The entrance to the village went well enough, with a night watchman spotting them before they came too close.

Verdan hadn’t wanted to cause any undue alarm, so he’d set fire to a tree branch and held it aloft on the walk over, making sure that they were noticed.

Tim took over the introduction of their group, and in short order, they were being led inside and directed to the sole tavern where travellers might stay.

Apparently, there was a reasonable amount of traffic along the mountains between the various villages, as well as prospectors from the south and adventurers searching for ruins to plunder. Enough to warrant an inn, at any rate.

The innkeeper was a portly man named Gerald with a genial demeanour and a passion for mead that soon had them all sitting in the taproom with a mug while his son cleaned out the rooms.

The village seemed peaceful enough, though, with the evening drawing in, there weren’t many people around, just a few locals drinking together in the corner.

Verdan made a few inquiries about the village headman, and Gerald sent his son to fetch him while Verdan paid out for the rooms and the drink.

It was a good job Verdan had been carrying a decent amount of coins on him. Otherwise, things could have been awkward.

“You’d be the city folk Gerald’s son was mentioning then,” a mellow voice came from the doorway as an older bearded man walked in. “The name’s Albin. I’m the one folks round here asked to run things. What can I do for you?”

“Perhaps we should talk in private,” Verdan said, eyeing the locals drinking not so far away.

“Nah, everything gets around anyway. Gerald, fix me a mug of something, would you?” Albin called out to the innkeeper as he took a seat opposite Verdan, sighing heavily as he did. “So, what brings all you folk out here?”

“This’ll be the last mug I have, Albin. Our other guest cleaned me all out. It’ll be a day or two until I can open the next batch,” Gerald said, putting a big mug of mead in front of Albin. “You’ll have to make do with the wine until then.”

“Other guest?” Verdan asked a touch too sharply, making both men regard him warily. “He’s not a Sorcerer, is he?”

“If he is, he’s not one like I’ve seen before, not like your friend over there,” Albin said, nodding in Kai’s direction before sipping his drink. “Gerald’s guest is neither here nor there, though. You were about to explain things?”

Verdan nodded, taking a moment to gather his thoughts before replying. “We’ve been made aware of a threat to villages like yours by the Weeping Death sect. If you’re aware, they’re currently trying to take over Hobson’s Point, and we believe they’re attempting to conscript people to assist in this.”

“Well, that puts a few things in a different light,” Albin said, a few of the other locals present murmuring their agreement. “We were approached a few days ago by a member of the Weeping Death. He said they were visiting villages in the area to make sure everything was okay. Apparently, they’d been getting reports of monster attacks.”

“How do we know you’re the ones telling the truth!” One of the drunker locals called out in a voice thick with mead and suspicion.

“This is the Weeping Death we’re talking about,” Kai said scornfully, giving the speaker an incredulous look. “They’re not exactly the warm and cuddly type.”

“We’re not here to make trouble,” Verdan said, clearing his throat to bring Albin’s attention back to him. “Do you know when the Weeping Death will be here?”

“In the morning, belike,” Albin said, leaning back to sip on his mead thoughtfully as he eyed Verdan. “There should be four of them, from what he said.”

“Look, we’ll stay the night and keep out of sight. If they’re just coming to check on things, then it won’t be an issue, okay?” Verdan spread his hands before raising a finger. “But, if they’re coming for what we think they’re coming for, you’ll be thanking us for staying.”

“The inn is open to all paying customers,” Albin said eventually, draining his mug before getting to his feet. “I doubt we could kick you out if you tried, so all I ask is that you don’t start any trouble and try to avoid it where possible.”

“I give you my word,” Verdan said solemnly, doing his best to impart his honesty onto the other man.

“Good,” Albin said, heading for the door once more before pausing. “If the Weeping Death come early, I’ll send someone to let you know.”

With the tacit approval of the headman, the locals settled down, ignoring Verdan and his group before eventually heading home one by one.

