Chapter 27

The next morning was spent making arrangements for the goods Grams needed. There was enough of it that hauling everything back to the inn didn’t make much sense, so we settled on picking it up when we left town instead.

We traded in the jewelry we’d earned helping Reedwatch deal with the trolls, which netted us a few gold coins each. Ashlara still had a fair bit of money left over from dealing with Mother Hunger and told us to keep her share. That didn’t sit right with me, so after a bit of arguing I convinced her to fold it back into her own stash for emergencies.

I was also able to scrap the coins slagged in the wizard fight. It padded my purse a little - not much, but every bit helped.

While we were out, I picked up some rough paper, watercolors, and a handful of brushes, along with a few more supplies for the return trip. By the time we were done, I had five gold and a scattering of lesser coins to my name.

After lunch we claimed a table and I brought out the paper and paints. I leaned close and whispered my plan to Mirri. Her eyes lit up immediately and she nodded, passing a little of our plan along to Lilae in Brel. Then the three of us started painting.

Lilae worked carefully at what looked like a village, stopping often to ask Mirri for help. She didn’t seem very familiar with painting, and I couldn’t tell if that was cultural or if her parents simply hadn’t had the means. As she went on, little goblin shapes began to appear among the buildings.

Mirri filled her page with yellow, threading it with graceful, looping lines of red. It was intricate in a way I wouldn’t have thought possible with watercolors. I found myself, once again, impressed by everything she did.

Mine was simpler. I washed the paper in blue and added a blot of yellow near the top center. Once it dried, I flipped it over and did the same to the other side. By the time I finished, Mirri had completed her design and Lilae was about halfway through her village.

Mirri and I began folding our pages, which drew the attention of Ashlara, Serah, and Lilae. Mirri folded hers lengthwise into a sharp triangle, then tucked it in on itself. I folded mine across the width, starting with a triangle as well, then blunting the nose before folding it in half. When we were done, we each held a paper airplane painted like a bird.

Without a word, we stood together, crossed the room, and sent our planes flying toward Lilae.

Mirri’s soared gracefully, straight as an arrow. Mine was nose-heavy, dipping before catching itself and gliding back up just before it reached her. The others in our party - and even the few patrons in the inn - watched, entranced. Mirri jumped and clapped, laughing as the planes flew.

We retrieved them and returned to the table. After a quick check with Mirri to make sure I had it right, I handed both planes to Lilae.

“Thesa var tal,” I told her. “These are for you.”

I smiled. After a moment, she smiled back - small and shy, but real.

* * *

While the rooms at the inn were a fair size, there were five of us now, and trying to cram everyone into a single room would have been a tight squeeze. When we’d arrived, we’d agreed to spring for two rooms, just to keep things comfortable.

Ashlara and I had bunked together the first night, but tonight we changed things up to give Serah some time away from the rambunctious Lilae. We got ready for bed and each settled into one of the two beds in the room, the lamplight low and warm.

“My last name is Grimm,” I said after a while, not really aiming the words at Serah so much as letting them exist in the room. “Family name. I don’t know if your people do that. We do, but it’s not usually a big deal. At least mine isn’t. The only famous Grimms I know of were two brothers who collected fairy tales into a book. I don’t even know if I’m related to them.”

I trailed off, unsure where to take it next.

After a long pause, Serah asked, “You have fairies in your world?”

I smiled, a quiet laugh slipping out. “No, not really. A long time ago people believed in them, but they don’t actually exist.” I sat up and turned toward her. “Do they exist here?”

“Yes,” she replied. “They tend to prefer warmer climates. I’ve never seen one myself, but my education included the study of many peoples and their histories.”

“Huh.” I leaned back against the headboard. “It’s strange how much from my world seems to bleed over into this one. Or maybe it’s the other way around. We have legends of dragons, goblins, elves, dwarves - everything you’d expect. But where I’m from, none of it ever really existed. It’s just humans, and that’s the way it’s always been.”

Serah lay on her back, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

I hesitated, then pushed on. “Did I tell you I’m married? Or… was married. Sort of.”

She glanced over at me, just briefly.

“It didn’t work out,” I continued. “She wanted a divorce. I was almost ready to sign the papers.” I exhaled slowly. “Her name was Jennifer. I still don’t really know where we went wrong. I worked too much. Wasn’t home enough. I don’t know. She ended up sleeping with my boss…” The words hit harder than I expected, a rush of anger and grief threatening to overwhelm me. I took several long breaths before I could go on.

“She had a daughter - Emily - from her first husband. She never liked me. I tried to be a father anyway, and I screwed that up too.” My voice faltered. “It makes me wonder if I can be a good father for Lilae.”

I stopped there, staring at the ceiling myself now. This wasn’t coming out the way I’d imagined. It felt raw and scattered, like I was just dumping pieces of myself on the floor.

“I was a project manager,” I said after several long moments, steering hard in a different direction. “Before I got fired. I helped organize people - clients, developers, QA - figured out what they wanted, what they needed to get it done, and tried to keep everything moving.” I glanced at her, but she was still studying the ceiling, unreadable.

“Before that I was a developer. Before that a DBA. In college I worked part-time at a zoo. Fed goats and snakes and sloths.” I smiled faintly. “They didn’t let me anywhere near the lions or tigers. Probably a good idea. They would’ve eaten me.”

“What is the purpose of this conversation?” she asked.

I winced. “Right. Sorry. Nevermind. Just… forget I said anything.” I lay back, staring up and cursing myself for how awkward this had become.

