by Eric Ugland
He sighed, pulled the paper off and set it to the side, revealing a box made out of wood.
“Nicely made,” Reinhart said, whistling low as he ran his hands over the box.
After a minute or two of intense scrutiny, he popped the top of the box open.
He sighed, and stood up straight.
“Nothing special about it,” Reinhart said. “No traps. Just, well, whatever might be inside. And I detect nothin’ about whatever gift it is. Anything else you might need, your grace?”
“Uh,” I said, looking over to Nikolai.
The chancellor gave a short shake of his head.
“That’s it,” I said. “Thank you.”
“Happy to help, your grace,” Reinhart said with a slight nod. Then he walked out of the room.
3
Inside the package was a very fine scarf, made of incredibly soft wool, or something like wool, in Coggeshall colors: green, white, and black.
I wished I could still use the identification spell to see what exactly it was, but I’d probably just blow up the room if I tried.
“Don’t put that on,” Nikolai said.
“I’m not that big an idiot,” I replied, tossing the scarf to the side.
“I don’t think The Master would poison you with a gift,” Emeline said, her ritual stuff all packed up and put away. “That’s not his style.”
“What is his style?” I asked.
“Living in the shadows and killing anyone he likes. Growing in power. Not poisoning or trapping.”
“These are not important questions for right now,” Nikolai said. “We need to figure out how to hold everyone in place, so we can smoke out The Master.”
“Do you think he’ll kill anyone while he’s here?” I asked.
“I cannot imagine he will be able to help himself.”
“Then maybe it’d be better to just let him go.”
Nikolai took a deep breath and sat down on the chair in front of my desk, giving me a slow nod.
“There is certainly some merit to—” he started.
“You cannot be considering this,” Emeline snapped. “It is—”
I held up a finger at her. Then I looked over at the minotaurs, who were still standing on either side of the open door, and gestured for them to shut the door.
They did, taking their positions outside with the others.
“Now you can yell,” I said.
“Why—” Emeline started. But her bluster was a bit blown by then, and she petered out.
“If we let him go,” I said, “he goes somewhere else and becomes a problem for someone else.”
“Letting a killer like that just go—”
“It’s not just letting him go,” I spat back. “It’s keeping our people safe. I can’t help everyone.”
“That is not true,” Emeline snapped. “You’re more powerful than you realize, and—”
“Both of you,” Nikolai said calmly, his voice even enough to cut between the two of us, “think back to our conversation prior to Master Claewins’ interruption. Even if we were to allow this self-proclaimed Master to leave, there is little chance it would happen until after Fiends’ Night. Which means, if we would like to catch him, we have until then to do so. And if we would like to let him go, we have until then to protect our people against him.”
“Why can’t he leave until after Fiends’ Night?”
“No one travels then,” Emeline said.
“Why?”
“I think you know that there are other planes of existence neighboring our own. We visited once such place, if you recall,” Nikolai said. “The hells are full of devils, who are often referred to as fiends. On the winter solstice every year, the boundaries between this plane and those planes are weakest, and on that one night, the fiends breach that boundary and wander our world.”
“Okay, so it’s devils everywhere outside?”
“Yes. Depending. I suppose it’s possible you’d find yourself in a place with little in the way of devils. They might not be in some of the lesser populated areas, or some of the more dangerous areas. I doubt many fiends would go up against the truly powerful beings across Vuldranni. But anywhere there is a concentration of souls, you’re likely to find fiends walking. And hunting. The only real protection is that fiends may not enter a home uninvited.”
“So everyone just hunkers down for the night?” I asked.
“That’s certainly the simplest explanation of it. You hunker down in a home and invite no one in. But the night is the longest of the year, lasting across the entire day until the following dawn. At this far north, it is close to forty hours of darkness.”
“So we hunker down for forty hours. Not so bad.”
“It is the ‘home’ aspect that provides difficulty for larger populations.”
“Or caravans,” Emeline offered.
Nikolai nodded at her suggestion. “Or armies in the field.”
“What about boats?” I asked.
“What about them?” Nikolai replied.
“What do they do?”
“Likely, they exist, as do the caravaners. Either find a safe port where they might make a home for a night, or make their ship into a home for the night.”
“Make it into a home?”
“That is one of the more important aspects of Fiends’ Night, the making of a home. We have been waiting for a chance to discuss how you would like to handle this. In fact, it was to be first on the list of our council meeting on the morrow — later today, I suppose — but we might as well start now.”
“Um, can you tell me how you make this place a home?”
“There are a few general principles. The most important is a shared meal, freely given.”
“We do that all the time.”
“No, we provide food that everyone eats at their leisure. If you wish to have the entire mountain work as a singular ‘home,’ we must all break bread and eat together.”
“Okay, a feast then.”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“Gifts,” Emeline said.
