Fin was happy to have more room in his carriage. None of the other guards wanted to travel with him, so they opted to squeeze into the other ones. All but for poor Pimly, who drew the short grass and had to share Fin’s carriage. He sat wide-eyed and rigid. Sitting next to an uncomfortable dwarf was vastly better than sitting uncomfortably next to three of them.

As time passed, Fin realized that every time Marriam shouted at him through her own window and he replied in the negative, it probably meant the scribes were crossing off another location from the list. He had lost count of how many gold-desolate areas he had demarcated, even though not all had been completely barren. He had seen multiple places with at least some copper, silver, or gold, but it was never enough to stop for. Especially when they could be crossing more places off the list. Then, the unexpected happened. Marriam called something out of the window, but it wasn’t directed toward Him. Pimely, blatantly ignoring him, perked up at the words and scrambled to get out of the carriage. They were stopped entirely, and the silence of the wheels allowed him to hear boots shuffling in the dirt, the clinking of metal, and the words, “To battle!”

Fin instinctively unstowed his dull sword and got out of the carriage to help if he could. When he saw what was attacking, he froze. It wasn’t from cowardice; it was from a mixture of shock, uncertainty, inexperience, or a dozen other reasons, including wisdom. The dwarves stood in formation with spears pointed upward toward the ugliest group of winged creatures he had ever seen. They were maybe twice the size of a vulture but looked like a combination of a mosquito and a bat. Tufts of grey hair outlined skin, webbed wings, and a needlepoint beak longer than his arm.

Instead of running in blindly, he stopped and observed. The dwarves seemed to be holding their own, moving forward and backward together and attacking with powerful thrusts in a coordinated effort. One of the creatures fell out of the air. A dwarf gave an order and stabbed the fallen creature while the others thrust their spears upward to keep the rest at bay. Watching them fight was a presentation of skill and mastery.

Fin wondered if his identified ability would work on the creature or if it was just for weapons. What he found left him with more questions than answers, though at least he discovered what the creature was.

* Mammoth Stirge

* Lean, stringy, and chewy.

First, he had an odd feeling that the description showed the creature’s edibility. He tested the theory by identifying one of the guards.

* Dwarf

* Small but filling.

He shook his head in disgust and decided not to tell anyone about it. Of all the abilities he had, this one was by far the most incriminating.

The dwarves made short work of the stirges. They kicked the corpses out of the road and walked back to the carriages with smiles. Pimley held up a few strands of grass and said something with a hopeful look on his face. The others laughed at him and directed them towards Fin’s carriage. He eventually gave up, threw the grass away, and walked dejectedly forward.

Fin couldn’t believe it. The guards all fought what could have been the most frightening-looking monsters he had ever seen, but they didn’t want to share a carriage with him because of Void? Furthermore, they were all laughing and smiling as if the fight had been no big deal.

The carts moved forward again, falling into the same routine. Fin was happy to tour the outskirts of the dwarven city but was only slightly discouraged. Pimley did not want to talk. He considered unstowing Void and having it harass the solemn dwarf when he saw something strange.

He stopped the carts and walked out into an open field. He waded through waist-high grass under a stone hill. Ahead of him, dead trees hanging at obtuse angles sat bundled together at the far end of the field. His destination was nowhere in particular and everywhere around him. He could see densely sporadic signs of precious metals through his ability, but they looked nothing like gold veins or gem clusters he was used to.

The ones he could see above ground lay dispersed, shallowly around in an almost uniform pattern. He stopped at a spot with a large enough item to start his investigation. He dug in the ground with his fingers, wishing he had a shovel, to find a clue of what was hiding in the ground around him. Finally, he had dug deep enough to uncover a remnant of what might have been a money pouch and dislodged three coins from the earth. As he tromped back through the grass to show the others, he noticed they were gathered around the base of a grassy hill, eating food from wooden baskets.

“This place is full of odd things spread around the ground,” He explained, holding out one of the grubby coins he found. “It might be worthwhile to look into it.”

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Marriam told him to help himself with the food she brought, which consisted of breads, cheeses, preserved meat, and not one, but two casks of her own “Special reserve.” As he started picking through the baskets, Marriam dripped an amber liquid from her cup onto the coin. She repeated the process several times, rubbing the face of the coin with her thumb.

