by M. Gregg Roe
Not a major one, the goddess replied after a moment. It is an outlier event.
“Outlier,” Aliva repeated. “You mean you weren’t expecting it?”
No answer came, but thinking about the odd remark helped Aliva to stay alert during the flight home. It might mean that there had been only a low probability of the castle showing up in Andoran’s Realm. Or it might be Lasrina’s way of indicating that another deity was responsible. The goddess wasn’t the only one that manipulated fates.
It was well after dark when Aliva arrived home. After Romee went to bed, she told Stanley everything.
Stanley had no sooner departed when Romee walked into the kitchen, wringing her hands. Throughout breakfast, it had been obvious that the girl had something on her mind. Aliva continued washing off plates as she waited for the girl to speak.
“I uh…” Romee coughed slightly. “The last time…” she trailed off as her cheeks flushed.
Aliva picked up a towel and dried her hands. “Do you want to talk in the sitting room?” she asked, thinking it might help the girl relax.
After bobbing her head nervously, Romee led the way. She sat rigidly in her usual chair and clasped her hands together in her lap. Aliva moved her own chair so that the two of them were facing each other. Smiling primly, she folded her own hands onto her lap.
After taking a deep breath, Romee said, “The last time we went out we found a private spot. We started kissing, and Lars got…” Her eyes darted all around. “His…”
Aliva knew very well that nothing serious had occurred. Romee was just embarrassed. “He got excited?” she prompted.
Romee nodded. “I felt excited too.” She waved her arms. “Nothing happened, but…”
At this rate, the girl would be late for her first class. “Do you have questions?” Aliva asked gently.
“I…” Romee took another deep breath while staring down at her hands. “I think I should take AP powder before our next date. Just in case.”
“That’s very mature of you,” Aliva told her, and Romee looked up with gratitude. “I have some I can give you.” Even though she had no need of it, Aliva bought AP powder regularly to maintain appearances.
“Thank you,” Romee said, looking very relieved. “I know it doesn’t cost much, but…”
“It’s embarrassing for a teenage girl to buy,” Aliva completed. “You really should head out or you’ll be late.”
“I forgot to tell them,” Romee said, apparently to herself. “I have the morning off. They’re having a big meeting to discuss preparing for the festival.”
The Rohoville Festival was now less than two months away, and the fighting school played a key role. “Did you sign up?” Aliva asked.
Romee’s face lit up. “I'm competing in shortsword. Stanley says that you know saber.”
“It’s what I used back when I went adventuring,” Aliva explained. But she had relied far more on her innate abilities and spell-casting.
Romee made a face. “I don’t like spear. I asked about switching to saber, but…”
“You want me to teach you?” Aliva asked, feeling flattered.
“Please,” Romee begged. “The instructor said she’d let me in if I knew the basics.”
It was another opportunity to bond. Aliva rose to her feet. “I’ve got a practice saber. We just have to dig it out from the storage closet.” Assuming they could even find it. They might have to wait until Stanley came home.
“Okay, but I do have some questions about sex,” Romee said, blushing again. “Some of the girls said things that confused me.”
They might have done it deliberately. Or maybe Romee had just misunderstood.
“Ask away,” Aliva said, settling back into her chair. It was turning into a memorable morning.
The area reeked of sick giant lizard. Employed to power the ferries and pull caravans, the creatures sometimes contracted an illness that led to a great deal of vomiting. It wasn’t the kind of smell you ever forgot (or wanted to experience again). Aliva wrinkled her nose as she made her way to where Stanley was standing, watching as some of his employees used buckets of river water to clean up the mess. He had sent a note saying that he wouldn’t be home for dinner, but she hadn’t expected this.
“This came today,” Aliva said, handing over a square of thick, lavender-colored paper covered with ornate writing. It was an invitation.
He squinted as he read it by the light of the torches burning on poles nearby. Then he shook his head and handed it back. “I won’t be able to attend. That’s our busiest time.”
It was the response she had expected. The Rohoville Festival just kept growing. Visitors seemed to arrive earlier each year, many making use of the ferry service. In anticipation, Stanley would hire additional workers and even a few guards. And the business would bring in more money in a few days than it normally did in three months.
“I’ll send our regrets,” she told him, stowing the invitation in her belt pouch. “We can take Gabriel and Kora out to dinner the next time we visit the Witch’s City.” She was thrilled that they had finally married.
“Romee will be there then,” he said thoughtfully. “She can represent us.”
“That’s true,” Aliva said. “I’m just glad we could get ship reservations for her visit.” She really didn’t like flying when it was cold.
Stanley nodded. “Ship passages get booked up earlier every year. And there’s talk of expanding the festival to three days.”
There were all kinds of things to see and do at the festival, but it was the athletic contests that attracted the largest crowds. A single archery contest had blossomed into a dazzling variety of events, all with substantial prizes. Taking advantage of Rohoville’s central location and river access, people flocked from all over Andoran’s Realm to attend the festival or compete.
“I’ll be here a while yet,” Stanley said in exasperation. “We think one of the other lizards may have caught it.”
Aliva wanted no part of that. After a quick kiss, she walked rapidly away from the ferry landing.
