by Pirateaba
She didn’t cry. She couldn’t cry. But something in her heart broke. Erin whispered the words into the night.
“Goodbye.”
She listened, hoping to hear a reply. But all she heard was silence.
3.25
That night, Erin had a nightmare.
It started, as nightmares sometimes do, happily. Erin was dreaming she was back in her inn, with Mrsha and Selys and even Lyonette. She was watching Ryoka put on a play of Hamlet and chasing Lyonette around with a sword, trying to kill her because she was a [Princess].
Generally speaking that would have given the dream away, but Erin was in the dream and only yelled at Lyonette to hurry and get stabbed so she could go offstage and get water. Mrsha was wiggling around in Erin’s lap when she heard the knocking at the door.
Someone knocking? Even in her dream, the idea of someone coming to her inn was unexpected. And Erin didn’t want to have a guest. She wanted to watch Lyonette duel Ryoka with poisoned swords! Bemused and half-annoyed, Erin stood up. She walked over to the door—or rather found herself there without moving her feet, and opened it.
A skeleton stood in the doorway. Toren. Erin opened her mouth to order him, but she stopped.
There was no flame in his eyes. No purple fire—or even the original blue fire of his eyes. Nothing.
She stared into empty sockets. Dead sockets. He was dead.
Erin took a step back. Behind her, the inn vanished. The people in it disappeared. And Toren stood in the doorway.
His eyes began to bleed. Red liquid trickled out of the gaping holes in his head. Erin looked around. She had to clean up the blood. But then she looked down and she saw she was holding a bloody blade in her hands.
“Out, darn spot.”
Only that wasn’t the right line, was it? Was it damn spot? Erin stared down at her hands. Now she was on stage, only she was quoting from Macbeth instead of Hamlet! The crowd in the inn jeered at her and began to throw things. Miss Agnes stood to Erin’s left.
“I told you we didn’t have time to cook, dear. Look—they’re running out of food to throw.”
Erin looked, and Toren was standing in front of her.
He was dead.
He reached out for her. Erin backed away, dropping the knife, her hands still crimson. The blood dripped to the ground and began a stream. A river. It washed her away and she reached out for help, but Toren was dead.
And she fell, fell as the blood washed her down and suddenly she was falling into Toren’s eye socket. And the blackness was all around her and he reached for her—
Erin sat up with a gasp, sheets covered in sweat. It was still dark. She could hear movement downstairs—she realized she was in Agnes’ inn at the same time she remembered to breathe. She was frightened, upset, still half-asleep. And deeply sad.
She’d killed him. Toren. A skeleton, yes, but her skeleton. Something…someone who could think.
Just like that. But she had to do it. She had to. He’d killed people. Erin just wished she could have stopped him, could have…
“Why didn’t I realize it sooner?”
She put her head in her hands. She’d just thought he was a mindless thing, that was all. That his quirks were just…that. How could she have dreamed he’d ever learn to think? When she’d first met him, so long ago, he’d been so simple. But when she looked back, it all made sense.
He had learned to think. He’d found a soul, even if it was one that let him kill people. And she’d killed him. Just like that. In a second. With a few words.
And the worst part was, he might not be dead. Wouldn’t it be just like a movie, or a book to have him come back? If he was still alive—
Somehow, Erin got up. She couldn’t stay in bed, anyways. She had a job. Making food for her guests. She didn’t want to do it, but that was the thing about jobs. You had to do them, and there was a bit of relief in having to do something right now.
“Hey, Erin. Good m—”
Ceria Springwalker froze with the greeting on her lips as Erin walked down the stairs. Erin pretended not to hear and moved slowly into the kitchen. Part of her felt bad, but—what would she say to Ceria? It wasn’t a good morning at all.
Erin was in no mood to smile that day. She made food mechanically, but she had no desire to talk with anyone or deal with a crowd. And so the rest of the Horns of Hammerad, waking up to the smell of good food—noticed that the inn was oddly empty that morning.
