Within their little village hidden in the leaves of Silvax Forest, there were a few members who had been unofficially assigned leadership roles throughout camp. These were the people who had worked alongside Daivad the longest, had hefted significant responsibilities onto their shoulders and managed not to drop them too many times. Daivad may have brought this village together, but it was these people who kept it alive.
There was Ben, of course—as Daivad’s right hand and the one in charge of the camp’s main food source, the hanging gardens, Ben’s soft bass voice carried almost as much weight as that of their great lug of a leader himself.
And Kadie’s role as resident healer and apothecary was no less important. Apart from keeping them all out of death’s grasp, she worked hard to train others to be just as skilled and caring as she was.
Then there was Doll, ruler of the kitchen, who not only kept the camp fed, but brought them all together with every meal. She was the one that made them a family.
Lenna’s roles were often overlooked as she was in charge of organization as well as tailoring. She didn’t fill bellies or heal wounds—just patched holes and assigned chores. At least that’s how people saw it from the outside. The truth was that she planned outings and attacks on camps, ensured everyone had what they needed, made sure guards were where they should be so camp stayed safe. She made their clothes and their camp appear good as new.
Usually. With one glaring exception.
Tobei admired each of them for the roles they had stepped into. Embraced, even. And he could not for the life of him figure out why whenever they called their little leadership meetings at the ass-crack of dawn, everyone huddled half-asleep around a table in the kitchen, they always insisted he join.
Tobei was not a leader. He did not want to be a leader. The very idea of responsibility gave him hives. He didn’t see why the fact that he’d known Daivad longer than anyone, even Ben, meant he should get dragged to these things.
And he hated it, because these meetings were only called when things were going Wrong, and if Tobei didn’t stay far, far away from things that were Wrong, he could not stop himself from trying to make them Right again. Trying to make sure everyone was happy.
But, as that party on the forest floor had proved, he only ever managed to make things so much worse. He ruined everything he touched.
Before the meeting even began, it was shaping up to be the worst of them all because Daivad and Ben were both gone. Why the hell had Tobei suggested they both go to Luvatha, with the chaos the camp was in right now? He’d done it again.
This morning, everyone was worse than half-awake—they looked about like Tobei did after a week-long bender. Standing in for Daivad as head of combat training was Edra, a serious-looking man of forty-something who seemed only to speak either when he was training a class, or his husband was talking to him. And standing in for Ben as head of the gardens was Wendy, the newest and youngest of this group at only twenty-two.
Everyone’s eyes were decorated with dark circles, but no one looked worse for wear than Lenna. She was normally so done up in her understated way, wearing makeup that didn’t look like makeup, her uniquely masculine clothing tailored perfectly to flatter her feminine figure, her bright hair shiny and loose to appear effortless… But today she wore no makeup, only a vacant, empty expression. Her hair was unbrushed and limp, her clothes slept-in—and a very odd, completely un-Lenna-like scarf tied around her neck.
The oddest thing was that Tobei could have sworn that when he’d rushed Kunin back from Duxon to fetch more horses for their new arrivals, she had already been sporting those dark circles and distant gaze.
Good. Lenna had orchestrated that terrible ending to his party, beyond just killing the beast. He couldn’t prove it, but he was sure. Whatever it was she was losing sleep over, she’d brought it on herself.
“I called the meeting,” Kadie said, rubbing her hands over her chubby cheeks in an attempt to wake herself, “because we deserve an explanation.”
Everyone nodded, so Tobei nodded too. That was fair.
And then they all looked at him.
Tobei stiffened. Normally he reveled in attention. Craved it. But not this kind. “What? This wasn’t my plan.”
“You were beside him at Duxon,” Kadie said—at least she didn’t sound accusatory.
“And beside him when he went running off. Again.” Lenna did sound accusatory.
Kadie ignored Lenna’s addition. “Did he name an intent? A reason? A thought?” Kadie was one of the most laid back people Tobei had ever met, even when she was surrounded by bleeding people all begging for her help, so the edge of frustration in her tone was all the more obvious. “Going alone to take a camp, hauling dozens of people back to a home that can’t hold them. And then just leaving. I’m as grateful as anyone to the man for building this place, but … can anyone name the thoughts that fueled his actions? Can he?”
As naturally as breathing and even less consciously, Tobei went searching for a way to make this Right. He could name Daivad’s thoughts, maybe better than Daivad could himself—at least some of them. Tobei had spent his whole life studying the bastard, right up to the brink of obsession. And that meant he also knew that if he named Daivad’s thoughts to anyone at this table, Daivad would rip Tobei’s nuts off.
But Tobei had to say something, because all of these exhausted, angry people that Tobei loved (except Lenna) were staring at him and Mother help him he could not help but try to fix things. But which words would do so? Which ones would make everyone, including Daivad, happy?
With an easy tone and careful words, Tobei said, “As light as Duxon’s security weighed, Daivad thought the prisoners would barely tip the scale. He didn’t know they’d number so many, or that they’d all follow us home.”