“In some cultures,” Nikolai said. “The meal is the most important aspect; that is prevalent across the world, as far as I know. The rest is more—”
“Gifts are important,” Emeline said.
“In Osterstadt, yes. But in central Glaton, it is dancing. Music and dancing. The dwarves believe in working on a group project. I daresay there is something else the kobolds do, and the battenti. Even the minotaurs likely have their own, well, traditions.”
“But no one leaves. No one travels around Fiends’ Night?”
“Not on the day itself, no. There might be times where one travels to be with their family on Fiends’ Night, since that is said to be a stronger protection. A whole family inside a structure makes it more of a home. But once the meal happens, no one leaves.”
“Okay. So we need a feast. And maybe we find out some of the most popular traditions among our group. And— wait, what about all the workers on the other fort?”
“They should already be on the way here. Though I believe Lady Northwoods was planning on leaving this morning to spend the next few days with her father at his estate.”
“That can’t happen,” I said.
“Something I am realizing now.”
“Order her to stay.”
“I cannot.”
“Why not— oh. Me. I have to order it.”
“Yes, your grace.”
“Fine, she cannot leave. No one can leave until the weather is better. I won’t have my people lost in the snow. And she has agreed to be my people, right?”
“Yes.”
“Boom. Edict.”
“Your grace, you do need to actually issue the edict. Not just say ‘boom.’”
“How do I do that?”
“I’m sorry,” Emeline said, “but I need to find a safe place to sleep. There’s—”
“Shit,” I said. “That’s right. He’s probably gunning for you.”
> Nikolai held up a finger. “We cannot make it seem as if you know he is here. We must keep everything ordinary. Which means—”
“I will be killed if I sleep in my room,” Emeline said, genuine fear in her eyes.
“You have been left alone until now,” Nikolai said. “You believe that is due to luck?”
“I think he’s biding his time,” Emeline said. “I’d imagine he’d be looking to take me tonight and leave in the morning. Maybe take me with him.”
Nikolai nodded a few times, then looked over to me.
“There is one place you would be safe and it might not be seen as too outside normalcy.”
“Where?” she asked, hopefully.
“With Montana.”
Emeline’s eyes locked on mine.
“Wait, what?” I asked.
Emeline laughed. “Might get some people talking.”
“But no one would think it outside the realm of possibility.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“It means everyone is expecting your grace to dip his royal wick—” Nikolai started.
“Okay, what the actual fuck?”
“Popular topic at the cantina,” Emeline said with an eyebrow raise.
“And you’re ready to make it seem like—” I started.
“At least until we have addressed The Master issue,” Nikolai said. “I think it is best we keep the illusion alive.”
“And so what’s going on right now? You’re in here with us having a threesome?”
“It’s too late for your humor,” Nikolai said. “I will transmit your orders to the guard, that no one is to leave Coggeshall until after Fiends’ Night. Yes?”
“Sure.”
“Lovely. Good night, your grace,” Nikolai said, with a slight bow of his head. And then he strode from the room.
I looked over and saw Emeline already in the bed. She grinned at me.
“I do get the bed, right?” she asked.
4
She got the bed.
I slept on a pile of extra blankets, and when I woke up freezing in the middle of the night, I summoned a bunch of prinkies to act as my living blanket. Of course, when I woke up in the morning, all those damn prinkies were crowded under me for warmth, and I was cold as hell.
I snatched the prinkies and threw the little furry fellows across the room until I could get up without squishing any of them.
Emeline was snoring softly in the bed. The snow continued to fall outside in the darkness.
I pulled my clothes on, and then some armor, and then got my unfillable knapsack on my side, and went through a few stretches. I jumped up and down a few times, testing to see if Emeline was going to wake up.
Time to start the day.
As soon as I stepped through the door, my minotaur guards stepped up next to me.
“Stick with the room,” I said. “Make sure Emeline is safe.”
“Yes, your grace,” the bigger of the two said.
“Any idea what time it is?”
The minotaurs looked at each other, realized neither knew, and then shook their heads.
I nodded, and headed down the long set of stairs to where the rest of my people lived. It felt odd being so separated from everyone, but then again, that’s what everyone seemed to want. I was supposed to have a nicer place than all of them, and privacy.
Whatever.
I walked and walked, until I got to the main hall. Then I went outside.
Snow gusted inside as I opened the large double doors. It was getting deep, already more than a foot. Snowfalls were one of my favorite things in life, both lives, actually. I crunched through the snow, looking up at the clouds, lit by the torches and fires along our walls. Low clouds.
There were a few guards huddled near fires at various points along the walls, but other than that, I was the only activity. The brownie tree had a low glow about it, welcoming and cozy. I headed over to their tree, and as soon as I stepped under its branches, the extreme cold slipped away, replaced by a gentle warmth.
“Mornin’ your grace,” a sharp, high voice said.
