I stumbled back to The Shadow's Respite, exhausted, and eyes burning from lack of sleep. Despite my fatigue, I knew I had work to do. There was a feast to put together, and I would treat the orcs and anyone else who stopped by to the best stew of their lives—a huge-ass pot of chili.

Before I went inside, Seraphina, who had accompanied me back to my tavern, stopped and rounded on me. I was struck once again by her ethereal beauty. Her violet eyes stared into mine.

It had been a while since I had found myself at a total loss for words. “Um. Varix. We need to talk about something. Not right now, but very shortly. I know you have much to do today, and I won’t take any more of your time.”

"There is something peculiar about this one," Ophelia said as she stood to the side, hand under her chin like she was appraising a vase.

“Okay. Maybe we could meet for coffee in the next few days? Do you like coffee?”

“I love coffee. I have a strainer, you know. I had it made. It helps.”

“A strainer,” I said wistfully. "I've been trying to get Milo to help me strain out the coffee grounds. He's been on the lookout for just such a tool."

"Milo has a warm heart."

"And a warm personality," I said diplomatically.

She laughed. We stood a few feet apart and didn’t speak. Her lips parted as if to say something, and I had the craziest desire to lean over and kiss her, but I knew I couldn’t. Ever. There was no way I would ever be able to be with someone, thanks to Morthisal’s evil ass.

My eyes traveled up the length of the staff, and I wondered. No. I couldn’t even risk mentioning that I’d like her to try and make this my permanent form, if that was even possible.

“I need to go and get to work,” I said abruptly and turned away.

“Okay, but don’t forget we have a coffee date sometime soon.”

What did she just say?

Before I could ask where she’d heard that term, she spun on her heel and walked back toward her shop.

“You look as if you’ve seen a ghost,” Ophelia teased.

I blew out a breath. For a moment, I’d forgotten about the three stooges. Well, Zyn wasn’t here, so make it two.

"That’s a fine-looking woman, Varix. I heartily approve. Though, good luck explaining your habit of talking to thin air," Garin quipped.

“Gee, thanks,” I murmured. “Because explaining a spectral entourage is always on my first-date to-do list.”

To my great surprise, a steady stream of townspeople arrived at the tavern, arms laden with vegetables, meat, and supplies. I couldn’t believe so many people were pitching in. I spent a few minutes moving around, directing them where to put things, and personally thanked each one.

A few minutes later, I was back in the kitchen, firing up the stove, and getting to work chopping vegetables. I still had the beef ribs in the cooler, and they were going to be the start.

Caden, Mira, and Doan stayed with me and followed my directions. Doan proved to be a surprisingly good sous chef. He sliced and diced a pile of carrots, onions, and celery. Once the fire was good and hot, I put my largest pot over the burner to heat up, then broke out the pile of rib bones and layered them out. A salt and pepper coating was applied, and they were ready for the pan.

I added a generous drizzle of oil and some bacon grease I'd picked up from Shellen and heated it, and soon, the grease was shimmering. I tossed the bones in and was greeted by a loud sizzle. After a minute, Doan looked up and said, “Gods, but that smells good.”

I pushed the bones around to sear, then added the vegetables and let them cook for a few minutes. Next, I added a handful of garlic cloves, but not too early. I didn't want them to cook too fast and become bitter. I’d collected a number of spices in town, and I added a generous helping.

Soon, the entire kitchen smelled good enough to make my stomach grumble.

“What is that?” Caden asked me.

“I’m making a beef broth. This is called a mirepoix.”

Caden scratched his head.

“I could eat that. Just dish me up a bowl,” Mira said.

“It will be better once it’s cooked for a few hours.”

I shoved more veggies in as fast as they could cut until I had several inches in the bottom of the large pot. It all sizzled as I stirred the mixture to ensure everything got a nice sear.

Next, I added a bucket full of water and opened the stove door to allow more oxygen. I needed this to come to a boil and fast.

“You’re making soup?“

“Sort of. This is going to take a while. We should see how Shellen is getting on with the ground meat. Do you want to help her, Caden?”

His eyes lit up. “Yeah. I’ll go right now.”

"Thanks. I'm sure she would appreciate the help."

"Back soon, my friends." He bid us farewell.

After he had left for the butcher shop, Mira gave me a questioning look and asked, “Are they…?”

