I shook my head, trying to dispel the fear that Thalindra might be stalking me, searching for Morthisal's staff, me, or even the pendant.

Maybe it wasn't her, and I was being paranoid. Maybe it was just a rando wandering around town looking for a free drink or a brothel.

I knew I should have taken better steps to get rid of the staff. I should ask around to find out if there was a pit I could drop it in. The thought once again of burning the damn thing out in the woods again sprang to mind. I considered the possibility of having to confess to Seraphina the truth about me sooner rather than later.

Lost in these troubling thoughts, I was suddenly surprised at the sight of Old Man Guslan, leading a horse that pulled an empty cart. The wooden wagon looked sturdy, with high sides and a canvas cover. The wheels were iron-rimmed. The cart showed signs of wear and tear, but it appeared to be well-maintained.

"Guslan!" I called out, genuinely happy to see the older man. "So you're the one with the extra wagon?"

He nodded, his weathered face crinkling into a smile. "Heard you needed one. You was willing to rent it out from me, but I'll tell you the truth, lad. I can't use it no more. If you'd set aside a meal for me from time to time, you can use this for as long as you like."

I gulped, touched by his kind offer. "You're welcome to a meal anytime you wish, Guslan. Thank you so much, my friend."

"It's nothing. This cart has seen a lot of miles. But my days on the road are far behind me. Better being put to good use instead of taking up room in my barn.”

He worked the horse around the street until the wagon could be backed into the open area. A low fence ran along the road, and I suspect that's where customers used to secure their horses. The fence had also fallen into disrepair. The war had pulled so many people away from this area that the tavern probably hadn't had visitors in at least five or six years.

He unhitched the horse, and patted the mare's side warmly. She whinnied, and Guslan pulled an apple from his pocket and offered it to her. The mare took it eagerly.

Old Man Guslan spoke for some time about Everspring and his hopes for the town, which involved a return to trade and frequent travelers bringing their tales of distant lands.

"Stories, in truth, are the true currency of our realm. You keep that in mind and keep the fires burning in The Shadow’s Respite. It'll help rebuild this community and bring in fresh blood. I'm counting on you, Mr. Vel'Naris."

"I appreciate the confidence. I will do my best to live up to expectations—not just yours, but mine as well," I told him. We shook hands warmly.

"That's the best anyone can hope for."

Guslan clapped my shoulder and then departed, leading his old horse back up the street and leaving me with the cart and a sense of community I hadn't realized I was cultivating.

As I headed for the tavern door, another visitor rolled up to The Shadow’s Respite with a hand-drawn cart and a number of clinking bottles in boxes. I’d almost forgotten that I’d had an appointment with an alcohol vendor.

She was probably in her mid-thirties with brown eyes and dark hair tied back, but a few strands framed her face. The woman wore a mix of durable fabrics, a leather apron, scuffed work boots, and a light brown shirt. She nodded and smiled at me. “Good ‘morrow. I’m Fie Vinter. I understand you’re looking to reopen the place.” She inclined her head at The Shadow’s Respite.

I couldn't help but chuckle at her name. Fie Vinter, a purveyor of spirits - it seemed almost too perfect.

"Something amusing, sir?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Varix Vel’Naris. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I replied. I shook my head, still smiling. "Just appreciating the aptness of your name, Ms. Vinter. It's a pleasure to meet you."

She grinned, clearly used to this reaction. "Ah, yes. I've heard that one before.” She looked The Shadow’s Respite up and down. “Lovely place. Used to come here with my pa. Old Heron was a kind man, but he had a temper. I once saw him chase a man out for cursing at Heron's wife. What was her name…?”

“Henna. She left me a cat.”

Fie nodded. “That’s a fine pet to have in a tavern.”

“Agreed. I haven’t picked out a name yet. In fact, I don’t even know where the little kitty is right now.”

“Probably exploring and finding the best places to sleep during the day. Boy or a girl?"

“I bet you’re right. I haven’t had a cat since I was a kid. I don’t even know if it's a girl cat.”

“Sorry I can’t help with your feline problems,” she said brusquely. “Now, shall we get down to business?"

“Sure. Sorry. I’m just rambling today.”

Fie gestured to the boxes in her cart. "It's best if we take these inside. You can sample the drinks and tell me what you'd like to buy, how much you'd like to buy, and how often you'd like to buy. I make some of these. Others are procured. Some are easy to get, some are harder. If I have an idea regarding your needs, I'll do my best to get or keep it in stock."

I nodded, reaching for one of the boxes. "Sounds perfect. Let's go inside."

She carried the box through the door and deposited it on the counter.

Once inside, Fie began unpacking the bottles onto the bar. "Now, these are full-size bottles, but they only contain small samples. Enough for you to get a good taste of each."

