The next two weeks passed quickly. Apparently, Bernadette had been pushing herself hard ever since she got to this new world, and she needed those weeks to fully recover. I’m not sure how I would ever make it up to her for not noticing how hard.

Rachel and I stayed busy. Rachel worked on gathering information — this meant drinking, a lot of drinking — and I worked on my archery skills. Rachel was right. I needed to hang back, and if I was going to do that, I needed to get good at shooting.

Cal had a small recurve hunting bow made for me, maybe only a forty pound draw, which was good enough at close ranges to be dangerous. I also trained with the crossbow. The crossbow was supremely more accurate and packed a better punch, with its damn near 200 pound draw, but I could get three or four arrows down the lane for every one crossbow bolt.

Cal could do twelve with his longbow.

I was a shit shot no matter what I used. I considered focusing fully on the hunting bow just to cause chaos and confusion more than actually getting any kills, but Cal convinced me that I could do both.

He was a nice guy, once you got past the strange herb he smoked, and his penchant to start fights. He was wicked at cards, though I was starting to suspect that maybe he cheated. He must be young, but it was hard to tell with his elven features.

It took me a while to clock, but there was an anger in him. It came out in the way he fought, and in the way he drank. Living in a fantasy world, I just assumed people were chill all the time, you drank and ate like hobbits, and lived a simple life. But that was not the case for Cal.

Here I was, even after all my talk to Bernadette, assuming that these people weren’t as complex as people always are. What had happened to give him all this anger?

At the end of that two weeks, we were packed up and ready to go. Cal agreed that Brindletree was the natural next stop. He wanted to stock up on dried mushrooms for our trip, and I wanted that mithril sword. We were starting to get a sizable pile of gold, even after buying new camping supplies, and I hoped that Darlara would part with it for a reasonable price.

We had two tents now, and enough bedrolls for everyone. Bernadette got a set of locksmith’s tools. And I had my new bow. We somehow managed to be more prepared for this trip than we’d ever been. And having a pack of cards proved invaluable for our stress levels.

Cal revealed himself to be a pleasant travel companion, and with his help we made outstanding time. He took us down game trails to cut corners, and worked well on little sleep. He caught us game. He steered us around problems before we reached them.

At this point, I was willing to admit that I was wrong about rangers. Having a ranger was nice.

The only fight those first couple of days was an ogre. I would narrate a blow by blow for you, but for the simple fact that it was over pretty quickly.

He charged out of the brush swinging a club, and we scattered. Rachel kept him occupied by grabbing his club while the rest of us filled him with arrows. I didn’t miss a single shot with my bow. He was a twelve foot tall creature the size of a sedan, so that didn’t say too much about my accuracy, but I at least got a little practice out of it.

Cal led us through the forest to a cave that was its hideout, and we found a gruesome sight of hanging bones and piles of gore. A huge cauldron had a bubbling concoction that smelled unholy. We worked quickly.

It was a decent haul at the end of the day — damn near 300 gold worth of coins and gems. The real treasure was a small handaxe. With the runes etched in its blade, it was surely magic.

That night, Cal and I sat for first watch. We had a stream to our backs, and the path back to the road in front of us. The moon lit the night like a floodlight.

“You ever killed a dragon?” I asked.

“No. Regardless, a dragon this close to civilization must be chased off.”

“Yeah, but we don’t have to be the ones that do it,” I said.

“To tell you the truth, rumor of this creature had reached me already. I was considering hunting it myself. So, I am glad you found me, and saved me from an inglorious death.”

“Why? Why does it have to be you? Aren’t there other, stronger rangers?”

“Not free ones,” he said. “They all belong to the king of elves. And he doesn’t seem to see it as a problem yet.”

“Why aren’t you one of them?”

“Why should I be?” he said, taking a drag from his cigarette, and I let the question hang for a bit. “What do you know about kingdoms?” he asked.

“Not much,” I answered. “Where I’m from we don’t have kings. At least not anymore.”

“What do you have? Who controls the people?”

“Practically? Nobody. Realistically, commerce.”

I wasn’t a huge market and political theory guy, but I recognized where the power lay in a place like Texas. If you weren’t on the oil man’s payroll, you worked for somebody that was.

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

“Commerce? It may not be so different here. A kingdom does a pretty good job helping itself, and a piss poor job helping people. And if I want to do something worth a damn, I’d like to help people, not a kingdom.”

“Based,” I said without thinking about it. Then I followed up with, “um, I mean, I think that sounds something like wisdom.”

“I don’t know how wise it is. It sometimes feels like I live this way out of spite, as much as preference. I would live a more comfortable life as knight to a king.”

I pulled out a flask of elven brandy and offered him a sip. He took me up on it. I tried his cigarette, and coughed. It had a pleasant burn. The herb wasn’t my cup of tea, but it wasn’t without its appeal.

