“Thank you all for your help,” said Hagfar Embrasen, leader of the caravan, bowing towards the full tavern room. “Without you, we would’ve either starved in that cave, or become food for them Cloud Spiders. I made sure that you all receive a reward through the adventurers guild.”

Cheers ran loud and Hagfar had to raise his hands to quiet down the crowd. Raising his tankard of ale, he continued: “As a special thanks, I want to invite you all to food and drink tonight.”

People raised their tankards in return, cheering even louder. Maids flitted through the crowded room, refilling tankards and plates.

Rethia perched on a stool, glaring at the game of Mu Torere in front of her, while Sven gorged himself on a plate of cut fruits and assorted nuts.

“I give up!” she half-spread her wings in defeat, ruffling her feathers and grabbing a rabbit leg.

Marwin grinned and reset the board.

Kaska leaned in. “You’re playing Nine Man Morris?”

“The easy version of Mu Torere,” grumbled Rethia.

“Want to try? You get three stones, and you drop them on one of the 8 spots on the wheel. You have to move them around to finish the mill and win. That’s a straight line through the middle,” explained Marwin.

“Like this?” Kaska put three stones on the board.

“Yes, just like that.” (Marwin)

“And I can only drop them on the outside wheel? The middle is only reachable by moving?” (Kaska)

Marwin nodded.

“Five silver that she wins,” said Thomas.

“Six that she looses,” grinned Stooge.

“Fine, I’ll match.” (Thomas)

The round started and their eyes were glued to the board, following every move of the players.

“Hah! You can make already count out the coins, Stooge,” grinned Thomas, after Kaska had pushed a stone into the middle.

Rethia blinked and leaned back a little, noticing the positions of the red stones from Marwin. That looks devious…

Three moves later, Marwin finished the mill. Groaning, Thomas handed the coins over to Stooge.

Kaska leaned back with a happy sigh: “It’s both easier and more difficult than the version I know.”

“What’s the difference?” asked Marwin, eyes sparkling with interest.

“For one, the board is larger. More possibilities to place the stones. And everyone starts with nine stones. You can ‘kill’ a stone, if you box it in on two sides. and if you have only three stones left, you are allowed to move them anywhere on the board, instead of only the adjacent fields.”

“Huh. Do you have a board? I would like to try it.” (Marwin)

“I can draw it on something. Do you have paper and ink? Or maybe the ground outside could do…” (Kaska)

“How about leather and charcoal?” Marwin pushed both towards her. “Much cheaper than paper and we can stay close to our drinks.”

Rethia watched the first game of this Nine Man Morris, but quickly lost interest. It was more complicated than the easy version of Mu Torere and she couldn’t even win that.

The search leader and Hagfar the caravaneer were talking on one table. Most Wanderers had splintered into smaller groups where they seemed to know each other very well, barely mingling with others. The native adventurers sat in small clusters, close to the caravaneers.

It was boisterous and warm and loud. Almost like a festival, but a proper festival would’ve had sky races and cloud dances. Although the food was good.

Stew, roasts, fried vegetables, fresh fruits and nuts. A plate with small treats was placed next to her by a hurried maid. It looked like thick cookies with a fluffy white cloud on it, topped with three blueberry.

She ate one. Then grabbed for a second and wondered where the rest had gone. Sven looked at her reproachfully.

“Gigi gi! Gii!”

“What? I didn’t eat them all. I only ate the one!” Or so she thought. She couldn’t remember grabbing a second of the deliciously sweet and fluffy things. She closed her eyes, recalling the taste. Like a sweet cloud with an aftertaste of blueberries.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Sven hopped up and down angrily, chattering at her.

“Looks like someone got a sweet tooth.”

“I only ate one!” protested Rethia, unable to identify who had said that.

“Yes. One plate full. You practically gobbled them down,” laughed Stooge.

“Lies!” (Rethia)

Just to show them, she didn’t touch the next plate of tiny treats. It looked like slices of apple cake and it smelled heavenly.

“You sure you don’t want a slice?” ribbed Stooge, pushing one of the tantalizing treats closer to her. Rethia scrunched her nose and bit into a tender piece of boar, garnished with cooked carrots and potatoes. The distinct flavor of junipers complimented it wonderfully.

“Excuse me. You must be the harpy Rethia.” Hagfar touched her shoulder.

“Tha’ss prob’ly correct, ‘m the only harpy here,” slurred Rethia, lying half-way on the table. “Tha juisse is real good.”

Hagfar looked at Marwin and Kaska, who were still playing board games. Stooge and Thomas had been lured away to different tables. “She’s drunk.”

Both shrugged.

“Don’t know who switched her juice with ale, but she’s been like that ever since,” provided Kaska.

“Only took half a tankard, too,” added Marwin, pushing a stone across the board.

“Wha’ss the problem?” Rethia tried to turn around, one wing flopping from the table to the ground.

