After most everyone had finished eating, Roy Kunyjiri and a group of others quietly slipped away. They would be heading to the creek to examine the display. Despite their earlier reassurances that it was nothing to worry about, the elders weren’t stupid. They took her warnings seriously, even if they didn’t necessarily agree with them. Kylara watched impatiently as the group headed out.

She’d grown up on heroic tales of people fighting rogue magic and things from the Deserts. But those tales were always set in far off countries, places full of odds magics and strange creatures. Kookaburra Creek’s magic was of moths and butterflies, and its Desert had been quiet for centuries. It was hard to imagine anything bad happening.

She shifted in her seat restlessly. She wanted to speak to the magsman about what happened yesterday. Had he caused the cart to crash? How? And how had he known exactly what she needed him to say? Now, with most of the elders gone, it seemed like a good time for it.

“I’m heading out,” Kylara said as she rose from her seat. “I’ll see you back at the house.”

“Where are you going?” Yalmay asked, as Kylara knew she would.

She casually picked up her mostly empty bowl of soup. “To ask the magsman about this, for one. I want to know what’s in it.” She waited a second, wondering if the statement needed clarifying, but the pain in her right arm didn’t come. It wasn’t a hard rule, but lies of omission usually didn’t count as true lies. She was going to ask the magsman about the soup. It just wasn’t the main reason she wanted to talk to him.

“Can I come?” Yalmay asked eagerly.

Kylara froze. Oh no, she thought. Yalmay wants to question him about the University. She hadn’t told Yalmay about Malyun’s threat. About how she may not even get a chance to apply for the University, let alone attend. She couldn’t bring herself to break her sister’s dreams like that. Hopefully it would not come to that.

Stupid of her, really. She shouldn’t have mentioned the magsman at all if she didn’t want Yalmay to be interested. Kylara slowly turned back around to look at her sister. “To talk to the magsman?” she asked.

“Yeah. I barely got any time with him before. He just wanted to talk about his soup.” Yalmay made a face. “I didn’t even get to ask him if he was from Warrung, never mind the University.”

Kylara closed her eyes. How to deal with this? She wanted to have an actual conversation with the man. If Yalmay came, Kylara knew she would not get a word in edgewise.

She could picture the scene in her head–Yalmay would start polite, asking general questions about the University. Then she would get more curious and more confident as she went on. She would move onto more demanding personal questions, the ones that might make someone uncomfortable. Eventually, she would be asking about knowledge a former student would literally be forbidden to tell. She wouldn’t stop until she had either exhausted or alienated the man.

Kylara could not have that. She really wanted–no needed–to ask him questions. Both about the butterflies and her paralysis. She debated for a second before deciding that it was best to go without her sister.

Was that the right choice? The other option was to tell her. The problem with that was that it would require telling Yalmay everything, which Kylara didn’t want to do. At least, not yet. She couldn’t bear the look on her face when she would hear the news.

Kylara usually did not like withholding things from her sister, but she had already worried her enough for the day with the whole Billy situation. Yalmay did not handle with stress well.

Kylara made up her mind. Some things were better avoided, even if Yalmay had the right to know. “He only got here this morning,” Kylara said, “he’s probably tired. Maybe we shouldn’t overwhelm him with questions about the University yet.”

Because Yalmay would definitely overwhelm him. There wasn’t much question there.

Yalmay looked longingly to the centre tables. Kylara thought for a minute she was going to object, but she didn’t. “You’re right,” she said after a moment. “I think I’ll go see Joontah instead. I want to see if he managed to smooth things over with his mum and Billy. I’ll meet up with you later?”

Kylara nodded. “Good luck,” she said.

“You too. You’ll need it.”

Kylara’s eyes darted to her sister. Good luck? Why? She didn’t think Yalmay knew anything, but it was best make sure. “I’ll… need it?” she ventured. “Why?”

“You know, the soup?” Yalmay said. She flicked the bowl with her fingernail. “I know it means a lot to you. Very dire. Clearly more important than chatting with your dear sister, for example.”

Ah, the luck comment had been in jest. Kylara had thought so. “Right,” she said.