“They’re something,” I replied with a grin.

“Good for Caden. He deserves to be happy. Shellen is a hard worker, and quite attractive," Mira said.

Doan nodded and said, “Aye. They’re a good match.”

"Politician, chef, and matchmaker. What can't you do, Varix?"

"Fight. I was practically useless again last night."

"I have to agree with you on that one," Ophelia snarked.

"Ignore her. I witnessed your bravery firsthand. You're as courageous as any warrior I've fought beside," Garin reassured me.

"Nonsense, lad. You did more for the town than any of us had thought to do. If you had not convinced the orcs to help, I'm afraid this would have been a much worse day. We would still be putting out fires and preparing to bury the dead."

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

"And preparing for the next night's invasion."

"Sorry to bitch. I'm just tired."

"Bitch?" Mira asked.

"Grousing."

"Ohhh."

Doan laughed, then asked, "What's next?"

"Tomatoes. We need a lot of tomatoes. We don't have tomato paste, so I'll have to figure out a way around that."

I considered this issue. At home, I would have pulled a bottle of tomato paste out of the drawer to help act as a thickener, and a couple of cans of tomatoes as well.

Staring at the pot didn’t make the water boil any faster. A watched pot, and all that.

The tavern’s front door opened, and Milo walked in, of all people, and he had a mug in one hand.

“Oh, hey, Mr. Vel’Naris. I heard what you did for the town. I brought you another mug of coffee. I figured you’d need it.”

“Milo, my friend. You’re the real hero here,” I said, taking the drink.

Looking around the kitchen, I spotted the cup I’d borrowed from Milo earlier and returned it to him. “Thanks. I’ll close out your collateral.” He looked at the fresh cup in my hand. “Never mind. It's fine. I'll make a note that you have one of the mugs out. Maybe you can bring your own next time."

I couldn't help but smile at Milo. "Never change," I told him.

"No plans to, Mr. Vel'Naris."

“Thanks, buddy. This is just what the doctor ordered.” I tipped the cup and took a sip. Grainy and strong. It was good, but it would be perfect if I could get a hold of the same kind of strainer Seraphina had spoken of.

Seraphina. What was I to make of her? Funny, beautiful, intelligent, and could do magic. She checked a lot of boxes. Too bad I could never reveal my actual form to her. Ever. That meant there was simply no chance with her, or anyone else, for that matter.

“Mr. Vel’Naris?” Milo prompted me.

I shook my head to clear the fog. Had she put some kind of spell on me? No, I was just tired AF.

“Guys, I hate to be that guy, but could you keep an eye on things while I take a short nap? I spent half the night running in the woods. I just need a few minutes to close my eyes."

“I can stay and help. No one’s coming to the shop today. The whole town is busy getting stuff for you. I can help organize. Tell me what you need and where to put it?“

“Aye. Take an hour. Just give us a prep list,” Doan said.

"The main thing is tomatoes. We need at least enough to fill a pot that size," I said, pointing at the simmering pot on the stove. Gods, as Doan would have said, that did smell good.

"Oh, and diced carrots. We need to fill this stew out, which will work as a natural sweetener. The tomatoes will be too acidic without them. You guys are lifesavers,” I said and yawned.

The pot had come to a boil. I placed a cover over it and left the edge open so it could let out steam, and then I closed the door to cut back the heat.

I explained to the others what I meant by a simmer and asked them to keep an eye on the pot.

“How will we know when it’s done?” Doan asked.

“No worries about that. Just keep it at this gentle simmer. It can cook all day, and all that will happen is that the flavors will be enhanced.”

"Can I be in charge of that?" Milo asked.

I bit my lip and considered, then said, "Repeat the instructions back to me."

Milo repeated back my directions word for word. Mira winked, and I knew they'd keep an eye on him if needed.

"Milo, you're my official broth man. I hope you're up to the challenge."

"I won't let you down."

"Okay, Milo."

“Why is this stew called chili if it has chilis and meat? And it starts with a soupy blend of vegetables?” Mira asked me.

“I probably have brain damage from my old head injury. It seemed like a good name for the dish.”

“Right,” Mira said, grinned, and clapped my upper arm. “Rest well, work friend.”

I laughed and went upstairs, unlocked the last room in the back, and put the still steaming mug of coffee on the dresser.