After a while we agreed that I should get some sleep. He said he’d wake Rachel when it was time.

We’d split into a boys tent and a girl’s tent, so that meant that I had some time to myself. I stared at the harsh light of my slate for longer than I’d like, then settled in, and tried to get rest.

The tent flap opened, nightsong drifting in, but I didn’t hear his feet. Cal was a stealthy dude, but even he made noise walking in. So, it couldn’t be Cal.

Before I could really figure out what was going on, Bernadette had straddled across my waist.

“Hey,” I said.

She just looked at me, dark uncertain eyes shining in her pale face. We were both in our shifts, basically just cotton shorts and long shirts. So the feeling of her on me was immediate, and took all of my attention.

“Um, what’s up?” I struggled to ask.

“Rachel headed out for watch,” she said. “Which means we have at least 15 minutes of chit chat until either one of them heads back.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

She broke into a nervous grin.

“Did you need to talk about something?” I asked.

I was a little worried about what she was going to feel, on top of me like this. Even without the physical contact, the moonlight that shone through her thin white shift illuminated quite a bit of her.

I could feel the heat from her body keenly.

“Aren’t you going to kiss me?” she asked.

I sat up, and our faces were inches from each other.

“Do you want me to?”

“Oh, my god, I’m practically throwing —”

I kissed her. I was unsure at first, and led with small, soft kisses, but she kissed me back, and then it was on. I pulled her into me tight, her lips parted and I searched with my tongue. I suddenly pulled back.

“Is that too much?” I asked.

She pushed me down, slid across me, and kissed me before I could say anything else. I tried to keep my hands respectfully on her sides, but then she began grinding her hips into me, and I got the notion that maybe I could be a little less respectful.

I kept hold of her tight, then rolled to get on top of her. She wrapped her legs around me and I cupped her breasts, and I kissed her harder. When I kissed her neck, I heard a little moan that damn near short circuited my brain.

Pushing myself back, I gave her a little space so that we could catch our breath.

She crawled backward and stared at me.

“This is just kissing,” she said.

“Right,” I said, mind swirling. The reality of what touching her felt like beat the daydreams I had been stuffing back down into my subconscious for the last couple months by miles.

This was just kissing. It was nice, but it couldn’t be anything else.

“We can’t do anything else,” she said, standing.

“Of course,” I said, standing too. “I don’t have a condom for one.”

She punched me on the arm. I took a step forward. She threw her arms around my neck, and kissed me again. I picked her up and spun her around, and she giggled despite herself.

“Stop that!” she said. I put her down, but I couldn’t keep the grin from my face.

“Stop what?” I asked.

“Being all, that, all cute.”

“I’ll be however I like,” I said.

“No, this was just…”

“Just what?” I asked. I had no idea why this was happening, so I had to wait for her to give me a clue.

“It’s just nice to kiss someone I trust.”

“Nice to be trusted,” I said.

“Maybe we’ll do this again.”

I crossed the space between us, and pulled her into me. I could feel her body melt into mine, and I ran my fingers through her hair as I kissed her. If this was it, I wanted it to count.

She broke the kiss first, but lingered, our faces close. Then she bit my bottom lip, hard.

“Hey!”

“Something to remember me by,” she said. “Think good thoughts!”

Then she was gone. I was glad for the ten or so minutes I had alone before Cal got back to the tent

I tried to tamp down my grin when he got in, but he noticed it anyway.

He pointed to me first, then pointed in the direction of the other tent, and mouthed the name ‘Bernadette.’

“Yep.”

He gave an approving shrug, and we both turned away from each other, and tried to sleep. No use trying to keep a secret in a group this small. It was gonna get out eventually.

I couldn’t sleep. Man I needed to. I turned to look at Cal. He had his eyes closed. Somehow sensing me, he opened them.

“What?”

“How do you know you’re doing the right thing?”

Cal grumbled, and turned to the ceiling of the tent.

“People that are certain they’re doing the right thing have often stopped caring if it’s true.”

“Huh.”

There was silence after that. I looked at the ceiling of the tent too.

“Wait,” he said. “Are we talking about girls?”

“Yeah.”

“Shit, friend, you have to just ask ‘em.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“What do you mean?

“I’m not sure.”

“I don’t know much about girls,” he continued, “but if you aren’t sure if you are doing right by someone, you can just ask them. A lot of things come with ambiguity, and the heart is no exception. But if you don’t know if a woman likes you, you just ask them.”

“I don’t know if it’s about like.”

“Then what is it about?”

“I don’t know, Cal. Maybe I’m fucking everything up.”

“Could be. You’re certainly fucking up my sleep.”

“Goodnight Cal.”

He just turned in his bedroll, and grumbled to himself.