Romee had quickly grasped the fundamentals of fighting with a saber. The weapon was a suitable match for her height and build—not as good for blocking an attack, but with greater reach than a shortsword. She and Stanley had already ordered her a quality saber from Witch’s City Weapons, a shop owned by Draymund and Almera.
Spotting a familiar figure, Aliva called out, “Good evening, Grasapa. You don’t want to go anywhere near the confluence at the moment.” The woman was one of her father’s oldest friends.
Grasapa sniffed the air and nodded. “An ill lizard. I will take your advice.”
Aliva fell in alongside the woman as she headed back the way she had come. “Did you get an invitation to Gabriel and Kora’s marriage celebration?” she asked.
“We received an invitation, but we have already have plans to visit our daughter then.”
“I’m sure they’ll understand,” Aliva told her. “Isn’t Ariel pregnant again?”
Grasapa smiled proudly. “Yes, she is. This will be grandchild number three. And saying that makes me feel old.”
“You don’t look old to me.” The woman had a few gray hairs, but her face was still relatively unlined. And she was certainly fit.
As they neared the Two Rivers Inn, they could hear the sounds of drunken singing coming from inside. Located near the docks, it was both the oldest inn in Rohoville and the cheapest. That made it a particular favorite of sailors and traveling merchants.
Grasapa held up a hand and brought the two of them to a halt. “Listen,” she said.
It took Aliva a moment to understand. The strong female voice leading the singers was familiar. “Cinda,” Aliva said, and Grasapa nodded.
“She plays here two or three times a year. I will seek her out tomorrow to say hello.”
Aliva knew Cinda, but didn’t really consider the woman a close friend. “Does she ever play at The Lion?” She knew that inn sometimes hired entertainers.
&nb
sp; “I asked her about that once,” Grasapa said as they resumed walking. “Cinda prefers a more common crowd. She says that it is more fun.”
It certainly sounded like the people inside were having fun.
“Have you heard from your father lately?” Grasapa asked as they headed uphill.
Aliva sighed. “He sends me letters trying to persuade me to move to Kaldir, and I send him letters trying to persuade him to move here.” She hadn’t seen him in person in over a year. And that had been only briefly.
Grasapa gestured with her right arm. “I suspect that Albert will eventually move here.”
“I hope so, because we’re not moving there.” Stanley wasn’t about to give up his business. And then there was that whole working for Lasrina thing. Aliva couldn’t move anywhere without the goddess’s permission.
“I am sure that it will all work out.”
“I hope so.” Aliva gave Grasapa a sidelong glance. “You could always ask Audrey to provide you with transportation to the party. Just tell people you’re going for a long walk.”
Grasapa shook her head. “There will be too many people present who do not know Audrey’s secret.”
“I was just joking.”
“I know, but I actually did consider it.” Grasapa sighed softly. “It was not supposed to be this way. My intention was for Audrey to eventually take charge of all branches of Xlee’s Martial Arts Academy.”
She would no doubt watch over the schools in the future, but Aliva knew what Grasapa meant. Audrey was to have been Grasapa’s successor, just as Grasapa had succeeded Xlee.
They parted ways at the top of a hill, and Aliva made her way back home.
Aliva came to an abrupt stop as what she had just glanced through a shop’s windows registered. Was it possible? She retraced her steps and stared. The business had a new clerk, a half-elf with golden hair and dark eyes that sparked with life as she spoke with a customer. It was the woman that Aliva had implicated.
As I told you, Lasrina said in a condescending tone. Her path has merely been altered.
But at what cost, Aliva wondered. The woman had been expelled from her home. Still, seeing her alive and seemingly happy was a relief.
“How long?” Aliva whispered. “Will I be serving you the rest of my life?” It was something she had wondered, but been hesitant to ask.
That would be my preference, but I will not force the issue. I will, however, require sufficient notice in order to locate a suitable replacement. Shall we say one year?
“Agreed.”
Aliva resisted the urge to give notice immediately. Working for Lasrina had advantages, especially for a half-demon masquerading as a human. Knowing she had a choice was a revelation, filling her with hope.
After straightening her clothing and donning a friendly expression, Aliva went inside to meet the woman’s whose fate she had changed.
[ 31 ]
Bad Blood
Ferikellan decided against asking Rosalind to pass the salt shaker. In her current mood, she might well hurl it at his head. He had hoped that in the light of a new day—a lovely one, from the look of it—she might have calmed down. But her demeanor said otherwise. He flinched as she stabbed her fork into a piece of sausage. Then he glared at Vurk, who seemed to be deriving a great deal of amusement from their spat.
Differences in approach and methodology had led to minor disagreements as they worked together, but yesterday had been something rather more. The issue with blood types had ground their potion research to a halt, and obtaining more samples only confused the issue. And then had come a simple question from Rosalind about the catalyst. Vurk had done his best, but what they had been using was closer to platinum filings than powder. Even worse, close examination revealed that it was contaminated with iron from the file that Vurk had employed.
As he ate his own meal, Ferikellan considered how best to proceed. He had apologized, but only after making arguments that he now regretted. That the potions worked did not justify the sloppy preparation. His pride had blinded him to the reality that he was a mere dabbler in alchemy, not an expert.