"I've got plans for you," I told the mug.

I collapsed on the bed. My ghost entourage, thankfully, didn't join me.

All I needed was a catnap—just fifteen minutes, and I would feel refreshed and–

----------------------------------------

Someone banged on the door. I ignored it. They did it again. "Go away!"

"Mr. Vel'Naris. We have company," the voice insisted.

I threw my arm over my sleep-deprived, itching, and burning eyes and wished I could go back to sleep for about a full twenty-four hours. Why was I so tired? Who was Vel'Naris? I'd just been dreaming about sitting in front of a computer and feeling completely confused. Like a mouse and keyboard? What were those? What was a screen?

The dream had been so vivid. But it felt like I was wearing someone else's skin.

The dream memories faded as quickly as they had come, and I shot out of bed. "Everspring. Orcs. Chili!" I exclaimed.

"Those are the highlights. And we have company, like I said," the voice at the door said.

"Sorry, Milo," I yelled back, finally placing the voice. "I'll be right down."

My eyes cast around the room and stopped on the coffee mug. I staggered out of bed and paused as a huge yawn threatened to break my jaw.

"Coffee. My hero," I muttered as I picked up the mug.

Hmm. It was cold. How long had I been asleep? At least most of the grounds had settled on the bottom. Temperature aside, this was what I needed. I sucked the cold coffee down and took the cup downstairs so I could return it to Milo.

I glanced outside and noticed the sun's position had changed. I rushed out the door and down the stairs, hoping to shake the grogginess off. I had overslept! There was so much to do!

The moment I stepped into the tavern's main room, I was hit by a wave of activity and noise. My friends had been busy.

Through the kitchen doorway, I spotted Doan and Mira talking to each other. Behind them was a mountain of chopped vegetables. Milo had returned to stand vigilantly by the stove, his eyes never leaving the simmering pot of broth.

"You guys..." I started, my voice thick. "You didn't have to do all this."

Mira looked up, with a tired smile. "We wanted to, Varix. You've done so much for us, and the town. You needed some rest. How else are you going to cook all afternoon?"

"I'm not the only person who didn't sleep last night. It's not fair to expect you to do my work."

"Don't worry about it." Doan waved me off. "I once stayed up for three nights while we crept up on an ogre patrol—big bastards. The only way we could think of taking them down was with a ballista. We had to build it quietly in the dark, then drag it up a hill, and hope to score a hit."

"Did you?" Mira asked him.

"I'm here, aren't I?"

"Good point," she replied.

"You know, I also have gone three days without sleep. It was during a siege," Garin started.

Ophelia groaned. "Here we go again with the war stories."

"I went longer," Zyn said quietly. "Assassins don't sleep."

"No wonder you're always so grumpy," Ophelia teased. "They apparently don't talk much, either, unless it's about being an assassin."

Zyn shrugged.

Ragna popped her head in through the back door. "Varix! Come out here."

"Hi, Ragna. What are you doing here?"

She didn't answer, only waving me toward her as she stepped back outside.

Curiosity piqued, I followed her, but not before turning to Mira and Doan. "You two, get some rest. You look as tired as I feel."

"Good advice. My wrist has a cramp. I'm used to swinging a sword in short bursts, not this." Mira pointed at the vegetables.

"This is too much. Thank you both!" I told them.

"It's our pleasure," Doan replied.

I followed Ragna out to the back and stopped in my tracks.

The scene that greeted me outside left me speechless. A massive cauldron sat atop a carefully arranged circle of stones and blocks. Urzan and several of his orcs were fussing over it, adjusting its position with surprising care. Another orc was stoking a fire beneath the pot, while a pile of firewood stood ready nearby.

"I... what?" I stammered, looking from the orcs to Ragna and back again.

Urzan straightened up. "Orc help! Orc ready for heat!"

I noticed Urzan's eyes darting to Ragna, who was overseeing the work with a critical eye. It seemed even the orcs weren't immune to her commanding presence.

A cart came around the corner and headed toward the tavern. Caden was pushing while Shellen walked alongside him, chatting away. He wore a happy smile.

"Hey, Varix," Caden paused to stop the cart and wave. "We should have more than enough ground meat here."

I grinned at Caden.

"Ah, yeah." I clapped my hands together. "It's time to cook!"