When we arrived at the dock, all four ports were occupied with ships. A few laborers were busying about and there were far more guards posted than when we arrived. Among the ships was a giant, beautiful vessel with black wood, golden trim, and blood red sails. Nessy led us past it and over to what looked like a small fishing boat.

“This?” Roland said, his nose wrinkled up as if he might sneeze.

“Yes,” said Nessy.

“Oh my god, man, what?” He laughed. “We won’t make it.”

“Edgar says he’ll lend a hand,” said Nessy.

“You’re talking with him?” I asked.

“He’s talking to me,” said Nessy. “Hop in.”

We undocked and slowly drifted away from Edith.

“We’re gonna need a lot more wind!” yelled Roland. It was ironically very windy, so much so that I could barely hear him yelling. “This ship is trash!”

“It this safe?” I yelled across the wind.

“What?” Roland yelled back.

Suddenly the ship began shaking. I glanced overboard. We were floating above the water.

Nessy began laughing. She looked genuinely happy.

Roland was not laughing.

“Hold on!” Nessy shouted.

“What?” Roland shouted back.

Suddenly—and I mean suddenly—we shot across the sea like a bullet gone astray. I imagine we traveled a mile before I had time to react to the recoil. I tried to pull myself up but had no hint of success. So I just laid there, wondering what happens if I die here.

After, I don’t know, fifteen minutes or so, we slowed, enough for me to sit up. We had arrived at the docks from which we came. I looked behind me. Nessy’s hair was a sight to behold. Roland was blacked out. The sun was setting behind us.

“Let’s eat,” said Nessy.

We docked, poured fish-smelling water onto Roland, and had a laugh. Well, Roland didn't.

We walked along the boardwalk towards the tavern. Just as before, the bar was piled with drunks. Although this time we noticed a guard posted at the stairs.

“Table for four,” Roland said to the guard.

The guard looked at Roland like he was mad. “Go home, you’ve had enough.”

Roland cracked up laughing. “Still blind as a bat. Have I aged that much?”

The guard leaned in and then cracked up laughing. “The robber’s maid! Rollin Roland Sir Dubious!”

“Dart in the eye, old man!”

Nessy walked past them both and up the stairs.

“Oh,” Roland turned to me and put his arm around me. “Meet Charlie. Charlie, meet Copperpot.”

“Spittin’ image,” Copperpot smiled.

“You doof!” laughed Roland. “He’s not my son!”

Copperpot shrugged with a lazy grin. “God,”he perked up and hit Roland on the shoulder, “you remember that talking horse we found in the hills? “said Copperpot.

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Roland laughed. “I remember the rum we found there.”

“Why were we even stationed there?” asked Copperpot.

“Today I’m convinced the general forgot we were there.”

“Felt like forty years,” said Copperpot.

“Well it was at least a month.”

“Not a soul nearby,” sighed Roland, “save for the sprites.”

“Charlie,” Nessy called from the top of the stairs.

I nodded at the guys and walked up the stairs.

“Hungry?” she asked me.

“Anything but eggs.”

“Let me show you something. Perk of diplomacy.”

I followed her to where we had originally met and into the kitchen. She knew each cook by name. A few of the workers rushed over and handed her food to try.

“Try this,” she said, handing me a handful of what looked like melted blueberry muffin.

I devoured it.

“Oh and this,” she said, handing me what looked like a slab of cornbread between two steaks.

I snatched it from her hands and took a big bite. Oh my God.

“Maybe I shouldn’t leave,” I said between bites.

“Right?” she smiled. “Maybe you shouldn’t.”

“What do you think happens when I die here?”

“When?”

“If.”

She shrugged. “What happens when anyone dies here?”

The cooks were standing around us, smiling.

“It truly is amazing food,” I said.

Nessy nodded to the crowd of chefs.

They bowed and returned to their work.

Nessy was chomping on a blue, green, and red marbled cake of sorts. Half of it was falling on the floor.

