My breath caught, and for a time I lost myself in admiring the water sculpture—the expression on her upturned face, almost as if Ikiira was a flower basking in the moon’s beneficence. She wore buckskin, like the time I’d seen her in the Gloominess of Forgotten Memories, and her eyes were just as blue as then too.

I caught sight of Ikfael’s spirit circling Ikiira from below. The otter looked, briefly, like she was going to flow up into the sculpture, but she seemed to change her mind and came to the pond’s edge instead. The otter materialized out of the water to sit along the bank.

I went to sit beside her, the two of us gazing at Ikiira. Then, Ikfael set her into motion. At first, the sculpture’s face shifted from one emotion to another—she was solemn, sad, smiling, laughing, and angry—like a teenager testing her appearance in the mirror, trying on different expressions to see which showed her in the best light.

Ikiira seemed to gasp and then looked at her hands in surprise. She glanced from side to side as if she’d suddenly found herself in a strange body and at an unknown place. The hairs all along my arms rose; it was that uncanny.

Motion out of the corner of my eye drew my attention. Ikfael was signing.

“I don’t know that she would’ve liked you,” she said. “This Ikiira enjoyed feeling like she was the special one.”

“Somehow, I don’t think she would’ve had to worry too much about me outshining her,” I said.

Ikfael nodded. “Perhaps. She could use both qi and mana magic, and was Water-Touched too. A lodge master for the ages people called her.”

“How old was she when she went to lift the curse on Voorhei?” I asked.

“Seventeen,” Ikfael signed, “and so full of her own worth—so easily swayed.”

“You’ve never talked about this before,” I observed.

“I didn’t remember everything until that dream.” Ikfael turned to look at me. “It was all so long ago.”

Ikiira stilled and then came to a seated position on the water. She braided her hair, seeming to observe us as we watched her in turn. Dimly, I noted Yuki asking the rest of the team to give Ikfael and me this opportunity to speak without distractions. Even the hidden watchers seemed to be keeping their distance.

“We should assume we’re being spied upon,” I said.

Ikfael nodded again, but she didn’t reply beyond that. Ikiira’s history was known in Voorhei and likely documented in Albei too. The sculpture’s presence wouldn’t reveal any secrets.

The whole story was just so heartbreaking—the young lodge master sacrificed to break a village’s curse. “I would’ve gone in your place,” I said.

Ikfael’s response was to have Ikiira sign, “I know you would’ve, but that too would’ve been a mistake.”

“Was it? A mistake, I mean?”

Ikfael sighed, while Ikiira signed, “No. In the end, the benefits were greater than the costs, but there were certain people who deserved to suffer more than they did.”

“Ah, I understand that frustration.”

“It’s too late now,” Ikiira signed. “Time has swallowed both the guilty and the innocent alike. Death has washed them clean.”

“That’s not how it works,” I replied. “Unless people really push to undo the suffering, they take it with them—the things they experienced and the things they did to others.”

Ikiira smirked, and for the first time the expression wasn’t quite right—a bit of Ikfael on Ikiira’s face. It was distracting enough that I almost missed the sculpture signing, “This is a truth, yes, although it doesn’t do me any good, does it?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I really don’t, but I’m confident I would’ve died without Ikfael at the Glen. No matter how she ended up there, whatever twisted journey brought her to that place, my life has been better as a result. And not just because she saved my life, either. She—you—”

For a moment, Ikiira was forgotten, and Ikfael demanded, “What? I what?”

“I’d die for you,” I said.

Ikfael smacked me. “You damn fool. That’s the problem! I don’t want you to die for me; I want you to live for me.”

That… that might have been more than Ikfael had intended to say, because she suddenly turned aside, embarrassed, while Ikiira became very still; the water puppet was frozen in time.

There’d been a connotation to Ikfael’s signs that I had not missed, and it absolutely threw me for a loop. “How would that even work?” I blurted out.

Ikfael was too busy looking away to respond, so she started Ikiira up again to sign, “I can’t tell you.”

“Is this a beloved thing?” I asked.

“No, no, no,” Ikiira signed forcefully, except she blushed. Ikfael tinged the sculpture’s face pink, the color spreading down her neck and out to her ears.

