“Tell me what this is truly about,” LeafHop rumbled.

“While I’m confident the Radiance would like to know EchoingKnock’s whereabouts, my interest is of a more personal nature.” Yel hesitated but only for a moment, as if he’d known all along a deeper truth might be necessary to gain the information he desired. “My father fought beside him on Shrivemount Bridge. I harbor no ill will toward EchoingKnock, but he was with my father at his end. I would hear anything EchoingKnock might be willing to say on the matter, for closure’s sake.”

She took a long measure of Yel, and to his credit, he didn’t falter beneath the den mother’s intense scrutiny. Satisfied with what she saw in his face, she finally spoke again, her voice soft and apologetic.

“He stayed here for a time, but then he departed with the other hobs, all of them speaking of strange dreams and a meeting in the forest. Not a one would say where they were headed. If he’s out there, done hiding and moping about, you’ll hear tell of him soon enough.”

“You have my deepest gratitude, Den Mother.” Then he made a kind of choking sound followed by a deep phlegmy cough.

“You’ll have me blushing with talk like that,” she said, suddenly radiating youth. Had Raylin thought the hob’s smile was big before? Somehow it had nearly tripled in size. LeafHop watched Yel leave after a well-sketched bow, then gently shut the door.

“Was that hobbish?” she asked, once Yel had rejoined her. “What did it mean?”

“Haven’t you learned any? I know how fond you are of the hobs.” He must have seen her downtrodden expression because before she could answer, he added, “You could barely call what I just did speaking hobbish, and I only know that one short phrase. In a very general sense, it’s supposed to compliment a female hob’s beauty. If the hob who taught me was speaking the truth. I’ve not yet had the chance to verify the phrase's meaning, but it usually gets a reaction like the one you just saw.”

They walked further into the den, neither speaking. Before they had passed too deep, they heard the unmistakable sounds of hobs singing. Raylin had no illusions about her own singing ability. It was one of the few things about her that Gnolen couldn’t find a way to compliment. The hobs, on the other hand, didn’t seem to have a bad singer among all their race.

Hob song shook the air, voices high and low singing with a passion Raylin felt as tingles atop her head which vibrated through her bones and down to her feet. The stone thrummed with energy, and she was a part of it, her body an instrument for words she didn’t understand. On her first visit with LittleThaw, Raylin had wept tears of wonder and wasn’t sure she wouldn’t do so again.

They slowed to a crawl as they arrived at the workshops, the source of the music. There were thick stone doors here, but Raylin had never seen them closed. Though each hob practiced their shaping alone, they shared in the same song, drawing strength and inspiration from voices near and far.

Each room they passed was a work of art, the contents shaped according to the owner’s talents. The workshops changed completely from visit to visit as the hobs practiced their shaping. Some of their hands disappeared completely into the stone as they changed the entire structure of a wall. Others tickled the stone like a lyre’s strings, adding fine details as if it were the softest clay.

WideTongue’s room was her favorite. She had teased LittleThaw about the builder, but few hobs could match his skill at creating living creatures in stone. There were dreshen stags whose antlers filled an entire wall. Birds were frozen in flight, wings seeming to twitch in the wisp light. Salty drops of water clung to sparkling fish. His room changed every few days as if a storybook had come to life.

Raylin could have stood outside the workshops for an eternity and based on Yel’s near-childlike wonder expressed through wide eyes and an abashed smile, he felt the same. Eventually, he met her eyes, controlling his features once more, and through an unspoken agreement, they reluctantly pulled themselves away.

“Where are the children? Families?” Yel asked. “We have many throughout Core, but I’d thought the den would be full of them.”

As a Shield, Yel surely knew as much about hobs and their dens as her. Possibly more. But she didn’t feel like he was testing her.

“Believe it or not, there are plenty of things Shields don’t know,” Yel said, as if reading her thoughts. “Most of us have a general knowledge of the various races and their cultures. However, in my youth, I was more interested in learning how to fight, so my other lessons suffered.”

Raylin nodded and shared a fraction of what she knew about hobs, hoping Yel wouldn’t regret his curiosity.

“They keep to themselves deeper in the den where they have apartments. Most hobs don’t have kids until they’re in their early eighties or nineties, so they’ve already seen a lot of the world and are more than happy to stay at home. Some of them dabble in stone shaping if they get bored, but usually they farm. There are some fields outside the den where they grow grains and vegetables, raise some livestock, but you’d be surprised how much of their diet is grown underground. They’re like the burrowers in that regard.

“And they teach their kids. It’s a communal effort, raising the kids. Moms and dads take turns, gathering together in a group, always in a different place. They sing, mostly. Language lessons are fun because you can actually understand some of those songs, though there’s no consistency. For a few notes, they’ll be in the common tongue, the next they’re grunting and wheezing like a load of burrowers. Even though I despise math, those songs have a rhythm to them, a choppy beat. History varies the most, ranging from low and sad to high and thrilling.

“If you’re here for a few days, in Tailso I mean, you’ll see the families spending time outside. It’s often part of a lesson, identifying plants, learning about animals, and sometimes you’ll see them studying the movement of clouds or star patterns at night.

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

“When the kids play inside, the really young ones tend to accidentally melt the stone around them. Their parents spend a lot of time smoothing furrows in the ground from temper tantrums. You’ll usually see parents carrying sucklings around in a sling on their chest or back because of that. When LittleThaw was a baby, she melted herself through the floor of her apartment while her mom was in the other room for a few seconds. Luckily, LittleThaw fell into a cart of evermoss in the farming cave below, though I don’t think the fall would have hurt her. And no one was angry! I couldn’t believe it. Everyone was oohing and aahing over her shaping abilities.”

