An Unexpected Reunion

That evening, after dinner, I took over at the inn while Benji played with Zac. Benji held the boy up on the palm of his unusually-large hand, his palm against Zac’s chest, and ran around outside. Zac flapped his arms, roared, and made his attempt at a sound like he was breathing streams of fire.

As always, there was a pang of worry in my heart whenever I saw Zac pretending to be a monster.

I only had a moment to glance out the window and see this before someone shouted, “Hey! Can I get an Autumn Drop over here!” and I immediately returned to serving drinks. Like the other members of the serving staff there, I was a bit frantic. A flood of patrons had just poured in to loosen their tongues with spirits and bare their hearts to their closest friends in a fairly public place.

But all of them understood that this was not merely a tavern. After certain hours, there was a noise ban, and anyone who raised their voice above a certain level would be hoisted out upon their ears, likely by Benji himself.

A troop of traveling minstrels played their flutes and fiddles by the fireplace, with a pot set in front of them to collect tips. Every now and then, the patrons would drop a copper or even a silver in. This would raise the minstrels’ spirits, increasing the likelihood that their next song would be a happy one rather than a somber ballad.

The smell in the air was as pleasant as it can be, given that the room was full of men who’d been working in the fields, or with cattle all day. The overly-sweet perfumes and oils of the few women present were not much of an improvement.

Patrons carried on conversations about the upcoming harvest, the movements of the Tagrosi Republic’s army, and their individual prospects at finding someone to marry. Occasionally, someone would tell a joke so perfect that his listener would spray beer from his lips and pound the table with his fist.

Just when it appeared everyone there had been served, with full pitchers of ale, beer, and mead at their tables, the door swung open again and I caught sight of a familiar figure.

Elora stood in the doorway.

Her dark hair cascaded over her shoulders in soft waves. The years had been kind to her, making her pleasantly plump in a way that was both endearing and enticing. She wore a long, black coat with a collar rising up to just under her chin, and her eyes were milky white. Some things never changed.

Her face turned to me, but it was impossible to tell if those white irises had actually spotted me or not. Until she started strolling in my direction, the tails of her long coat billowing behind her. She pointed at me with a finger hidden within a black, leather glove, which made the gesture seem all the more threatening.

“Ahv!” she said aloud.

I pointed my own finger back at her. “Elora!” I responded, trying to remain calm as she drew near. Inside, my heart raced. As I said before, the punishment for stealing from the Great Library was death by crucifixion. While here, in Oakbridge, I was outside their jurisdiction, if Elora could find me here it meant I was not beyond their reach. If they knew I’d stolen Zac from them, they’d find a way to punish me.

Elora drew near to me, her judgmental chin pushed forward and her arms folded. “I need to speak with you in private. Now!”

I gestured to the patrons all around us. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m a little busy at the moment. Perhaps after my shift is over?”

“We got this!”

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The statement had come from the lips of Jeseka, one of the serving girls at Chalice Inn. She was a pretty young half-orc with a soft face, light green skin, pointed ears, and muscles more impressive than my own. Typically, I rather enjoyed her company, but at the moment I found her the most annoying person in the world.

“Are you sure?” I said, trying to indicate with the look in my eyes that I wanted an excuse not to talk to Elora. “We have a lot of patrons here this evening…”

Jeseka waved a dismissing hand. “It’s fine. We can handle it. Go catch up with your friend. There’s a table in the corner there that’s still empty.”

Realizing I was stuck now, I said, “Thank you Jeseka,” through gritted teeth.

“No problem, hun!” she responded, flashing her white, pointed teeth.

I shrugged at Elora and gestured to the table in the far corner. “Shall we?”

“Sure,” said Elora. She followed me to the table, on the way turning to Jeseka and saying, “I’ll take a Whipped Storm.”

“Right away, darlin’!” said Jeseka.

Elora and I sat at the far table. No sooner had my butt settled into the grooves of the chair then she said, “Explain to me what happened. We worked together for a year, then, one night, you just vanish. No note. No explanation. Nothing. And it just happens to be on the same night that the copper egg we found is cut to pieces. Seven years later, I find you working at an inn out on the frontier. Why? What’s going on, Ahv?”

How could I possibly explain this to her? How does one tell a former business partner that they left so they could raise a child who might very well be the Devil himself? Well, quite simply, one lies. I hated lying, I always have, and I’m not great at it, but in this case it seemed necessary.

There was no use trying to deny that I’d been raising a child. My guess was that even though she’d not said anything about Zac, she had likely seen him. Or maybe she’d not seen him yet, but if she stayed in town another day or so she was certain to.

“That night, I received word that a woman I’d had a brief fling with had died in childbirth, so I left to take care of my son.”

She leaned back from me, her wide-eyed stare displaying her surprise. “Oh… well… that’s good. Of course, family is important, and the boy needs care, I’m sure. But why didn’t you tell me? I could have helped you.”

I shrugged. “I guess… I was embarrassed. You know... that I’d bedded a woman and then left her. I didn’t want you to know I was that sort of man. It’s not gentlemanly at all.”

She smirked. “You have a point. If you hadn’t told me yourself I never would have guessed you’d do something like that. But we all have our flaws.” Her eyes narrowed again. “But, what about the copper egg? Are you telling me it was a coincidence that it just happened to break open the night you left to take care of your son?”

“Here you go, hun!” Jeseka swept in, set Elora’s drink down in front of her, and immediately slipped away again.

In response to Elora’s question, I shrugged once more. “Stranger things have happened. There was something odd with that egg, we both know it. You heard it ring when… I forget his name… that Councilman struck it.”

“Lavan,” she said. “And… yes, I heard it. You and I seemed to be the only ones who did.”

“Something was magical… or, perhaps not magical, maybe the word is ‘supernatural.’ Something was supernatural about that egg. Maybe that’s why it broke open.”

It wasn’t entirely a lie. The egg had broken of its own accord, I had nothing to do with it. Even if I had taken Zac out of it shortly thereafter.

“It just happened to break the night you left?” she asked, a skeptical eyebrow raised.

“I guess so.” My response was as flat as I could make it, but inside my every vein and nerve screamed at me to flee from Elora. I was certain she suspected more than she was letting on. Sweat beaded up on my brow, but I made no gesture to wipe it away, lest I draw attention to it.

“Well, I suppose I’ll have to take your word for it,” she said. I could almost swear I saw her eyes roll, but the whiteness of her irises made it impossible to know for sure. “Ugh… it’s been a long journey. How much is it for a room here for the night?”

“Umm… a… a room?” I stammered.

“Yes, a room,” she said, her brow furrowing. “I need a place to sleep tonight. Is there a reason you don’t want me staying here?”

“None at all!” I said, wringing my hands under the table. “A room is fifty coppers for one night.”

“Splendid.” She reached into her coat pocket and dug out a silver piece. “Go ahead and make it two nights.”