Talk about mixed messages, and the emotional whiplash was so very real. I went from thinking I was in danger of being kicked out of the Glen to… to… the potential for a relationship with a spirit of the land? Not romantic obviously, but not familial either. Something else. Maybe something like Leilu and Moonlight had—they were beloved to each other.

Was it a kind of contract? Except then why had Ikfael made Ikiira blush?

But Ikfael was an otter, and that was not my thing. Ikiira, on the other hand, was… cute. And dead, I reminded myself.

Just what was I supposed to do in this situation? I must’ve taken too long to decide, because Ikfael suddenly vanished into her figurine. Ikiira disappeared only moments later, falling into the water, a disappointed look in her eyes. Just before she was gone, though, I caught her signing, “You idiot.”

###

My team came back from their wanderings curious about what Ikfael and I had talked about, yet I couldn’t say a word. A pinprick from a stone needle and her glare from within the figurine kept my mouth shut.

I wondered if the members of my team sensed something, though. Teila had a pitying expression on her face all the way back to the inn.

The staff at the Horn greeted us, and the cooks came out to take the bundles of drunkard’s ease we’d collected. There was more than was needed for a roast, so they told me they’d sell the excess on our behalf. They also said that they’d procured a leg of javelina just for me. It should be delivered the day after next.

I thanked them, of course, but also wondered if a roast was even a good idea anymore. Things with Ikfael had gotten complicated in a way I hadn’t expected. I must’ve been dazed, because I barely noted leaving the kitchen, going upstairs, wishing the others a good night, and getting ready to sleep.

I blew out the candle but lay in bed staring at the ceiling—my mind turning. Yuki and I dissected the evening’s every word and every motion endlessly.

We also reviewed what we knew about Leilu and Moonlight’s relationship. They were beloved to each other, obviously, but that hadn’t kept Moonlight from being part of the silver wolf pack nor from siring children with the other alpha, Scout.

Still, there was clearly a bond between Leilu and Moonlight, and I wondered if they were lovers. I just couldn’t see how, though. An egret and wolf… not to be crass, but the biology just didn’t work. Love didn’t require a physical component—the two could be a comfort to each other without it—but sex was nice, you know?

At a little after three in the morning, I heard a whoosh as Ikfael left her figurine. Turning over, I saw her hop up to the window sill to gaze out at Albei, the rest of the city asleep. She seemed to have calmed down.

If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

“Do you—” I started to say, but she waved for me to stop.

“There’s nothing I can tell you,” she signed.

“Would Grace help?” I asked. The spell could act as a way around the communication barriers; it was the best of the ideas Yuki and I had come up with.

“Probably,” Ikfael replied, “which is why we can’t do it.”

“What if it was an accident? Like you got caught in the spell’s range. Or I just did it anyway?”

“You’d force the spell on me?” she asked.

“No,” I said. “Never. I was just… I was just asking questions and trying to find an angle.”

Ikfael nodded and went back to gazing outside, leaning against the window. The inn’s staff had given me a nice room, and the glass was mostly clear. The few lights still shining across the sleeping city twinkled like stars.

###

Eventually, I did sleep. It was just a couple of hours, but my body was young and I had Dog’s Agility to pick me up and get me going in the morning. The day was supposed to be a full one, with meetings scheduled across the city.

I found Ikfael lightly snoring on one of the cushions, so I moved quietly and methodically despite the spell’s demand to fast-fast-fast. Mostly, I just grabbed my gear, so that I could arm myself out in the hall and not disturb her sleep.

As I headed out the door, Snow wished me well on the day. She’d be staying behind to keep Ikfael company.

The rest of the team was already downstairs. Only Haol was still eating, the others lingering over the same tea of mint and drunkard’s ease I’d been served before. Breakfast looked to be a porridge with grilled wild leeks and fiddleheads, and as I sat at the table, a server brought me a bowl.

Mm… there was a rich, grassy, nutty flavor that was good. The cooks here knew what they were doing. The folks at the Ten Point had better watch out.

Haol set aside his bowl, and I noted how there was porridge left at the bottom. Bless his heart, he asked, “Do you want to talk about last night?”

“Not even a little bit,” I said between bites.

