Aaspaelwin and Sekafi sat by a table in the back of the Red Manticore. The other patrons of the inn glanced sideways at them from time to time but otherwise didn't appear to care much about them. Aspen sighed and sipped on some imported apple cider as he scanned the room for the hundredth time. A big fireplace lay dark beside them, crowned by a large scorpion-like stinger. On the walls many oil lanterns glowed, giving the room a warm tone. Mostly humans occupied the tables and the counter, but two dwarves, an ikelos, and a huge black minotaur sat together around another table. No humans joined them, he noted.

'Where is that rabid dog?' Sekafi muttered under her breath.

He turned his eyes onto her. Her ears lay flattened against her wide skull and her fur looked oddly fluffy. 'You're puffed up. Calm down,' he chided, smirking.

'I'm not puffed up,' she snorted. 'I just don't trust him. And he's not here as he should be. Where is he?'

Aspen snickered. She seemed to dislike Sir Hapow more than he did, and he was the one who'd gotten beaten up. He rolled his shoulders uncomfortably at the memory and took another sip of the cider. Hapow had been friendlier since they'd saved his ass though. 'Maybe he's just late? Something could have happened.'

'Or he ditched us,' she muttered.

Aspen glanced at the door as some people left. Had he ditched them? The street outside lay dark and quiet. Fewer people than usual. They were afraid of the plague. He was too, but there wasn't much he could do about it. And he suspected it wasn't spread by normal means anyway. Leaning back, he waited as patiently as he could. After a while he pulled out his knife and studied it, running his fingers along the runes etched along its blade and handle. What luck he'd found it that day. When he'd shown it to Sekafi and explained it, she'd been amazed. Not often he got the chance to impress her.

The door opened and a man in a grey cloak entered. Aspen sheathed the knife and watched as the stranger drifted up to the barkeep and ordered something to drink. The lanky man pushed back his hood and revealed a sickly pale face topped by a greasy mop of brown hair. Several small pouches and a knife clung to his belt. Aspen narrowed his eyes suspiciously. He'd never seen the man before. Was he just being unfairly judgemental? He hid his staring behind the mug of cider and pondered. Grey cloak. Thrown pouch of something. Could it be?

'Hey, should we leave?'

Aspen almost jumped off the chair as Sekafi's voice shook him from his thoughts. She laughed a series of high pitched yaps.

'Don't startle me like that,' he huffed and looked back towards the counter. The man was gone. 'Yhori's fires,' he muttered and ran a hand through his hair.

'What?' Sekafi asked, her tone serious again. She scanned the room with her golden eyes.

'Nothing. Probably,' he said and downed the last bit of the cider. 'We should go, it's getting too late.'

'Nothing?' She arched an eyebrow. 'You look way too serious for it being nothing, elfling.'

He smiled. 'I thought I saw someone... but I'm probably just jumping at shadows.'

'You certainly jumped.' She nudged him in the side as they made their way towards the door.

'That was your fault, fluffy.' His tone light, he still glanced back with unease as they left. Why hadn't Sir Hapow come as agreed? Who was that man? The questions were building up, weighing down over him. When had his life become so complicated?

The following day Sekafi accepted a job to guard a merchant for a few days. It was relatively well paid, and they needed it. Aaspaelwin hated to see her go off alone, but couldn't really protest. It would be too selfish, and it'd hurt them in the long run.

Sekafi grinned and ruffled his hair. 'Don't look so depressed, pretty. I'll be back in a jiffy.'

He snorted and flicked his hair back in place with a quick head motion. 'I'm not depressed. I'm worried.'

She giggled. 'No need. I'm the one who should worry. You're the one who gets into trouble and can't fight.' She gave him a meaningful glare. ' Don't get into trouble.'

He grinned. 'Of course not. Not without you.'

She huffed, shouldered a backpack, checked her weapons and headed out the door. She glanced back one last time. 'I know you get bored easily, and you wander. But can you please keep from investigating these things before I get back?'

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He bit his lower lip guiltily. He hadn't really planned on anything, but she wasn't wrong. 'Promise,' he said. 'Stay safe.'

She waved and left.

Aaspaelwin watched until she vanished around a corner down the street. Then he glanced back into the shop. Gaen had closed for a few days to prepare for the funeral and to grieve, and the place loomed empty. Outside, the sun-baked the city as usual, the air hazy with dust. He sighed and stepped out. Without maps to make or other work, he had no clue what to do and simply meandered around the city for hours.

