mehtsiyah, or so Ahyaov told me.”

“Along with equipment,” Vaozey added. “And, obviously, we can’t be stopped by the guards and have our identification checked.” Koyl deflated even further, his body almost going entirely slack, and he sighed, resigning himself to his fate.

“I can do it on three conditions,” he said quietly. “Number one, it’s not going to be cheap and no I can’t give you the exact figure right now, just know it will cost you even if I don’t skim the top. Number two, I’m going to need time to get everything together, probably a week or more. Finally, number three, I am not going to fight anyone for you and I will not be involving myself in whatever you two are up to. If we get caught, I’m giving up immediately and saying you threatened me.”

“That’s acceptable,” Vaozey smiled. “Since you already brought it up, if you try to turn us in I’ll kill you, and if any of the idiots who work for you try it I’ll feed them to you.” Koyl shuddered, then looked up at her, before turning his head to face me.

“Then we have a deal,” he said. “Just… give me a few minutes to collect myself. It’s not every day that my nightmares start coming true. Gods, what did I do to deserve this?”