After wiping her mouth daintily, Rosalind folded the cloth napkin carefully and placed it next to her plate. It was the cue for Harbik to clear her side of the table, which he promptly did. Vurk, meanwhile, was idly scratching himself between frequent yawns.
“I’ve signaled Audrey,” she said as he chewed his last bite. “She keeps putting me off, but I need to go back to that cavern. I’ll look for any books about blood, but I’m also going to see if there are any alchemy texts.”
Those copper cubes were yet another thing that he desperately wanted to study. How could they possibly function over such a great distance? And had they truly been crafted by Rymac?
“We require additional apparatus,” he said after using his own napkin. “I believe that we need a mortar and pestle crafted from hardened steel.” That would allow them to powder the platinum, or so he hoped.
“We also need a better scale,” she added thoughtfully. “Maybe I should speak with a skilled alchemist and see what they recommend,” she concluded with no trace of humor.
“Whatever you wish,” he told her, lowering his head. “I will visit our neighboring village and try to obtain samples of their blood.” It was something he had been considering, and it would give the two of them some time apart.
After a curt nod, she strutted out of the room.
“Want anything else, boss?” Vurk asked as he shuffled over.
“No, Vurk. We will depart for the village of Kaleena shortly. I will meet you downstairs.”
Ferikellan headed to the laboratory to gather the items he would need. What he really wanted was forgiveness from Rosalind. But that would have to be earned.
Walking several yards ahead, Vurk suddenly came to a stop. “There’s a path here,” he announced when Ferikellan caught up to him. “I can see smoke, too,” he added, looking south. “Chimneys or cook fires, from the look of it.”
“Lead on,” Ferikellan ordered, gesturing at the path.
The spears of tall grass to either side of the narrow path were brown, typical for the time of year. There were occasional stands of trees that still showed a few colorful leaves. The path detoured around a low hill and soon paralleled a wide stream. When the village came into view, they came to an abrupt stop.
There were only about a dozen buildings, all crafted from wood planks and with thatch roofs. Each had at least one stone chimney, and many of those were producing smoke. Next to the stream was a mill powered by a large water wheel. Ferikellan could also see signs of the town that had once occupied the site, including remnants of chimneys and stone foundations.
Vurk snorted. “Look, boss. They’re all naked.”
Birchbark had described the village but failed to mention that aspect. “They must be resistant to cold,” Ferikellan muttered, feeling himself flush with embarrassment. (He and Vurk were both warmly dressed.) Most of the amalgams he could see looked to be adults, but there were also children of various ages running about. The most common skin color was a pale blue, but he could see a variety of different shades. And they were completely hairless.
A sudden shout resulted in a near-universal change to a pale green shade. It was eerily silent as the children disappeared into houses, along with all but ten adults. One began heading toward them, and Ferikellan walked forward to meet her. He hoped it was Bethany, because all the adults looked alike to him.
After coming to a stop, he bowed formally. “It was not our intention to startle you. I apologize.”
She smiled as her skin shaded toward yellow. “We startle easily. And they’ve never seen a gworn before. What brings you here, Ferikellan?”
So it was Bethany. “I would like to take some blood samples from your kind as an aid to our research.”
“What kind of research?” she asked.
“It involves potions that permit safe traversal of the Gray Forest,” he explained.
Beth
any tilted her head to the right. “Fern mentioned something about that. Would we be able to use them?”
It was a good question. He briefly described the issues that he and Rosalind had encountered with different types of blood.
“I read something about blood types in one of Kaleena’s books,” she said thoughtfully. “Follow me.”
As they walked forward, Ferikellan noticed how orderly the village was. A few adults poked heads out of doorways, and Bethany made a broad gesture, crossing her forearms. By the time they reached the first of the houses, there were at least thirty of the amalgams outside. But it didn’t escape his notice that many now wore belts with knives or carried bows and had arrow-filled quivers strapped to their backs.
Vurk came up on his right. “Okay if I look around while you talk?”
“Yes,” Bethany replied before Ferikellan could say anything. “Expect to be asked why your skin doesn’t change color,” she added, and Vurk laughed before heading in the mill's direction.
“Kaleena is the one you named the village after?” he asked. He found he was becoming accustomed to their casual nudity, which was a relief.
Bethany’s skin shaded to a dull orange. “It was the name my mentor took when we were spared. I owe her my life.”
The house she led him into had four small beds and a low table surrounded by four cushions. The only other item of furniture lay hidden beneath a canvas cover. She removed it, revealing a large wooden bookcase so finely made that it looked out of place. “These were Kaleena’s,” she said, standing in front of it. “Some of the books are her personal journals.”
There were a variety of books on display. Several were about Zardis, and five books appeared to be histories of the infamous Zardis Thieves’ Guild. He wondered if Bethany would allow him to borrow any of them.
“Here it is,” she said, stretching to pluck a thin volume from the top shelf. Bound in dark leather, it looked ancient. He took it from her carefully.
After opening the book, he read the title aloud. “Blood Compatibility Among Humanoid Species. This may indeed prove useful.” He couldn’t wait to read it.