Yalmay’s smile fell. Quietly she said, “Well then, the truth. Glad we settled that.” She stood up, stacking the plates and brushing some crumbs from the table as she did so. Then, she grabbed the bowls and cups as well.

“Wait,” Kylara said.

Yalmay looked at her. “What?” she said.

Kylara stopped, uncertain. Why was Yalmay annoyed at her? Had she said something? She thought back to their conversation, then closed her eyes. Fuck. She had. She scolded herself inwardly. Stupid, stupid mistakes. Why did she keep making them?

“Er,” she said, slightly unsure if she wanted to continue, “if you see the twins, tell them I want a word with them later. They were being mean to Jack this morning.” They tended to listen to her more than Yalmay. Half-sister versus stepsister, maybe. That, or they knew Kylara had to carry out her threats.

“Sure. If I find them, I will.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you back at the house?” Kylara smiled a little, hoping to come across as forgivable.

“I’ll see you,” Yalmay said. Her expression was neutral. Kylara nodded as she walked away.

The centre of the square was loud. There were still a few people eating their fill here and there, but most had finished or put their meals aside to chat. Kylara moved between the tables and looked for a good place to stand. She wanted to be able to listen in for a minute or two before she approached the magsman.

She passed the appetiser tables as she walked. The magsman had spent most of dinner standing next to it, greeting everyone who came near and offering them soup. He wasn’t there now. Kylara supposed there was no one left to peddle it to anyway. The huge bowl was empty. It looked like it had been a hit.

The next table was lined with flavoured teas and juices. It was very near where the magsman was sitting. She picked up a bottle of waraburra tea. Then did the same with another–picking it up and fiddling with it and pretending she couldn't decide between them. She needed a plan, an outline of how a conversation could go.

As she mulled it over, she stole a glance at everyone in the square, looking for a telltale sign of anything unusual. The magsman was sitting in a chair at the end of a nearby table. The old man’s back was to her, but he was talking animatedly enough she could make up the general rhyme of the conversation even if she couldn’t hear more than bits and pieces.

Interestingly, the person he was talking to was Wawiriya. It shouldn’t have surprised Kylara–he had been chatty all evening and he had willingly put his plate next to hers. But it was still something of a shock. There was nothing wrong with Wawiriya herself, but she was a Wanderer. Most people, especially outsiders, didn’t like Wanderers. They were a cursed people.

Slowly, Kylara moved a little closer, to the next nearest table. Luckily, it was close enough to hear the two of them talk. Unfortunately, it was also the grog tray, which wasn’t exactly inconspicuous. She really had no excuse for loitering around the alcoholic drinks when she couldn’t drink any of them.

She picked up a bottle of apple berry wine.

Stupid promises about drinking.

She’d been nine when they had made her promise never to drink. She had barely known what she was saying. Had she known what alcohol was? Probably not. She couldn’t even remember who was to blame for making her say it. Most likely Malyun. She usually was behind the less reasonable ones.

Kylara sighed then grabbed a bottle. Just a little while longer and she would be free of those promises. Truely free for the first time in her life. What a thought.

Flipping over the bottle, the language on the label wasn’t one she knew how to read. Curralie, maybe? Aeyiya? Yalmay would know. Hell, she’d probably be able to read it. Kylara didn’t have the same gift for remembering characters and alphabets. Reading Koulan gave her enough trouble as it were.

She sighed and focused on listening.

It sounded like the magsman and Wawiriya were talking about something serious. She moved a bit closer and to her surprise, discovered that it was quiet enough she could make out almost all of the words of their conversation.

“It’s gorgeous,” the magsman was saying. He was slightly slumped on the stool next to Wawiriya. He was sitting casually, as if the two of them were old friends. “The green hills, the braided rivers, the contoured forest. I can see why you chose this place.” His voice had a nostalgic edge to it.

“Straight out of the booklet, isn’t it?” Wawiriya said. She was keeping a bit of distance between herself and the magsman. It was hard to read a Wanderer’s body language, but Kylara knew Wawiriya well enough to wonder if the magsman’s friendship was fully reciprocated. “I still remember when I first came here,” Wawiriya said, “you just smelt it… that scent of the trees, sort of sharp and minty but slightly sweet. The descriptions didn’t do it justice, do they?”