I counted about a dozen different drinks. The variety was impressive, and I found myself eager to try them. But only a sip. There was enough alcohol here to get me plastered for the rest of the day.

Fie detailed the contents of each bottle: "First up, we have Moonbeam Mead. It's a honey wine infused with starflower essence, which gives it a slight shimmer and a subtle floral aftertaste."

She moved on to the next bottle. "This is Iron Forge Whiskey. Aged in barrels made from fire-resistant wood. It's got a smoky flavor with a hint of cinnamon."

As she continued, I found myself taken with the names. There was Elven Twilight, a deep purple wine that supposedly changed flavor depending on the phase of the moon. Pixie's Giggle promised to leave drinkers feeling light and bubbly. I pulled the bottle out, popped the cork, and sniffed. It was close to gin, but had more of a citrus flavor. I’d put it somewhere between Hendrick's and lemon-infused vodka.

One bottle caught my eye—a vibrant blue liquid that seemed to swirl on its own. "And what's this one?" I asked, pointing to it.

Fie's eyes lit up. "Ah, that's Ocean's Heart Rum. It's made using water from the deepest part of the Sapphire Sea. They say you can taste the adventure of the high seas in every sip. I don't know about all that, but it's smooth and strong."

“Wait. Seawater?”

“It’s first distilled.”

“Ah.”

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She continued through the list: Dragonbreath Brandy, a fiery spirit that lived up to its name, Fae Dew, distilled from rare mushrooms, and Thundercloud Stout, a dark beer that crackled with tiny sparks when poured.

There was Siren's Song, a pearlescent green liquid said to inspire creativity. Mage's Potion Liqueur, a sweet concoction that allegedly changed color based on the drinker's mood; and Troll's Tonic, a surprisingly refined drink made from mountain herbs that looked suspiciously like bourbon.

As Fie finished her explanations, she turned to me with a smile. "Take your time, sample them all. Put together what you'd like, and we can meet in a few days to finalize the order."

I nodded, already coming up with ideas for interesting drinks that would fit into The Shadow's Respite's theme. "Thank you, Fie. This is quite the selection."

"Take this," she said and handed me a sheet of paper with the names and prices hand-printed, as well as her discount rate for buying in bulk. While some of the drinks sounded good, they'd have to wait until I wasn't close to being broke. Siren's Song, for one, was one gold per bottle!

"Enjoy, Mr. Vel'Naris. I look forward to hearing from you soon."

"Yes. I'll be in touch. Thanks for bringing all the samples out. I'll put them to good use.”

"I'm sure you will. Careful with that Moonbeam Mead. It's subtle. You'll barely notice until you're seeing double."

I laughed. "I'll keep that in mind."

If I were going to go through all of these, I'd need to ask Caden for the name of the herbalist store that sold restoratives.

As Fie left, I returned to the array of bottles before me. It was time to start tasting, to figure out which of these fascinating drinks would grace the shelves of my tavern.

A thought struck me as I reached for the first bottle, the Moonbeam Mead. I should probably find someone to help me taste these. After all, I didn't want to end up drunk before midday. I chuckled, imagining trying to explain to Fie that I couldn't remember which drinks I liked because I'd sampled them all alone.

Still, a nip couldn't hurt, and it would help me understand what kind of drinks to mix up. I'd already purchased a few bottled fruit juices in preparation for testing mixed drinks.

Taking a bottle of freshly squeezed orange juice out of the fridge, I poured a little into a glass, added a small amount of Pixie's Giggle, and swirled it around. I took a sip and grinned. It was close to a screwdriver but had a hint of pine, and something sweet, like cranberries.

It was still missing something.

With a bit of liquid encouragement in me, I reached into my pocket and slid the ring onto my finger. Take that, Bilbo Baggins.

In a blink, my three ghostly companions appeared on the barstools.

Lady Ophelia crossed her arms and glared at me. Garin eyed my drink. He looked like he wanted to lick the glass; I couldn't blame him. Being dead must be a drag as you watch others go about their lives, eating and drinking whatever and whenever they pleased. Zyn gave me a single nod before returning to his meditation.

"My apologies," I said, trying to sound sincere. "I couldn't concentrate on all the voices and needed a little quiet."

"It looked to me like you smugly took off the ring."

I shrugged at her. "Don't take everything so personally, Ophelia. Oh, and while I have you here. Why are you suddenly tied to the ring? I saw you before I the cursed thing got stuck on my finger."

"It's a cursed ring, darling. Did you expect it only to work when you wanted it to?"

"What?"

"You are Morthisal under that wretched body. He may have cursed the ring, or maybe it was cursed by someone close to him as a jest. You had the curse removed. I suppose you'll never know for sure."