Raylin took a deep breath, realized how long she’d been talking, and blushed.

“Sorry, I’m rambling,” she said, slowing her speech. “It’s a bad habit. One that’s gotten me into trouble on many occasions.”

“How so?” Yel asked.

How much did she want to share with him? It was as she had thought earlier--they sent him on purpose. He was a male authority figure. A soldier. Unmaker touched, if you believed the druí Tenders. Based on her past experiences with men and the recent stories she had heard from the women training with Shay, she was inclined to believe. Except how then to explain Gnolen?

More than anything, Yel had a fatherly air to him. Raylin didn’t know if she was furious at whoever was trying to manipulate her emotions through Yel’s presence or whether she was secretly grateful. Maybe a bit of both.

“People think I’m showing off,” Raylin explained. “Back home, everyone seems so content to stay in Digrif’s Bay, never wondering too much about the outside world. And it’s not that they’re stupid. They know plenty I don’t. About trade routes, fishing, farming, weather patterns, home repair. But I was always the only person interested in the world outside the Bay. It made them feel small. I guess it’s nice to have a chance to let go of my self restraint for once.”

“Have things been better since coming to Tailso?” Yel asked.

“Absolutely,” Raylin said with a series of quick nods. “Shay has seen some of the world, so I’m always pestering her for stories. She doesn’t mind my rambling most of the time, and when she does, Shay isn’t afraid to be blunt. To be honest, I spend most of my time with Shay or LittleThaw.”

“The first hob you beat. The one who sank through the floor?”

“Don’t tell her I shared that story. Hobs can be modest--LittleThaw more than most. But you should see her shaping stone. They have her constructing a new wall around Tailso. Hobs cart huge chunks of stone out of the den, expanding the moss and mushroom farms below us. So LittleThaw has an enormous chunk of rock. Her hands dip into it, and she smooths it, kneading it in her hands like a ball of dough. By the time she’s turned her body away from the large stone to the wall, the rock in her hands is a perfect brick. Not many hobs can shape as quickly as her and none of the other females. She’s truly Maker blessed.”

“You two are close.” It wasn’t a question.

“She’s like a sister to me,” Raylin said, the words too simple for the weight of her bond to LittleThaw.

“Do you get along with the other trainees?” Yel asked.

“I don’t have any problem with them, if that’s what you’re asking,” she said, hesitant.

“It’s not,” Yel countered, gentle but firm.

“I’m guessing Shield Bree already told you I avoid all the other trainees. We exchange pleasantries and occasionally I’ll join a group of them for sparring practice or light conversation over a meal. But most of the women have tragic stories. And the men are Unmaker touched, too eager to solve their problems with a blade. No offense. You said earlier…” she trailed off, realizing she was rambling again.

“I’m a different man than I was in my youth,” Yel said, tasting the words as they left his mouth as if not sure of their truth.

“Every single one of those trainees will become someone different after their first battle,” he continued. “Those with a bit too much Unmaker in them will enjoy the killing. You’d never be able to tell from looking at them, but put them back on a battlefield, and they glory in it. Might stay on as soldiers, controlling that part of themselves, or they might become brigands or mercenaries.

“The others--I wouldn’t say they have the Maker in them. Maybe a few. The killing will make some of them sick and many won’t take any part in it. They won’t run, mind you, but they’ll hang back. Once they’ve had time to deal with their emotions, they’ll make solid soldiers. The next battle or the one after that, they’ll kill for the first time. They’ll do it because it’s necessary. The key is, they’ll see the difference. They won’t look forward to battle, will try to find other solutions, but sometimes there are enemies Unmaker touched through and through. It’s beyond a simple soldier to save that kind. It’s a mercy to put them down.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“Once. Still. I don’t know,” Yel said and threw up his hands. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had to confront that particular dilemma. These days I’m more of a diplomat than a soldier. We should talk more about it after your first battle.”

Fish guts! Raylin hadn’t thought much about what she would do when her training was complete. Whenever she worried over what she would do when she became a Shield, a list formed in her head--goals and how to achieve them--but she’d never narrowed her focus to consider the cost in blood it might take to achieve her goals.

Even when she played the board game, Raylin never paid attention to the individual soldiers. All her focus was on the shifting currents of the greater battle. But was that a strength or a weakness? If she asked Yel, he would be honest with her. He’d probably tell her it was a little of both.

Yel left her alone with her thoughts as they descended deeper into the hob den.

Directly beneath the keep, they entered the central chamber. Like everything in the den, it was a multi-purpose room whose furniture and ornamentation could change based on need. Only the room’s basic structure and supporting columns stayed the same, lest overzealous shapers bring the entire keep down on their heads. The last time she had been in the chamber, hobs had been reading thick tomes, lounging in long flowing chairs which had been part of the floor. Wisp bundles had filled the entire space with a soft yellow light.

Now the chamber was empty save for three stone tables. Three hobs. Three games.

A familiar nervousness tickled her stomach, but as always before a match, she felt charged with excitement so thick it threatened to burst from her chest in discharges of magical energy. Yel must have sensed it because he grinned, nodding his head approvingly.

As she approached the hobs, Raylin realized she didn’t recognize any of them. She didn’t know every hob in Tailso, but the chances of Shield Yel setting her against three she didn’t know was unlikely. He had probably brought them. One was much smaller than the others, dressed in browns and greens of the forest hobs. It was entirely possible Yel had brought the best three hobs in all of the Radiance.

Her earlier excitement warred with nervousness, both emotions equally matched for a time as she waited for the match to begin.