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

“No,” the magsman said absently. His mind seemed to be on other things. “I suppose they never do.”

“I wouldn’t leave even if I had a choice,” Wawiriya said. She moved closer to the magsman, who finally gave her his full attention. Kylara crept forward a few steps to hear.

“I have a family who loves me,” she said. Her voice turned hard. “I just want you to know that. I have a daughter, Julya. And she has two sons, Joontah and Billy. I have a good group of friends here, a job, people that respect me. I live comfortably. It’s a simple life, but one I enjoy.”

Kylara frowned. What was going on here? Was the magsman threatening Wawiriya? The two obviously had some sort of history.

The magsman sat up slowly. “Why are you telling me this?”

“I just want you to know. It’s been a good life.” Wawiriya grabbed the stranger’s arm and enunciated every syllable individually. “It’s been a good life,” she repeated.

“Right,” he said. “Right.” The old man pulled Wawiriya’s hand off his arm and chuckled bitterly. “Well,” he said, “that explains it. Been a good life, huh?” He let out a bark of laughter and stood up.

Kylara froze, ready to introduce herself if he turned her way, but instead he walked a few metres in the other direction to the nearest tree. “I’m glad you’re happy, Wawiriya,” he said. This time, Kylara didn’t detect any bitterness in his voice. “But I don’t need your assurances. Neither, I think, do you.” He grabbed a handful of leaves from the nearest branch and violently pulled them free. It made a surprisingly loud snapping sound.

“Perhaps,” Wawiriya said, “but perhaps not. Even old women need assurances sometimes. What are the leaves for?”

“Later.” He stuffed them in his pocket.

“Later?”

“I’ll crinkle them. Sharp, minty, and slightly sweet? It sounds nice. I’d like to smell it one day.”

Wawiriya seemed surprised by that. “You can’t?” she said. “I thought you of all people would be able to.”

“Smell? No, unfortunately. Not at the moment.” He didn’t seem too bothered by it. “I’ve got eyes in Saltsbury,” he said.

Eyes in Saltsbury? Was he investigating the robberies? And if so, why was he here and not one town over?

“Ah.” Wawiriya nodded as if that somehow answered the question.

“Although frankly,” he continued, “it’s a miracle this place doesn’t stink of moths instead. Usually the connection peaks through a bit more. I just came from somewhere that smelt of smoke, all the time. Bit of an unfortunate warren, really. Full of smoke demons. They didn’t even smell of the good kind of smoke. More like burnt hair. Nasty things.” He crunched his shoulders up as if making a face. “Glad this place isn’t like that. Full of burnt things.”

A country with a smoke summoning? Interesting. Kylara catalogued the new piece of information. None of the nearby countries had smoke magic. Saltsbury’s was salt-based, Guraberal’s was a small blue leaf that could be used for tea, and Pinrith had fog. The rest–Jireniong, Strathgoe, Cliffbridge, and Parara Ara–were all null countries with no local summonings or magic, and their warrens were blocked to travel.

She thought back to before. The magsman claimed to have come in from Saltsbury, hadn’t he?

Wawiriya looked like she had picked up on the oddity too. “I’m guessing you didn’t get here by the usual means then?” she said.

“No, of course not. I used the paths. What gave it away?”

“Half our country is ashes,” Wawiriya said. “We had a huge bushfire a few months back. Anyone who walked here from Saltsbury would’ve noticed. You didn’t, which means you didn’t walk here.”

Kylara frowned. Was Wawiriya implying the magsman had had used the songlines here? In Kookaburra Creek? That was impossible. There were no usable gates. Besides, their warren was not mapped.

“If it soothes you, you didn’t miss much,” Wawiriya stated. “You can’t see it from here, but the way to Saltsbury is nearly completely charred. We had a bushfire a few months back.”

Despite the subject, Wawiriya said it in the same neutral tone Kylara always appreciated from her. The fire had happened, and whose fault it was didn’t need to be stated every single time it came up in conversation like certain other people did.

Kylara blinked.