He and Mumu glanced at each other, bits of spirit stuff moving between them. It was apparently her role to follow-up, because she asked, “Are you sure? While none of us have been where you are, we’ve been in situations close enough that we might offer advice.”

I sighed and set my bowl aside. “I’m sure you could, but the… ah… other party doesn’t want me to.”

“Is it special circumstances?” Tegen asked, probing.

“Yes,” I replied, “and complicated too, touching upon her privacy. The gist is that, for various reasons, she doesn’t want me to leave the Glen.”

“And you do,” Tegen said.

“I mean, eventually, right? That was the plan, but now I’ve agreed not to go anywhere without her.”

“Our friend is tied to the land she inhabits,” Mumu said carefully.

“Yeah, I know.”

These people were sharp. They’d spotted right away the loophole in the promise I’d made to Ikfael, but I didn’t know yet how to take advantage of it—how I might pull Ikfael away from the Glen to go adventuring with me.

Teila reached over to hold my hand. “What can we do?”

“I’m not sure to be honest. For now, just keep an eye on both of us, but especially our friend. I think she’s struggling more than she lets on.”

“The memory of her life before,” Mumu said.

I nodded and picked up my spoon to resume eating, then I put it down again; my appetite had gone.

The rest of breakfast turned into a coordination session, with the team deciding to split up. Tegen and Haol would head to the Hunter’s Lodge to dig up any records they might have on Old Baxteiyel. Afterward, they’d connect with Anya to review the expedition’s logistics and any independent research she’d done.

Meanwhile, Mumu would join me in doing the rounds, since you never knew when the topic of the Tournament of Masks might come up. Teila would join us too as part of her training.

All that was left was to arrange for Snow and Ikfael’s care with the inn, and we could be off.

###

Here’s how the day went:

Ossul was Ossul, a bigger-than-life personality absolutely brimming with vitality. Word among the soldiers was that their lodge’s grandmaster was up to thirty-five children. More interesting to me was how busy their lodge appeared to be. It wasn’t just my team getting involved in the race to Old Baxteiyel.

Through Yuki, Mumu let me know that the Hunter’s Lodge was in a similar state. I’d been in my own little world lately, but Albei was apparently abuzz thanks to the Hierophant’s race. People everywhere were talking about it, and anyone who thought they had a chance to win was getting involved.

Even if the people getting involved didn’t think they could win, maybe there would be an opportunity to loot the old ruins. A place like that would have treasures—both natural and manufactured, right? That was what our team would be doing; why shouldn’t others plan to do the same?

Technically, we were supposed to join Ossul for breakfast, but I’d attended these so-called meetings with him before and was prepared for the hour-long physical training he led instead. It was a prank he liked to pull.

Don’t get me wrong, Ossul could be an exuberant eater. It was just: “Training is the food of a warrior!” as he liked to put it, yelling the words with enthusiasm. Afterward, Mumu, Teila, and I visited a public bath, since none of us wanted to inflict our sweaty selves on Uncle Kila who we’d be meeting next.

That meeting was much less intense, thankfully. We spent the time reviewing the books for the Tournament of Masks. Also, a couple of decisions needed to be made about promoting the event more broadly—there were these things called “news sheets” that had developed concurrently in both Ganas Hakei and Sugrusu Hakei, and people could promote their services and products in them. Kila wanted to know what we thought of the idea, as we’d apparently been approached directly by one of the bigger print houses.

Well, I recommended we take advantage of the opportunity. Having seen the power of advertising in my previous life, I knew better than to let it pass us by. In fact, I asked him to inquire about potentially investing in the technology involved.

After Uncle Kila, we met with Aunt Tulu and her family of builders. We had lunch with them in the Taakta district, at the site of a demolished residence they were working on. The story was that the building had had two exterior walls knocked down by a passing colossal kalesk during the Long Dark, and it proved to be more cost effective to start over than repair the damage.

Tulu and I had come to know each other while her family constructed Ikfael’s shrine, so it was nice to catch up—a purely social call because I liked the people. Plus, bonus, we walked away with a handful of maple candies each. The dear lady still liked to carry them around as little gifts.

At that point, Mumu and Teila split off to visit the Diviner’s Lodge. For the last couple of years, they’d been trying to recruit one to swear into our lodge without success. Maybe this time, they’d have better luck.