Surprisingly so, given the popularity of last night and the quality of the food. It had to be Erin’s new Skill, but no one dared suggest to the girl that she might be using it unconsciously. Even the supposed actual innkeeper, Miss Agnes, walked wide of Erin as she sat at a table with the others and picked at her plate.
“This is your fault.”
Ceria told Pisces that over breakfast. He nodded, uncharacteristically humble.
“I regret the necessity of what occurred last night. But I must point out that Erin’s decision was the most correct one she could have made.”
“That doesn’t change how she feels. She likes Goblins. How do you think she feels about killing her pet skeleton?”
No one answered the rhetorical question. Ceria drummed her fingers on the table and looked at Pisces sideways. She hesitated, then asked anyways.
“I’m not asking you to, but…can you make another one?”
Across the table, Yvlon sat up straight in her chair and looked hard at Ceria. She hadn’t said a word to Pisces all morning, not even to greet him. Ceria ignored the look and stared at Pisces. He ran a hand through his hair, shrugging and then shaking his head.
“Theoretically? Of course. I did it once and I am a higher level than I was. But practically? The creation of Toren was a culmination of years of work. I had to do much…groundwork and the materials I used in his animation were exceedingly rare. Practically unique.”
He looked at Ceria and then away. With a jolt she realized there could only be one thing he was referring to. He’d used those? On Toren?
Surely not all of them? It explained how Toren was able to regenerate. But how many had Pisces used? She opened her mouth to ask for more details and saw Yvlon staring at her. Ceria closed her mouth. Pisces went on.
“However, even if I did attempt to mimic my original design…I believe the product would not be something Miss Solstice desires. As you so adroitly pointed out, the theorems Cognita passed on to me were incomplete. True sentience is a byproduct of the spell matrices animating Golems and in this case, the undead.”
Ceria nodded, although she saw Yvlon’s eyes quickly glaze over. That’s what happened when Pisces began to pontificate. Ksmvr was still listening intently, though.
“For all Cognita was Archmage Zelkyr’s greatest creation, even she admits her existence is an accident. The same goes for my creation of a new skeleton. Either the same issue will arise again, or I will create a truly mindless slave. Irregardless, it will not be Toren.”
“Yeah. I get it.”
Ceria nodded tiredly and looked at Erin. The girl was just staring down into her plate of bacon and rearranging them. Not into a face—she was stacking them up and then spearing as many bits as she could with her fork.
“We should do something for her.”
“I wish you the best of luck.”
Pisces nodded. Ceria turned to him, frowning.
“What’s that supposed to mean. If you think you’re going to run off while we—”
He raised his hands.
“Please, Springwalker. Credit me with some—well, that is part of the reason. But I believe you will agree with my reasoning when I explain myself.”
“Hurry up, then.”
Pisces nodded. He was clearly trying to make an effort to be sociable today.
“I would like to hire a horse—or perhaps wagon—and visit Albez to recover an artifact our expedition left behind.”
“What?”
The other Horns of Hammerad stared at him. Ceria frowned.
Her eyes widened as she realized what Pisces was talking about. She glanced around as he nodded, keeping his face smooth and calm. No one was sitting close to them, for which Ceria was suddenly grateful.
“It slipped my mind as well, but I believe it would be an egregious waste to leave it there. With luck, any scavengers will have overlooked it if they even found our dig site.”
“True.”
Ceria nodded. She ignored Yvlon and Ksmvr’s confused looks as she pondered the issue.
“Yeah, going now would be best. We don’t have much coin—”
“We could borrow it.”
Dismayed, Ceria looked at Erin. But they had no choice, did they?
“Alright, I’ll ask Erin. Pisces, are you intending to go alone? Albez attracts monsters and more could have popped up by now.”
He raised his eyebrows.
“I am adept at using the [Invisibility] spell, you know.”
She hadn’t forgotten. Ceria frowned at Pisces.