Okay, maybe she was a bit bitter. She cleared the intrusive thoughts from her head. Focus.

“Ah,” the magsman hung his head. “A fire… I suppose that’s the tragedy Pemulabee referred to during the ceremony. I should’ve realised. Is that why you have a warder here? To build some sort of protection?”

“No,” Wawiriya said, “the warder lives here. There’s been a warder in Kookaburra Creek even longer than I have.”

Kylara shut her eyes as she prepared to interrupt. She hadn’t been planning to eavesdrop for this long. She had just needed to find for a good path forward, was all. The right opportunity to approach. This wasn’t the best time, but it was probably better to step forward before the conversation got too personal or went in a direction that she wanted to avoid.

She opened her mouth and started to step forward but stopped. Maybe she was nervous, but her feet felt glued to the spot. She wanted–no, needed–to know what Wawiriya was going to say about her. Especially after the close call yesterday. She did not want to think about how she had almost lost her warding for a stupid slight on Malyun.

Multhamurra spoke. “Bit unusual, for a town this size to have a warder. I know kings in some parts of the world who would kill for such a privilege.”

Wawiriya laughed. “Some of the people here aren’t much better. The poor girl’s been through a lot lately.”

Poor girl?

Okay, now or never. Kylara gulped and stepped forward. She cleared her throat loudly as she approached. Best to let them know she was coming. She didn’t want to startle them.

As it turned out, she didn’t need to. Billy did it all for her.

From nowhere, the six year old ran and dove under the table.

He would’ve knocked it over if not for the magsman’s quick reaction time.

Billy then rolled behind his grandmother, who had been sitting at the far end of the table. The bench tipped over and Wawiriya nearly fell on top of him, knocking them both onto the floor.

Kylara ran to her. “Are you okay?” she asked Wawiriya.

“I’m fine,” Wawiriya said, her eyes still closed.

“You sure?” Kylara asked. “Here, give me your hand.” She held it out. Wawiriya gripped it tight–far tighter than you might expect from a frail woman who was already trembling from the fall.

Kylara pulled her into a sitting position. Then she brushed off some of the old woman’s skirt. It was covered in dust.

Wawiriya caught her hand. “Thank you, but I’ve got it.” Kylara locked eyes with her, then nodded and silently stepped away.

Billy was gone. Not exactly a surprise there.

“Who was that?” the magsman asked.

“My youngest grandson,” Wawiriya said. She cringed as she helped herself back into the chair. Kylara wondered if she had hurt her back, but stopped herself before she moved to help. Wawiriya had been getting more and more frail lately. It worried her. “It seems then even when he knocks an old woman down, he’s got better things to do than help his grandmother.”

“Ah,” the magsman nodded sympathetically. “You did mention you had grandsons. That was Billy, I’m assuming?” His voice was casual and light, and Kylara’s eyes immediately darted towards him in distrust. He’d just learnt about Wawiriya’s grandson a minute ago, hadn’t he?

Kylara still wasn’t sure what their relationship was, but her initial thought–that the magsman was threatening Wawiriya–still was on her mind. And now the magsman was talking about them with the same tone you would use for small talk at the market? It didn’t match, and that unnerved Kylara. The switch was too dramatic.

She glanced at Wawiriya to see what she thought of it, but the old woman didn’t seem concerned. She was looking to the distance, presumably to find her grandson.

“That was Billy alright,” Wawiriya said.

“I see.” The magsman’s gaze moved to Kylara. “Thanks for helping. I didn’t quite get there in time,” he said. His eyes briefly flickered to her right arm and unknowable expression flashed across his face, too quick for Kylara to read. She quietly took note of the hesitation, filing it away for later.

“I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced,” she said, holding a hand out. This time, the magsman didn’t waver to take her arm. “Kylara Kunyjiri.”

“Call me Multhamurra,” he said. His handshake was stiff and precise, his hand oddly cool.

“Have you met?” Wawiriya asked.

“Briefly. She was at the Nest.” He turned to Kylara.

Interesting. He didn’t mention the field. Wawiriya had been there too, had she not seen?