In the late stages of summer, the ground cracked from the draught, people avoided the midday sun, wells were in constant use, people prayed daily for rain, and nights were spent on top of the flat roofs. He wished he could teleport to his mother's people in the mountains. Feel the cold wind sting his face again. But he couldn't. Instead, he was doomed to melt in the heat.

Wandering about, he noticed doors painted with white chalk, signalling a death in the household. The white of Death. He shuddered. Why was this happening to their fair city? And why couldn't the Heldest priests heal the sick? He recalled the stranger at the inn again. Had Malwi, Gaen's wife, been right? Was it some curse or magical disease? He recalled the first time he'd met the Council Mage. The man had spoken about some goddess of disease in the area with the monster long ago. Had they disturbed something over there? What if it was their fault? What if it was the mage's fault? He shook his head. He shouldn't jump to conclusions. Master Owadro had banished the monster after all. The goblins had confirmed it. A small smile found its way onto his face at the memory of Mirok. He still had the magic stone to contact them. Maybe he should ask if they'd been getting sick too.

That decided Aspen turned his steps to a place where he could sit undisturbed in the shade. Sitting down by a stonewall near a big thorny bush, he dug out the green stone he'd got from Kassem, the goblin shaman, from one of his pockets. He reflected that he probably shouldn't carry it with him at all times, but right now, it had been convenient. He rubbed the round stone on the sleeve of his tunic and stared into its murky depths. 'Mirok?' he said, keeping his tone low in case anyone passing by should overhear. His pale face stared back at him, reflected in the polished surface. He frowned. 'Mirok!'

Shadows moved in the green stone, brightened, and cleared. The goblin's triangular, narrow face appeared.

'Half-elf!'

He grinned at the uncourteous greeting. 'Goblin?' he replied, drawing a laugh from her. 'Can we speak?'

'We already speak.' She raised an eyebrow.

'True. Say, how are things over there? Are you all doing fine? Or...' he trailed off, not sure how to continue.

She studied him through the green swirls in the stone. 'Something happen?'

He nodded.

'The Many Eyes back?'

'No, but people are turning up sick and dying. It's a mystery. It is happening to your people too?'

'Sick? No. We fine. Very happy with Many Eyes gone.' She held something up for him to see. A shiny bracelet. 'See! We find much...' she sucked on a tooth, looking for words. 'Stuff,' she finished after a moment.

'Artifacts?' Aspen suggested.

'Yes.'

'No sickness at all?'

'No. We rich now. Got many... artfacts.' She grinned.

'That's great.'

Her face fell and her yellow eyes narrowed. 'You in danger, ugly? Need help?'

He almost choked in surprise. He supposed she joked. People didn't usually call him ugly. Small maybe. Then, another thought raised its voice; Goblins probably had other standards of beauty than humans and elves did. She probably meant it. How odd to be friends with a goblin, Aspen thought and smiled. 'We're fine, unforgettable beauty,' he said smoothly. She cackled out loud. 'We're fine, but the city isn't,' he continued. 'I thought maybe we awakened something when we disturbed the monster. But I guess I was wrong. It's something else going on, I suppose.'

'Maybe.' She waited for him to say anything else.

'Well, I should get going. Glad to hear you're doing well.'

'You too.' She smiled. It almost gave her a friendly look.

The stone darkened and Mirok's face vanished. Aspen sighed. At least they were safe. But that meant the problem was local, and probably unrelated to the monster. What did it mean though?'

He walked back in the lengthening shadows of late afternoon, worry gnawing at him each step of the way. He had to get to the bottom of this. And if there was anything he could do to help, he'd do it. He couldn't suppress the feeling he had caused the entire thing.

As he stepped into the shop, heading for his room, Gaen greeted him from the other room. 'I've been waiting for you.'

'Oh? What for?' Aspen asked in surprise.

Gaen came to stand in the doorway and brushed off his hands on his dirty apron before looking Aspen over. Cold trickled down Aspen's back as he watched Gaen's serious face.

'A soldier came by earlier and asked me to tell you to meet him behind the bathhouse one hour after sundown. Said he had some serious news.'

Aspen swallowed. That must have been Sir Hapow. Serious news? What could be more serious than Lady Hennaja's death? Maybe he had found out something else at the Council? Why did this have to happen now? He glanced at the door, wishing Sekafi would come bursting in through it. But she was on her way towards Kosint, a nearby village, with a trader. She'd be back in another two days. At least it seemed that Sir Hapow hadn't ditched them, after all. Something had happened.

Aspen nodded. 'Thank you.' Without another word, he walked up the stairs to his room, ate a sparse meal, and laid down to rest and think until it was time to head back out again.