Following suit, Verdan and the rest took their room keys from Gerald and headed upstairs.

The rooms were nice enough, with a reasonable amount of space, but Verdan was too worried to be able to rest immediately. He couldn’t help but worry about the Weeping Death’s alliance with the Defiant Flame, not to mention his concerns about what was going to happen in the morning.

Surprisingly, while those concerns were valid, what was gnawing at him was that he had no idea what was happening back in the city.

Lieutenant Michaels had been arrested, and considering that Malk had been a spy within the guard, things were looking bad for him. That meant that any other spies or agents in the city might well decide that now was the time to act.

Verdan sighed as he walked over to the bed and tossed a pillow on the floor, taking a seat on it as he settled into a meditative state. If he was being honest with himself, it wasn’t the city he was worried about. It was Natalia.

Unpacking all the emotions contained in that thought wasn’t something Verdan wanted to do the night before a busy day, and tomorrow was very much shaping up that way.

Verdan had promised Natalia that he’d be careful with his health, but he was too worked up to sleep right now, so he might as well put the time to good use expanding his spiral. It required meditation at the same time, so it would help him relax and ultimately get some rest.

Taking firm control of his mind, Verdan banished his worries for the moment and got to work.

-**-

Verdan woke to a slight knocking on his door, followed by Tom telling him that breakfast was ready.

Joining them downstairs, Verdan found that everyone was already there, and from Kai’s innocent expression and how Tim was avoiding his eyes, Verdan had the sneaking suspicion that they’d let him sleep in longer than he should.

Still, Verdan couldn’t really be angry. He’d managed five new layers to his spiral the day before and still managed a good night’s sleep, thanks to them.

Gerald provided a familiar-looking omelette with fresh bread for Verdan’s breakfast. Verdan wasn’t entirely sure why the omelette looked so familiar until Kai leaned over. “We worked out that he’s Bob’s cousin. Apparently, their grandmother taught them both to cook.”

“Huh,” Verdan took a tentative bite of the omelette and shook his head in wonder. Bob’s breakfasts had always been good, and eating this was like they were right back at the Plucky Wanderer.

“Morning, folks,” Albin’s genial voice rang out as he strode inside. “No sign of them Sorcerers yet, but I wanted to ask if you’d all make sure you stay here. That way, there’s no issue if they come in abruptly, alright?”

“Works for us,” Verdan said, wanting to stay on the villager’s good side for as long as they could. “Just remember to send word when they get here so we can be ready. Just in case.”

“Aye, I will,” Albin said, his eyes briefly resting on Blane, who was sitting at the end of the table and was feeding the two dogs he’d adopted with small pieces of bacon. Shaking his head, Albin headed back out, leaving them to finish their food in peace.

“Is that normal?” Verdan asked Sylvie softly, nodding down to the two dogs Blane was feeding. Considering that they’d been out in the woods and all but starved just the day before, they were looking healthier and seemed at ease inside the inn.

“My brother seems to be treading the path of a Draskir, a binder of what we call fraktiri, our lesser cousins. It is a difficult path, one that I didn’t realise he was interested in,” Sylvie said, her eyes on her brother as he interacted with the dogs.

“Binding?” Verdan prompted, wondering if this was another application of Parada. He couldn’t sense anything, but he was far more attuned to Aether than its mystical alternative, so small amounts might well slip past him.

“Yes, our sufrak, the other half of our soul, can do many things, the least of which is transforming us. My brother is sacrificing that transformation to grant the fraktiri a portion of his strength. Much like other bindings, he will gain their strength as well.”

“Fascinating,” Verdan murmured, focusing in on the trio more carefully and watching as small amounts of Parada seemed to exchange between them.

Verdan reluctantly pulled his attention from what Blane was doing and retired back to his room. Things were speeding up now, everything was escalating, and he needed every drop of magical power that he could gather.

They were required to sit and wait, so that was what he would do, but he’d spend the time building his spiral.