“That don’t name why he went alone up there’n the first place,” Doll grumbled, and then, as was her style, cut right to the point. “It’s about those girls, ain’t it? The ones he let go.”
Lenna bristled and those empty eyes filled suddenly with venom and snapped to Doll. “Why would it be about them? They’re gone.”
“Please,” Doll said, shooting Lenna a look. “The boy been actin’ squirrely since he brought the little one back here. Named it yerself, Lenna. Then right after he let ‘er go, he takes off? Pulls this shit? Think you got some denial in your eye if you cain’t see the thread there, honey.”
Lenna’s face twisted, her fists clenched and shook—and anxiety sparked through Tobei’s muscles, drawing them tight. Her mask was slipping—the pretty face falling away to reveal the foul, desperate creature underneath, and something about that made Tobei very, very uncomfortable. She’d shown him her true face a hundred times before, so why now was he so anxious to grab that mask and jam it back on her face?
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Before Tobei could intervene, Lenna was spitting, “That bitch is batshit, and after she held a fucking funeral for some disgusting nightbeast, Daivad realized it.”
“Right,” Doll drawled, her brown eyes narrowing. “That’s why he gave orders not to disturb the beast’s grave.”
Lenna’s face had gone red and splotchy. “He kicked her out.”
“He ain’t kick ‘er out, she left.”
Lenna started to stand, but Tobei spoke up in a casual but loud tone, taking the reins of the conversation, “I think, Kadie, that reading the reasons behind Daivad’s actions hasn’t been the map to a solution like you’d hoped, and maybe we should try a new one.”
Kadie put a hand on Lenna’s arm, gently keeping the firehead in her seat. “Yeah, at least until he’s around to explain himself.”
“As if he would,” Doll grumbled, settling back in her chair and crossing tiny, bony arms over her aproned chest.
“Tame your tongue,” Lenna spat. “He saved your ancient, miserable ass.”
“Until then,” Kadie plowed ahead loudly, “we need a plan for filling bellies, finding beds, and covering heads of the newcomers. How full is our pantry, Doll?”
“It ain’t.”
Kadie lips, pursed into a straight line, said she wasn’t surprised. “And how heavy hang the gardens, Wendy?”
The girl started at being addressed, and fumbled for a moment before she said, “I—I think for a week or so we’ll find better forage in the forest than ripe produce in the gardens.”
Kadie’s lips got even thinner, but she just nodded.
Lenna, however, still hadn’t managed to affix her mask back on her face, and venom was leaking everywhere. “I have an idea.” She pointed a finger at Tobei, and he scrambled to ensure his own mask was still safely in place. “How about the man responsible for clearing half our food stores to throw a party no one wanted find a way to fill them back up?”
His heart pounded shame through his veins so icy-hot that he had to suppress a shiver. The sensation woke the chorus of toxic voices in his head—the ones that told him she was right. He’d planned the party, convinced Doll to cook all that food, ensured they’d all gathered on the forest floor. As much as he tried to put the blame on Lenna for how it all had fallen apart, he’d presented her with the ripe opportunity. He’d noticed the sudden shift in her right before she’d approved the guard schedule. It was because of him the beast was dead, and Belle and Jac had left in pain, and Daivad had ridden all the way to Duxon in an attempt to outrun his own feelings. It was his fault their camp was teetering, that it might collapse around them any day.
It took all of his concentration to keep his face placid, to keep his hands still on his lap. To keep his own mask carefully in place, so no one would see the filth behind it. So much concentration that there was none left with which he could figure out how to Fix this.
Kadie, blessed Kadie, said, “We all played our part in that. Any one of us could have put a stop to it, especially Daivad. And including you, Lenna.”
It took him a moment to process her words, but when he did, affection warmed his chest, giving him gentle relief from the chill of shame. Mother Dark, he loved Kadie.
“And we’re all working our asses off to clean up the mess,” Lenna continued. “What does he do, other than get high?”
This, Tobei could answer, and in his eagerness to do so his words came out a little rushed. “I told Daivad I’d go into Urden and work out a deal with Jukele, fetch us supplies early.”
“‘Work out a deal with Jukele,’” Lenna scoffed. “So you’ll whore for us, how noble.”
Tobei displayed his teeth. “Just utilizing my most valuable assets to earn the greatest return.”
“Sweet shit,” Lenna shot back, and Tobei did not like the wicked smile that was spreading across her face. “If you were, you’d take all that whiskey and wine you’ve hidden across camp and sell it off. But you won’t because it weighs more in your heart than this whole camp does. You’d let us all starve before you ever went dry.”
Tobei went rigid, heart sputtering. He looked at Kadie, but her pursed lips had turned to a thoughtful frown. Panic began to seep in. “No need,” he said, battling to keep his tone easy. “I can buy us an advance on next month’s supplies with words alone—and we can keep the drink for a rainy day.”