She rolled onto her side to face me. “My observations suggest that everything you do has intent. You began this conversation for a reason. What was it?”

I sighed. “You asked me once why I didn’t interrogate you about who you are. I said I didn’t want to pressure you, that I’d be here if you wanted to talk.” I hesitated. “I thought… maybe if I told you a bit about myself, it would show trust. I can’t expect you to open up if I don’t do the same.” I gave a small, self-deprecating chuckle. “And I’m guessing you’re already tired of listening to Mirri ask me questions. I know I get tired of hearing myself talk.”

She watched me in silence for a long moment. Then she asked, “What is a deeveeay?”

I blinked. “A deevee- Oh, a DBA. Database administrator. It’s a… How do I explain what a database is?” I scratched my head. “Think of it like a recordkeeper. Or a librarian who doesn’t read the books, but knows exactly where they are and how they’re organized. If you want information, they tell you where to find it.” I grimaced. “That’s not a great explanation.”

“What is a cueay?” she asked next.

“Uh… Oh, QA. Quality assurance,” I said. “Someone whose job is to test things and make sure they work properly. You can’t always trust people to get everything right on the first try, so you have someone else check their work before it reaches the customer.”

She rolled onto her back again, eyes on the ceiling. Silence stretched between us, long enough that I wondered if she’d fallen asleep. “My name is Kindlesun Serathiel,” she said quietly, then closed her eyes.

* * *

“I wish we had a couple more,” Driver muttered.

Erra smacked the back of his head the instant the words left his mouth. “We’re tryin’ ta git rid of ‘em, moron,” he hissed.

“I know that,” Driver shot back, rubbing the sore spot. “But Case says they gotta be the right ones. We got a couple extra leaf-ears and pee-wees, just in case. He even imported some froggies to make the numbers work. I’m just sayin’ - this one gits us to thirteen, and that’s what we need. If even one of ‘em ain’t right, we’re fucked.”

“Then we make damn sure they’re the right ones,” Erra said. He glanced down the alley. “Liv, you ready?”

The third man nodded without a word. He twisted his fingers through familiar patterns, the motions drilled into him back at the university, shaping and focusing his mana.

He wasn’t a great mage. Hell, he’d been expelled less than a year into his studies for casting spells on other students. But he’d learned enough to make himself useful to a certain kind of people. And he was smart enough not to ask questions when being useful paid this well.

A small blue light gathered in his hands, slowly stretching and reshaping itself into a delicate little butterfly. He lifted it to his lips and blew gently. It fluttered its wings and drifted out into the noise and press of the marketplace, homing in on its target.

* * *

The next morning we were up, had breakfast, and hitched the goats to the wagon. Once everything was secured, we settled Lilae into the back and headed for the main marketplace to collect the goods we’d ordered. There was a lot of it - enough that Lilae would have to walk with us on the way back. The trip wasn’t difficult and I wasn’t worried. She’d endured far worse alongside her parents and the trolls.

I was tightening the last of the straps on the cart when Mirri called my name, her voice sharp with panic. “Where’s Lilae?”

I froze and scanned the marketplace, my eyes sweeping over the press of bodies and stalls.

“Serah! Ashlara!” I shouted. “We have a problem.”

They hurried over as I spoke. “Lilae’s missing. We need to find her. Mirri - north,” I pointed. “Ashlara, take west. Serah, east. I’ll go south. If you reach the edge of the market, circle back here. If you see anything, shout. Go.”

I asked the merchant to keep an eye out, then we split up, leaving the cart behind without hesitation. None of what we’d bought mattered if Lilae was gone.

I reached the southern edge of the market with no sign of her. I angled east, then turned back, my heart pounding harder with every step. I hadn’t gone far when Ashlara’s voice rang out. I called to Serah in case she hadn’t heard and pushed my way west through the crowd.

Mirri was already there, tears streaking her face, clutching the little paper airplane she’d made for Lilae. Ashlara was still searching, eyes darting. We had a direction now, but the crowd on this side of the market was thick, bodies packed tight.

I **** my way toward a narrow alley, planted Adhaneth, and shoved. The enchantment answered, hurling me upward. I struck the staff against the wall and launched again, then a final blow carried me onto the rooftop. From there I scanned the sea of people, searching for anything - anything at all.

Nothing.

My gaze flicked to Mirri below, then back to the crowd.

And then I saw it - a tiny flash of blue.

“Over there!” I shouted. I vaulted to the next building and sprinted across the rooftops to close the distance.

Ashlara reached it first - a scrap of blue paper, torn from the airplane I’d made.

I kept moving, scanning ahead. As the crowd thinned, I caught another flash of blue. West, toward the river.

I pointed and yelled, guiding them to the next scrap. Then another. Then another. Each one pulled us closer to the edge of the marketplace.

I leapt down, Adhaneth softening the fall. “Spread out,” I said. “If you see anything, shout.”

A minute later Mirri called out again. Another scrap. We ran, stopping at intersections to search, moving only when we were sure there was nothing left to find. The trail twisted through the streets until it ended abruptly at a narrow dead end. One last scrap of paper lay on the stones.

No doors. No alleys. No ladders. Just a wall.

I vaulted back to the rooftops and searched the surrounding area, but there was nothing.

“Got something!” Ashlara called.

I dropped back down. She’d kicked aside a stack of old crates, revealing a sewer grate set into the street.

“The scratches are fresh,” she said, crouching to examine the stone. “They went this way.”

She heaved at the grate, shifting it just enough to leave a gap wide enough for someone to slip through.