“What happens now?” I asked.

She glanced over with a finger raised and shrugged, mouth full. I nodded and took another bite of my inverted hamburger.

“Can’t go back to Tom,” she said. “Bet you guessed that.”

“Why not?”

“Ah, so you didn’t guess that.”

I kept munching, contemplatively.

“Tom’s liable to send you to Zal. Whatever death is, that’d be worse.”

“So what then?”

She shrugged. “Wanna go to Redrock?”

“Yes.”

“Figured so,” she winked. “A train away. Tomorrow morning. I have questions of my own for that lot.”

“What questions?”

“Oh, no, no, no!” She turned to find a nearby chef. “Does this have nightshade in it?”

The chef laughed and nodded.

“Oh, well crap to craps, Gerald, you’re gonna get me loosened up over here. I’m on a quest, you know?”

“I figured,” Gerald the cook smiled.

“He knows,” she shrugged drunkenly.

“She’s usually right,” he said to me.

Nessy laughed. “I love Gerald.”

“I love you too,” he said.

Nessy nudged me. “Let’s go find our dude.”

I followed her out of the kitchen to find Roland sitting at the table we had sat at last time, laughing up a storm with what’s-his-name, the guard from before.

Nessy and I took a seat. Out the window, crowds were thinning, the sun had long set, and there was some drizzle. I always loved the rain. For some reason, seeing the rain here made me sad.

“So, is your station so important you can abandon it to get drunk with us?” Nessy asked the guard.

“See what I mean?” said Roland. “She’s always on my case.”

“His case, in this instance,” said Nessy.

“I’m Copperpot. Heard a lot about you.”

Nessy smiled at him, then turned to Roland. “Dear?”

Roland looked over. “Oh boy,” he turned to me. “What did she drink?”

“It was a cake,” Nessy said.

“Oh man.”

“Roland dear, have you asked your friend anything of practical consequence yet?”

Roland laughed. “Well, I asked him how his family’s doing. They’re doing well without him.”

“All grown up now, yeah. Timmy too. Strong one,” Copperpot said.

“Roland,” Nessy continued, “you know what I both hate and really, really hate about you? And adore.”

“What is that, Nessy?”

“See, you already know it. You know the answer.”

Roland laughed. “Know is a strong word.”

“You play dumb.”

Roland nodded. “Don’t be so sure.”

“Oh, I’m as sure as a wet noodle or two.”

“Are there menus?” Copperpot asked nobody in particular.

“Pardon the thought, Copperpot,” Nessy leaned in. “But perhaps you’ve observed certain signs or symptoms of an impending goblin war?”

The table went silent.

“I mean, really, I haven’t seen a waitress in like ten minutes,” Copperpot commented.

Nessy hit the table with her fist. “Coppercrap, focus.”

She had achieved Copperpot’s attention. “What is up with this lady, dubs?”

Roland shot a glance at me, then Nessy. “She thinks we might be positioning for a war with the goblins.”

Copperpot nodded and sat back in his chair. He gave each of us a solemn look then took a deep breath. “I’ll be honest with you, all of you, and you,” he looked at Nessy, “because I like you,” he hiccuped. “There is reason to believe we may be going to war with the goblins.”

“Which is?” asked Nessy.

Copperpot seemed puzzled by the question.

The kitchen door opened and from it a barmaid approached our table.

“I am so sorry. What can I get you?”

“Menus,” said Copperpot.

“Right. Any drinks?”

“Yes,” said Roland.

The barmaid gave each of us a puzzled look then walked off.

“What makes you think we may be going to war with the goblins?” asked Nessy.

“You’re the one that thinks that!” Copperpot said back. “I’m just connecting the dots now.”

There was a scream. It was from outside. A few people ran by the window near where we were seated. Before I knew it, we were all on our feet and walking over to the deck doorway to get a look. A crowd was gathered. Deep into the horizon, high into the sky, there were meteors of fire.

“Edith,” Roland said.