"Hmm," I grumbled. "At least removing it gives me a little peace and quiet."

Garin nodded, his ghostly armor clanking silently as he moved. "Understandable, lad. Sometimes a man needs solitude, especially when certain company leaves much to be desired." He pointedly looked at Lady Ophelia, who rolled her eyes dramatically.

"Oh, please," Ophelia scoffed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "The righteous paladin Garin Thorneblade seems to have plenty of desire. Just not for solitude, I'd wager."

To my surprise, Garin let out a booming laugh that seemed to shake the very foundations of the tavern, even though I was the only one who could hear it.

"I've said it before, and I'll say it again. Get a room, you two."

I took another sip of my drink. The flavors swirled around my mouth. "This is really good. It's a mix of Pixie's Giggle and orange juice."

"We saw you make it," Ophelia said dryly.

"Right. I'm a little distracted." I lowered my voice. "I think Thalindra, the sorceress who was there the day I... well, the day I assumed you-know-who's identity... she might be in Everspring, looking for me."

"Describe her," Zyn said.

"Kinda like her." I pointed at Ophelia. "But alive, and with even more evil than Ophelia, if you can imagine.

"I beg your pardon!" Ophelia demanded.

"She's been stalking me around town. I've observed her dressed in black and wandering several times, and she keeps finding me."

"You saw her recently?" Zyn's asked in his clipped speech.

"Outside and down the road that way." I pointed. "They were there just a few minutes ago."

Zyn stood and quickly moved toward the entrance without a word. He stepped through the door and disappeared.

"Thanks, Zyn," I called after him, even though he probably couldn't hear me.

Zyn hadn't been gone for long when I decided to make the most of the moment. Figuring he'd be away, I opened the cooler and grabbed my ice pick. I broke off some small chunks from the ice blocks inside with a few quick strikes.

I dropped these into my drink. Digging through my supplies, I found a plump strawberry and plopped it into the bottom of the glass. I glanced around the room, searching for something to muddle the fruit. My eyes landed on a wooden spoon, and I snatched it up.

Using the handle, I gently crushed the strawberry between the ice and the glass, releasing its sweet essence into the drink. I took a sip and couldn't help but grin. "Damn, that's tasty," I muttered to myself, laughed a little, and then proclaimed. "I hereby name thee Orange Blush.”

I’d only had a few sips, but I felt—odd. Not ‘drunk’ odd, just a little silly.

“It’s the drink, dear.”

I looked at Ophelia. “What?”

“It’s called Pixie’s giggle for a reason.”

I nodded and couldn’t get the grin off my face. “This is some good shit.”

Garin shook his head gently. “Lad. How will ya sample all your drinks if you can’t make it through the first one?”

“You’re a smart guy, Garin. I don’t care what this one says about you when you’re not around.”

“Beg your pardon.” Gavin’s eyes fixed on Ophelia.

“I’m just kidding, pal.” I laughed.

This was a hell of a drink. I checked the price list and found Pixie’s Giggle wasn’t very expensive, so I put a checkmark next to it.

As I savored my creation, Zyn materialized through the wall much quicker than I'd anticipated.

"Did you give up already?" I asked, trying to mask my surprise at his quick return.

Zyn's face was as impassive as ever, but an urgency in his voice made me catch my breath. "No," he said flatly. "The person is already at the door."

My eyes widened in alarm.

“Shit!”

I rushed toward the entrance to throw the bolt so the person couldn’t enter, but it was too late.

The door creaked open and a figure in black appeared.

I froze, ready to bolt to my room and grab Morthisal’s staff. With no idea how to use it, I prayed it would come to me in my desperation. That’s always how it worked in movies: The hero discovers their secret power when they most need it.

Tensing as the person stepped inside, I clenched my fists, ready to fight if I had to.

“Hello. Are you open?” A woman demurely pushed her black hood back until it fell down her back.

I gasped, but not because this wasn’t Thalindra, so not the dark elf sorceress I had feared. She was something else entirely.

Her face was round and warmly glowed. Her eyes resembled glowing embers. Her skin tone was rich, fine ash. Glowing lines snaked across her face, creating delicate cracks. Her hair sprang forth, a rich cascade of vibrant reds and oranges.

“It’s an Emberfae,” Lady Ophelia said almost reverently.

“An Emberfae?” I said.

“Yes, I am. I appreciate you recognizing my kind and for not being fearful. My look isn't always well-received. My name is Nyria Searcrest, and I’m a relic hunter.”

“A relic hunter.” My mouth dropped open.

“This is troubling,” Ophelia said. “She would be drawn to the instruments you took from Morthisal’s fortress."

“Aye. I believe there is a powerful artifact in the vicinity.”