Hagfar shook his head. “This will have to wait until tomorrow then. Enjoy the evening.”

On his way back to his table, he stopped a maid, pointing at Rethia: “Make sure she doesn’t get troubled and actually gets to her room.”

The harried woman took a look, then nodded, waving some helpers over. The party was coming to a close. Wanderers were leaving and the native adventurers had long since turned in.

Kaska had to interrupt her game to fetch Stooge, who unlodged a pair of stubborn talons from a stool. The harpy was light enough that a single maid could carry her into a room, Sven following behind with concerned chitters.

Mellow sunlight and a burning headache greeted Rethia in the morning, followed by an unfamiliar room and a hard bed. Moaning, she pulled a wing over her head, to block at least the light from assaulting her poor eyes.

“Guu…” Sven sidled up her wing with a soft croon.

“Go ‘way…”

Crushed mint was held directly under her nose. Eyes wide and sneezing from the piercing scent, she scooted away, falling from the bed on the other side.

“Gii?” Sven sat on the bed, a crushed mint leaf in his paws, head cocked sideways, eyes wide with innocence.

Clawing her way upright, Rethia gave him the evil eye. It held barely three heartbeats, before she whined about about her headache.

“Gi gii.” Sven pointed at the door.

“Bucket of water?” whispered Rethia. “Good idea…”

The way through the inn, the reeking tavern room and around the house to the well was long. Longer than it should’ve been.

A freezing bucket of water over her head later let her feel more awake. But the headache was still going strong.

“Food…” she shuddered at the thought of returning to that reeking tavern room. People had been shoved under the tables, and although the tables and floor had looked clean, the stench was still there. A stench she couldn’t place and that made her headache worse.

Groaning, she crouched right next to the well, washing her dry travel rations down with the ice cold water.

“Good morning!” A large man greeted her as he rounded the building and pulled a bucket of water for himself. Blonde hair was pulled into a neat ponytail.

“Morning,” mumbled Rethia, looking up into lake blue eyes. Ruffling her feathers, her attention returned to her mug of water. It helped a little against the headache and the uncontrolled shaking that had caught her claws.

“I’m lucky to meet you this early. I thought you would be sleeping late,” started the man.

“I always wake with the sun,” muttered Rethia, staring into her mug.

There was a rustle and a short, meaningful silence. Probably checked that the sun has been up for some time.

“I wanted to talk to you yesterday, but you were rather… indisposed.”

Can’t he just leave me alone with my headache? Who is he even? Please go awaaay.

Rethia downed her mug, stuffed it into a pouch and stood up. Her headache flared briefly.

“Please excuse me.” Even standing, she had to look up at the man. With a brief nod, she stalked off, in search of a nice private perch to take a nap.

Crunching steps followed her.

“I won’t take much of your time.” The man strolled after her. “Thank you for saving us from those dreadful spiders. I got a short summary from the search leader and I listened to some of the adventurers last night. Without you, we would’ve been stuck in that cave so long, we would’ve all been turned into spider feed. And I want to thank you for escorting us to Etrimera.”

Rethia stopped in her tracks, glancing sideways at the man. “Who are you even?”

The man laughed, the sound tearing into her head like a tigers claws.

“Sorry, sorry! I thought- never mind.” He swept into a deep bow. “I’m the leader of the caravan, Hagfar Embrasen. Please let me thank you in all formality for finding and couragously saving us.”

“You’re the caravan leader?” squeaked Rethia. “I… I… ah… I… sorry for my terrible manners! I didn’t know! You looked different last night and, and, uuh…”

“Don’t worry about the details!” laughed Hagfar, patting her shoulder with enough strength to throw her off balance.

Stumbling, she landed face-first on the wet ground. It’s cool. I’m tired. Maybe I should just stay right here. Sven hissed up at Hagfar.

“Apologies.” Hagfar grabbed her around the waist and put her back on her talons. “I sometimes forget to restrain my strength and you’re so light! Are all harpies as light as you?”

“I don’t know.” Mournfully, she stared at the light mud coating on her feathers. Wonderful. Got a headache and I have to clean up.

“Come. I’ll invite you to breakfast as a proper apology.” (Hagfar)

———

Rethia lazily circled above the caravan. Three days since leaving the mine-village and she was already bored out of her mind. The caravan was positively crawling around the mountainous area, where the cursed mist had grown thicker and wider again. A problem the adventurers guild would take care of – probably with regular hunting requests issued primarily to Wanderers.

Bored, she landed on the replacement wagon, ignored the funny gazes from the Wanderers and pulled a deformed piece of wood out. With her claws, she whittled the rough outline into a twisted creature. It had four legs, a long tail, a too long body and a mashed head. Grumbling, she started with a new piece of wood.

Except for hourly flights to check on the surroundings and the rare hunt, Rethia spent the ride to Etrimera on the wagon, carving wood into small strange figures.