“You were with the other kids,” he continued, “listening to one of my stories.”

Wait. Other kids? Kylara frowned. She was eighteen and looked like an adult. In fact, most people assumed twenty-two year old Yalmay was the younger sibling of the two. Grouping a twenty-two year old in with the twelve and under crowd… was it safe to assume the magsman had never had kids? Or had he simply forgotten what they were like? Most people her age would get insulted over being grouped in with children. Or perhaps she was reading too far into it.

…she was probably reading too far into it.

Now, how to get information?

Her mind came up blank.

Gods, maybe she should have brought Yalmay and just let her loose. Assaulting someone with irrelevant questions was one way to learn about them.

Kylara sighed. Well, that wasn’t her style anyway. She preferred the subtle. The magsman had looked at her arm, which meant he knew she was the warder. That could be used to her advantage.

“I enjoyed your story a lot,” she said. A simple complement like ‘I enjoyed it’ was highly valued from a person forced to only tell the truth. She hoped it would get her in his good graces.

“Really?” he said. “Pity. I was going to ask for tips. Considering you and your friend managed to talk through the entire first half of it and you both left before I even chose the second one, I had thought I had bored you. I was quite looking forward to ways I could improve, but if you enjoyed it…” He shrugged. “Like I said–what a pity.”

Kylara flinched. Well, so much for getting in his good graces. From what she had seen, she had been expecting the man to be friendly.

Wawiriya voiced the same. “Don’t be rude,” she said to him.

“I’m not,” he said. “I’m sure she had a very good reason to leave. Did you?”

“I did,” Kylara nodded. She cleared her throat and stood a bit straighter, switching to a more formal register. It was a voice she really only used when acting in an official capacity, as a councillor or the town warder. “You’ve met Billy,” she said, gesturing vaguely. “He was acting up this morning. He’d run away, and me and my sister left to look for him. I’m sorry, I didn’t intend any rudeness on my part.”

“Ah, told you she had a good reason,” the magsman said. He pointed at her and looked smugly at Wawiriya. “Although,” he turned back to Kylara, “perhaps you’ll pay attention the second time around?” He winked over her shoulder, as if watching someone else.

“The second time around?” she asked, confused. She followed his gaze.

A woman was running over to them, slightly out of breath. It took a second for Kylara to register who it was. She had tied her hair up.

Julya Biraga was a small woman in her early forties with long curly hair and an even longer neck. She was also Billy, Janeyca, and Joontah’s mother as well as Wawiriya’s daughter.

“Mum,” she panted, hand resting on her hip as if trying to massage a cramp, “have you seen Billy? I somehow lost him. He ran under a table around here and I thought he might’ve come to see you…”

“He did. A little too enthusiastically, if I may say so.”

“Oh,” Julya hesitated and looked her mother over. “Your arm! It’s scrapped. Did he hurt you?”

“I’m fine.”

“I’m so sorry,” Julya said. She walked over and held Wawiriya’s arm, examining it. “I don’t know what happened. They were being so nicely behaved. Then I turn away for one second and the Kunyjiri twins are egging him on to start a fight. They’re bad influences on him.”

Kylara frowned. Somehow, she doubted that was the full story. Toba and Tabara were twelve, old enough to regard six year old Billy as no more than a nuisance. Oh they were bullies alright, but they mostly directed it at each other or Jack. Starting a fight with Billy just wasn’t their style. If anything it would hurt their twelve-year-old pride.

“Did you see what direction he went?” Julya asked.

“I didn’t,” Wawiriya said.

“I did.” The magsman stepped forward. “Julya, is it?”

“That’s me. Sorry, who are–”

“He went that way.” The magsman pointed in the direction of the Biraga house. “He didn’t go inside, or if he did he ran to the backyard first. Perhaps there’s a door there, or a place to hide?”

“My garden,” Julya hissed.

“Or that.”

“I have to go.” She hesitated. For a second, Kylara thought she was going to ask for help, but seemed to think better of it. Kylara doubted she would trust her or the magsman in her search, and Wawiriya looked in no position to move. “Thank you,” she said.

“No worries,” Multhamurra said, smiling. “Good luck finding him.”