I looked around and couldn’t see where it came from. But, still important to be polite.
“Morning,” I said.
“Up here,” the voice replied.
I looked up to see a brownie in full brownie armor sitting on a branch.
“On guard?” I asked.
“I am,” he replied. “Bit redundant, what with the wall and all, but we’ve thought we were safe in the past, and we were not. Something I might help you with?”
“Just awake early,” I said. “Taking a stroll in the snow.”
“Ah, well then, I shall take no more of your time.”
“Are you guys, I mean, do you know about Fiends’ Night?”
“Of course.”
“What do you do for the whole be in a home thing?”
“Be inside a home.”
“The tree?”
“Probably.”
“Do you want to come inside MountainHome?”
“For Fiends’ Night?”
“Yup.”
“Is that an official invitation?”
“Is there something more I should know about brownie culture before I say yes?”
“No. Just trying to gauge the seriousness of the offer.”
“I feel it’d be safer if we were all in the same place.”
“Can’t fault that logic,” the little brownie said. “I’ll pass it up the chain of command and get an answer to you sometime soon, your grace. If that is all right by you.”
“Sure.”
He gave me a jaunty salute, then stepped off the branch and just sort of disappeared out of view.
“Neat trick,” I said.
“Fairies got to fairy, after all,” I heard him say from somewhere in the upper branches.
I shook my head and walked back out into the snowy cold.
5
I made a circuit of the walls, checking in with the guards on duty, looking over everything. Eventually I found my way to the second-floor cantina, where a very nice dwarf made me an impressive breakfast spread. Omelette, extra-thick bacon, several pieces of a sweet bread toasted golden brown and loaded with salty butter, fried potatoes, a mug of milk, a mug of coffee, and a bowl of berries. The whole thing took up my entire table, but the dwarf was so happy to be cooking for me. Her smile stretched across her entire face and she stood there a moment longer than necessary before heading back to the kitchen.
The food was all delicious, and I chose to remain ignorant of where it might have come from. There was every likelihood the bacon was actually some kind of worm. The milk might have been from a worm as well. Or maybe there was some mold that, when squeezed, produced a milk-like substance. Nothing I needed to know. All I cared about was that it tasted good, and didn’t hurt.
I’d managed to polish off a bulk of it before someone sat down across from me.
“Good morning, Eliza,” I said.
“What is the meaning of keeping me here?” she asked, her beautiful face uncharacteristically hard.
“I’m just so enamored by your sparkling wit and—”
“Oh? Is that why—”
I saw where the conversation was going and held up a hand.
“Let’s just hold it there, Lady Northwoods,” I quickly said.
Using her title had the desired effect of shutting her up immediately. Her jaw clamped shut, but I could see its muscles spasming in anger.
I leaned across the table.
“Remember why we went to Osterstadt?” I whispered.
She nodded.
“We corrected the wrong issue.”
She frowned, giving me a quizzical look.
I glanced around the cantina, and saw that we were alone, save the dwarf cook. I gave the cook a little wave. “Breakfast for Lady Northwoods, if you please.”
The dwarf smiled broadly and jumped into action.
“I’m trying to keep this on the DL�
��” I started.
“DL?” Eliza asked.
“Down-low.”
“What does that mean?”
“Like a secret.”
“Why?”
“You know, I’m not exactly sure. Just used it, and—”
“You should know why you say things.”
“Sure, but then again, I don’t. So I guess I’m just adding this to the list—”
You have been offered a quest:
The Etymology of Etymology
Discover the origins of your commonly used phrases.
Reward for success: +1 intelligence
Penalty for failure (or refusal): none
Yes/No
“Son of a—”
“Is there an issue, your grace?” Eliza asked.
“No. But we need to keep things secret because that one thing we were trying to fix in Osterstadt is now among us.”
“He’s here—” she started, involuntarily getting to her feet.
I grabbed her hand and yanked her back into her chair.
“We have to make sure everything seems normal,” I said. “We have an advantage until he knows we know.”
“Then you should allow me to go to my father’s for Fiends’ Night.”
“Can’t do that,” I replied. “You go, and others will leave. I need you to remain in place so we can keep everyone else here too.”
She gritted her teeth.
“Are you ordering me to remain?” she asked.
“I would really prefer if I didn’t need to do that.”
She didn’t respond. Instead, she glared at me until the dwarven cook appeared with way more breakfast than Eliza could possibly finish, a copy of my own. Eliza, ever the lady, smiled and thanked the cook with what seemed like genuine appreciation, and tucked into the meal before the cook could say anything.
As soon as the cook left our table, however, Eliza’s smile vanished, and her glare returned.
“I disagree with your decision,” she said. “Fiends’ Night is a danger we must all face every year, and every precaution should be taken to prevent—”
“I get it,” I said. “I understand it’s a big deal—”