As for me, I went to meet with Ereinwa, my liaison with the alchemists. They were my biggest source of steady income, so that talk was all business. Mostly, she made it clear that her lodge’s appetite for eilesheile was tremendous, and she pressed me to do anything in my power to increase the lichen’s production.

Alas, Yuki and I were already being as efficient as possible. Over-harvesting the eilesheile risked damaging the sustainability of the venture, and all our experiments to get the lichen to spread beyond the Red Room had failed. There was just something about the way the qi gathered—the light and the ventilation—that made the place special. Efforts to replicate those features had failed too. So far, anyway. We’d just have to continue trying.

Leaving the Alchemist’s Lodge, I had about an hour before I met Iseld for dinner, so I took a stroll around the neighborhood around the pyramid. There was another park nearby.

By that point in my visit to Albei, I’d become accustomed to the smell of blood that pervaded the city, barely noticing the coppery tang in the air. Still, the perfumed mask I’d been given seemed to be losing its punch, so I stopped by a street vendor to buy a new one—this one full of the smell of freshly cut grass.

Then, I parked myself under an old oak and tried not to think too hard about anything. Occasionally, a stray business-related thought passed through my head—the implications of the printing press on Diaksha, for example—but I needed a breather, so I didn’t dwell on any of them. Somehow, I still ended up thinking about what Ikfael had said to me, but that was normal, wasn’t it? And so was not knowing how to feel about it.

For about half an hour, I watched as people walked through the park to get to or to leave Albei’s pyramid. For many, it was their day of the week to contribute mana to the city’s eisendon. Others seemed to have business there, the pyramid being a key administrative center along with the land knight’s fortress and the city head’s offices. More than a handful mentioned the race to Old Baxteiyel in passing—those conversations charged with a heady blend of emotions. It reminded me somewhat of the footage I’d seen of the crowds gathered for the launch of Apollo 11. Or was it more like the stands at the Roman Empire’s gladiatorial games?

Discovery and blood in equal parts, I thought. That’s what’s expected.

Yuki’s qi pulsed in agreement. ‘People are betting on the teams who’ve announced their participation. There are three categories: surviving the ruins, entering the pyramid, and winning the race. Word has already spread of our lodge’s involvement, so the odds of survival for Anya’s expedition have gone up.’

And what about the other categories? I asked.

‘No one has good odds for entering the pyramid or winning the race,’ Yuki replied.

Huh. That makes sense given that it’s gone unplundered for so long.

Yuki’s attention briefly faded to handle a request from someone else in the network before returning to me again. ‘The fact there’s any betting at all around a team winning the race is due to people’s faith in the hierophant’s divinations.’

Do I dare ask the odds for our team’s survival?

‘Even money,’ Yuki answered. ‘Mumu checked, and she was quite pleased by it. We’re one of the front runners in that regard.’

Please don’t tell me she placed a bet.

‘Okay, then we won’t.’

I sighed. Mumu’s Money Lover talent had evolved into Invested, but some habits were apparently hard to break. Actually… as I thought about it, I realized that her reasoning wasn’t bad. If she won the bet, she’d double her money, and if she lost the bet, then she’d be dead and wouldn’t feel the loss.

Hmm… as long as I make sure there’s enough set aside for the family… Yuki, can you ask Mumu to place a bet for me too?

‘You want it on our personal survival or the whole team’s survival?’ Yuki asked.

Ugh, it’d be bad to bet on just our personal survival, like saying we didn’t have faith in the rest of the team. They’d know that wasn’t the case, but still…

‘How about half and half?’ Yuki suggested.

That feels a bit cold blooded, but sure, let’s do it, I thought. Five antaak split between the two bets.

‘Big spender,’ Yuki mocked.

Hey, I just paid our taxes not that long ago, plus upgrading my bow, stilettos, and hauberk to Level 3 cost me sixteen antaak. It’s lucky—

‘We know, we know!’ Yuki said. ‘We’re just poking fun.’

You have to be careful, I thought, not wanting to let the point go. Playing around with discretionary spending is one thing; risking a family’s life savings on the other hand… it’s nothing to joke about.

Yuki probably didn’t need the reminder, but I gave it anyway. Really, some things you just didn’t mess around with.