“Monsters have noses. Some of them do, at any rate.”
Ksmvr raised his hand.
“I shall go with comrade Pisces. Although what is it that we are seeking?”
Pisces smiled knowingly.
“Simply recall our journey through the dungeon and you will come to the natural conclusion, Ksmvr.”
The Antinium paused. Yvlon looked at Ceria. The half-Elf just shrugged.
“Probably best if we don’t say it out loud. You never know.”
The woman frowned. Ceria looked at Erin and sighed.
“I’m going to stay with Erin. But if Ksmvr goes with you, Pisces, I’ll feel a lot better. Yvlon—”
“I’ll stay here.”
Yvlon said that almost too quickly. Ceria looked at her and nodded slowly.
“Then I’ll talk to Erin.”
The girl was staring at a fork loaded with greasy bacon when Ceria walked over.
“Hey, ah, Erin.”
“Mm?”
The girl didn’t look at her. Ceria coughed, looked around once, and then bent over to talk with her.
“I’m really, really embarrassed to ask this, but Pisces thinks there’s something else we could recover from Albez. Could you—”
Erin unhooked her money pouch from her belt and thrust it at Ceria.
“Grn.”
The half-Elf blinked at the pouch. She took it, extracted a few coins, and then gave the pouch back to Erin. She tossed the coins at Pisces who magically caught them in the air. He nodded to her and walked purposefully out of the inn with Ksmvr following. Ceria caught the Antinium asking Pisces again as they left.
“What is the artifact? I do not understand.”
Yvlon came over and smiled at Erin.
“Hey, Erin. How are you doing?”
“Blmblcrkn.”
It was probably a reply. Ceria stared at Erin, and then took the plate away from her. And the fork. It clearly wasn’t helping matters.
“Why don’t we go around the city? Come on.”
Ceria and Yvlon practically dragged Erin out of the inn, whereupon both did all they could to cheer Erin up. It worked, a bit. But the main reason Erin snapped out of her fugue was when the [Actors] came calling.
“Another huge success. I was on patrol and I was talking nonstop about the play last night. Barely got down the street before my shift was over.”
Wesle was talking excitedly with the others, stroking his non-existent mustache excitedly. Beside him, Jasi was all aglow with happiness, as she had been every day. Grev was already running about, his rucksack bulging with props, changes of costumes, and scripts.
Wesle and Jasi weren’t the only two [Actors] of course. But they were certainly the stars. The other men and women – a surprising number being from the Watch – were all eager, expectantly waiting on Erin to help them learn another play in their spare time.
Face with such enthusiasm, Erin couldn’t help but respond in kind. They’d just finished learning Hamlet, and while they might perform that now and then, she had to get them working on another play.
She hesitated. In truth, Erin hadn’t gone to that many plays over the course of her life. She now wished she’d seen musicals like Wicked, or at least watched it on Youtube. She knew Phantom of the Opera of course, but she didn’t actually like that play so much. The Phantom was a jerk when you got down to it.
What else could she perform? Macbeth? Erin shuddered. No. Not that. And she didn’t want to do Shakespeare at the moment for much the same reason.
Pygmalion? But it would be so hard to do the accents…Erin frowned. What about A Doll’s House? But then…that was too modern, wasn’t it?
“Drat.”
Ceria and Yvlon stood to the side of the inn, cleared out to give the [Actors] some room, talking intently. Excusing herself from the [Actors] who seemed only too happy to compare stories about the accolades they’d received, Erin wandered over. Would they like to act? Ceria probably wouldn’t, but then again…and Yvlon could probably play a great knight, right?
“I don’t know what you’re thinking of doing, but don’t.”
Erin paused as she got within earshot. Ceria was talking in a serious tone of voice, staring at the other adventurer. Yvlon looked…tense.
“He’s a danger. You heard what he can do!”
“I know. And I’ve known how talented he is. He might be arrogant and stupid and thoughtless, but Pisces doesn’t deserve to be killed just for creating one undead.”