Fin filled a cup and had already taken two drinks before the overwhelmingly unpleasant flavor registered in his mind. A confusing amalgamation of flavors assaulted him from every direction at once. One flavor, in particular, held no mysteries; it was sour! Not “I left the dough out too long,” sour, but “This dough was left out when your grandmother was born.” It gave him a similar feeling to when he ate a gooseberry; it was a lesson his brain told him he was about to learn again.

He waited for an opportunity to spit it out. Marriam exclaimed something in dwarven, and all attention was on her. He was one second too late before her full attention slammed into him like the executioner’s axe.

“Where did you find this?” she asked, holding up the now perfectly visible silver coin.

Fin swallowed, grimaced, and then pointed toward the trail he had made in the grass. “Just over there, this place is full of them. Or, full of something similar.”

To make his point, he pushed through his mental exhaustion and peered at the ground around him. Transfixed on an area several paces away, he set down his cup and started digging with his hands. Then, he discreetly unstowed his dagger and used it to dig. When his target was partially uncovered, he gripped it and tore it from the ground, pulling up a handful of debris. When he inspected the item, he saw it was a ring. Unfortunately, it was still attached to the skeletal remains of its late owner’s hand. An audible gasp came from the dwarven onlookers, and Fin dropped the hand with a shriek, high pitched enough to disappoint his father.

The dwarves ran to the skeletal hand and began poking it with their spears and toes. Marriam leaned down and picked it up with a calm courage that would have earned Fin’s father’s respect. She removed the ring and tossed the rest away like the bones on a dinner plate. After dropping a small amount of her private reserve on the ring, she showed everyone the emblem it bore.

“This writing isn’t Dwarven,” she muttered before attempting to give it to one of the scribes. The scribe ambled backward and leaned in as if Marriam was simply showing it to her.

“It’s Elvish, I believe,” she said before nodding as if she had seen all there was to see.

“Dark Elvin,” the other scribe corrected. “The letters are straight, not curved. That’s assuming it’s letters at all, but It’s not a picture, so what else could it be?”

“Do elves live around here or something?” Fin asked out of curiosity. He had never seen an elf or didn’t think he did. All he knew was they had pointy ears, which could probably be hidden under a hat easily enough if he had.

“No,” Marriam answered, apparently giving up on trying to offer the ring to anyone else. “That’s what makes this so strange. Do you think you can find anything else?”

Fin shrugged and started looking around. He could tell his energy was almost gone. If he was in the mine, he would eat something or lay down for a nap, but they were running out of time; the sun had already begun to set. So, he mustered all his determination, set his jaw, and finished the rest of Marriam’s potent drink. He followed it up by throwing berries, bread, and cheese in his mouth to rid himself of the flavor.

“I have been a poor host,” Marriam said sincerely. “I should have given you food to travel with, and now you are starving.”

If his mouth wasn’t full, he would have had to figure out how to say, “I’m just trying to get the flavor of your disgusting cider out of my mouth,” in a polite way. Instead, he waved to suggest, “It’s okay, this is just how I eat,” and pushed through his exhaustion to activate his ability.

All of the treasures in the ground gave up their secrets at once. Working quickly, he marked the treasures with bits of bread and instructed the guards to dig in those places. He then turned and faced the grassy hill behind the picnic and stared. There was a faint glow in a very distinct pattern on the face of the hill underneath the foliage. Before he could investigate, his willpower gave out, and his ability faded into normal vision.

Fin sat on the ground, needing a moment to close his eyes and collect himself. Marriam asked about him with concern, but he assured her that he was fine. She soon turned her attention to the others digging in the places indicated by bread. The guards dug out another coin, the rusted remains of what could have been a dagger, and an obscurely large button. When he told them about the odd symbols he had seen in the hill, it was already too late to investigate. So, the scribes wrote quick descriptions and were directed back to the carts.

The trip back was surprisingly quick. The carriage carried lit lanterns, but the light had not been useful until they were stopped outside the Traveler’s House.

“Thank you for your help today,” Marriam said sweetly. “I will bring breakfast in the morning, and make sure to bring extra travel rations.”

Fin was surprised at the implication that he would go with her again in the morning. Hadn’t he done enough to satisfy his end of the deal? He hadn’t just shown her a brand-new mining site brimming with precious metals and discovered a potentially lucrative ruin? He was still formulating his response when the carriages pulled away, not giving him a chance to negotiate. His time was valuable, and he had more important things to do than ride around in a carriage couped up with dull company all day. He sighed and walked towards his room. He could deal with it tomorrow.