“Our regular supplies will only cross off half our list of needs,” Kadie said gently. “And we haven’t seen a day this rainy in a long, long time. We can’t risk Lenna’s train job until Daivad gets back at least. The contents of that cellar could take us a ways toward stability, Tobe.”
Weakly, Tobei said, “I spent most of my stores on the party. The cellar’s nearly bare—I don’t expect what’s left will work any miracles.” On anyone but me, he thought.
“Sweet shit,” Lenna said, her voice going breathy, her eyes glazed.
Kadie leaned forward, concern scrunching her brows. “Len?”
But Lenna ignored her, rabid. “You’ve got whiskey stashed all over camp because you’re a fucking alcoholic, Tobeic—”
“Len!” Kadie grabbed Lenna by the shoulder as Lenna wavered in her seat, breathing shallow and fast.
A thought flashed in Tobei’s mind—was it an image and an urge? His fingers cracking and claws sliding from their tips. Him, sinking those claws into the soft skin just in front of each ear. Pulling, tearing his own filthy face off. Clawing until all that disgusting flesh was gone, until he wasn’t himself anymore.
Word-paintings that looked like the horrors he saw in mirrors whenever it was too quiet filled his head. Disgusting. Pathetic. Worthless. Ugly ugly ugly—
“Ah, pardon me,” a low, steady voice said from behind Tobei.
Tobei made himself turn and look, because that’s what everyone else did.
The little old man from Duxon stood in the doorway to the kitchen. Edgar was his name, and though he was still as bony and frail looking as he had been in Duxon, the color had returned to his papery skin, or perhaps a bath had simply revealed the color. He wore a plain brown tunic, the best they’d been able to offer him aside from yet another loincloth.
“The prisoners of Duxon,” he said, and Tobei—perpetually, exhaustingly aware of everyone else around him—noticed the skittering of Doll’s pulse, “we plan to earn our keep. We understand we haven’t earned your trust yet, but we want to offer hands in the task of steadying the home … the freedom we’ve been given. Please,” the old man held out gnarled but strong-looking hands, “use them.”
Kadie smiled at the old man, and stepped away from Lenna, who had gone vacant once again, staring at nothing and absently scratching at the scarf around her neck.
“Believe my words, Edgar,” Kadie said, tone friendly, “we’ll keep those hands of yours plenty busy—the moment we can figure out where to direct them…”
Her words drifted off, because it seemed Edgar had stopped listening. The old man’s heart was pounding in his thin chest, almost perfectly matching the rhythm of Doll’s, and his blue eyes had gone completely round. Everyone looked from Edgar to Doll and back, while they just stared at each other.
Finally, weakly, Edgar said, “Dolly?”
But Doll’s scowl didn’t so much as twitch. The only reaction she had at all was that thumping of her heart and her grumbled, “The hell’re you?”
His weathered face twitched like the words had physically slapped him.
“I … Dolly, name me Edgar. From Duxon.” He held out the DUX tattoo on his arm like he felt the need to prove it.
“You name yerself like it’s heavy with meanin’, but it weighs nothin’ to me. And I name myself Doll.”
“I knew you,” he said, “at Duxon. You don’t … remember?”
Lying through her crooked old teeth, Doll said, “Sorry, hun. I don’t know no Edgar.”
On the spot, the man seemed to age another ten years, and shrink an inch or two as well. The look on his lined face, the hurt in those eyes—Tobei couldn’t stand it. This shitty meeting had been too much. He had to make it Right.
His mask snapped into place.
“Ay, grandpa,” his brilliant grin on full display, Tobei crossed over to the doorway to throw an arm around Edgar’s hunched, bony shoulders, “shake those worries off your shoulders. We’ll need them free so we can pile them with planks to build your own house. Your very own house.” Then he ducked down to stage-whisper in Edgar’s fuzzy ear. “And the ol’ gal’s memory ain’t what it once was, but I’d bet you’re up to the task of cleaning the cobwebs from between her ears, freshening it up like new, ay?”
Ever so slightly, that bit of hope perked Edgar up, even as Doll flipped Tobei off. Edgar looked up at Tobei and gave him a tiny, determined smile. Even punctuated it with a nod.
Intoxicating relief at being able to finally fix something flooded Tobei’s mind, and had words slipping off his tongue before he’d given them permission to leave.
“If y’all think my drink will help to fatten our haul in Urden, I’m happy to offer it up. I’ll load it into a wagon today and be back with what we need by nightfall. Just write me up a list.”
Kadie gave him a full, grateful smile like he was doing more than just pitifully and begrudgingly trying to clean up his own mess, and Tobei appreciated that. She said, “Take someone with you—to keep you on task.”
Tobei winked like it was no big deal. Like he wouldn’t be selling his barely-solid ground for pure quicksand. “I’d bet Sen’s up for the job.”
She just chuckled and shook her head.