“And the people that thing killed? What if he makes another one?”
“If he does, I’ll make sure he keeps it on a leash.”
“How?”
Yvlon folded her arms and winced. Ceria scowled, not able to answer.
“The fact that he hasn’t made another one tells you he’s thought of the dangers as well.”
“Or that he’s waiting to gain enough levels to control them completely. And then what? Do we have a second Necromancer walking about?”
“I’m telling you, it won’t come to that.”
“I can’t—”
The two women stopped when they realized Erin was standing next to them. Ceria turned, trying to smile. Yvlon didn’t even bother trying.
“Erin. Um, is something wrong?”
“Don’t kill Pisces just because he made Toren. Please.”
Erin said that to Yvlon. The woman crossed her arms defensively, looking grim.
“I know he’s your friend. But I can’t just ignore what I’ve heard.”
“Pisces isn’t a bad person.”
Yvlon stared at Erin incredulously. Ceria had a similar look on her face as well. Erin shook her head.
“He’s not. I know he’s really, really, really annoying, but he’s actually sort of a good guy inside. He’s saved my life at least twice. One time he froze a swarm of Acid Flies that were about to melt me, and the other—he sent a bunch of undead to protect me when Skinner attacked.”
“Really? I didn’t hear about that.”
“I never told anyone. But I saw them—ghouls and zombies and skeletons. They helped protect me when the undead were attacking my inn. Only Pisces could have sent them, but he never mentioned it.”
Yvlon hesitated, but she still looked unconvinced.
“Still—”
“You’re on his team. You can watch him better than if you scare him away.”
Ceria reminded Yvlon. The woman grimaced and sighed.
“Fine. He’s my teammate too, Ceria. Silver and steel, why can’t anything ever be simple? My brother never mentioned having trouble with his group, and one of them is a Dwarf.”
“A Dwarf? Really?”
Erin was fascinated. Yvlon nodded, smiling a bit.
“They’re rare enough on Terandria, never mind the other parts of the world. Ylawes said it was pure luck he ran into him in a tavern.”
“He’s your brother, right? He came all this
way to look for you?”
That sounded like a great brother to Erin, who’d never had siblings. Yvlon grimaced, though. She spoke reluctantly.
“He’s…overprotective. And a far better adventurer than I.”
That was clearly all she wanted to say on the topic. After a second Yvlon changed the subject. She glanced behind Erin at the [Actors].
“I thought they came here to learn a new play.”
“They did. I just don’t know what I should teach them.”
Erin confessed to her friends. Ceria just shrugged. She liked the play she’d seen, but she couldn’t imagine practicing with the enthusiasm the others seemed to have.
“Let us know if we can help. I’m not going to memorize any lines, but I could always do a few spells if the performance needs more action.”
She flicked a few sparks of electricity from her fingers, making Yvlon swear. Ceria looked abashed—Erin saw the electricity trying to jump onto the metal on Yvlon’s arms.
“You can do that? Well of course!”
Erin slapped her forehead as she realized how stupid she’d been. Special effects! Any [Mage] could add so much to a performance! Especially someone like Ceria. At the very least, she could help cool down the inn when it was so full of people. Even on a winter night, so many bodies were stifling hot. But Ceria could probably lower the temperature enough to…
Erin’s thoughts slowed down. She stared at Ceria. The half-Elf just blinked at her.
“Erin?”
She had lovely blonde hair. Well—in point of fact Ceria had dirty blonde hair. But Yvlon, now, she looked beautiful, and blonde as could be. Both women made Erin jealous—she didn’t think she had a bad face or hair, but compared to Yvlon’s beauty and Ceria’s otherworldly appearance, she felt plain. And Ceria could use frost magic.
And it was winter…
“Erin? Are you okay?”
Winter plus frost magic equaled…what? It had to do with plays, and it was on the tip of her tongue! Erin screwed up her face as Ceria looked at her.
“Erin, do you need to sit—”