They collected their fee from Captain Bagra at the South Gate -- one look at the huge piece of maginite, which could have only come from a truly gigantic monster, was all it took. "How the hell did you do it?" the man asked them, as he doled out the silver.

"Got lucky," Arai said gruffly.

He counted out forty silver coins. Arai gave seven of these to Shell, who looked up at him in awe. "Seven silvers," Arai said. "Isn't that what we agreed?"

"Yes, but...I didn't think you'd really..." She trailed off, frowning. "What are you going to do now? Will you stay in Kingsaile?"

He shook his head. "We're headed home, to Velon. We'll probably leave tomorrow."

"Velon?" Her frown deepened. She looked at the coins in her hand, looked up at him one more time, and then -- to Arai's surprise -- ran off without saying another word, her cloak fluttering behind her.

"What was that about?" Arai wondered.

"Better check your pockets," Lillandra suggested.

But she hadn't stolen anything this time; she had simply run off. Arai was a little disappointed at her sudden departure. "I didn't get a chance to thank her for her help."

"You paid her off, didn't you? She got what she wanted."

"She seemed like a good kid."

"She broke into our room, stole our money, and probably would have left us to die in the Dwellmer if those fish-things hadn't showed up and ruined her plans."

"Nobody's perfect. Now, let's go see how far forty silvers will take us in Kingsaile."

* * *

They spent the rest of the day shopping. Arai bought a new set of clothes for himself and a new pair of boots for Lillandra, and they ended the day with a nice meal in a respectable tavern. They also visited a stableman and inquired about purchasing a horse, but the man wanted fifteen gold for the oldest, most worn-out nag in his stable, and he assured them that they would not find a lower price anywhere in Kingsaile. For now, Arai reluctantly concluded, they were going to have rely on carriages and farmer's wagons, or simply walk, as they continued their journey to Velon.

Lillandra's mood improved after he bought her the boots -- her old boots were totally worn out -- but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get her to thank him for them. "They're nice," was all she would say.

He wondered why he had bought them at all. What did her comfort matter to him? Walking a thousand miles on her bare feet was a good start, but she deserved much worse for conquering Velon and overthrowing its king.

He sometimes forgot who she was, and what she was.

He studied her as she ate her meal, trying to find the truth in her face. Was she really a teenage girl? Or was she a hundred-year-old sorceress? Suddenly curious, he asked her, "Where are you from, Lillandra?"

"What?" She looked up at him, looking a little annoyed.

"I asked you where you from. You're Velonese, aren't you? Were you born in Hammersvik? Harbor Town?"

She shook her head. "I was born in a little village in the Hardways."

The Hardway was the hill country situated at the foot of the Frozen Mountains. It was a harsh, unforgiving land, subject to cruel winters and the depredations of the barbarian Al'mud, who frequently came out of the mountains to raid farms and villages. It was a hard land, and it bred hard people, hence the name; many of the soldiers in Arai's father's mercenary company had come out of the Hardways.

It was strange to think that the mighty Night Queen had been born in that hardscrabble hill country. He had never given much thought to her origin, but he had always assumed that she had belonged to the nobility.

"What was this village called? Maybe I've been there."

"It was very small. I don't think it ever had a name. And I'm sure you've never been there; there's nothing left of it now."

"The Al'mud?"

"No," she said flatly.

She obviously had no desire to elaborate on this, so Arai tried a different tack. "What about your parents? Who were they?"

"I don't want to talk about this."

"Why not? Where's the harm?"

"Why are you so interested?"

He looked at her intently. "I'm curious. All my life I've heard stories about you, stories about your cruelty and wickedness. I told you before that I don't think you're a monster, but that you're more complicated than that. I want to know more."

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

"You want to know about my parents?" She snorted. "I never knew them. My father left my mother before I was born, and my mother disappeared not long after that."

"Disappeared?"

"She went looking for him, I think, and never returned."

"So who raised you?"

"My grandmother. She was a minor sorceress. I learned the basics from her. But she died when I was nine, and I lived by myself after that, in her cabin, on the outskirts of the village. The villagers..." She stopped there, her eyes narrowing at some dredged-up memory. "They weren't kind to me."

"I see." She had clearly had a bad upbringing. That didn't excuse her actions, but it did give Arai a hint as to how she might have become the Night Queen.

"And what about you?" she asked.

He blinked. "What about me?"

"Where do you come from? Who were your parents? You've told me about your father, but..."

"Are you really interested?"

"Not particularly," she admitted.

He shrugged. "I was born on the border of Velon and the Holy Empire. My father's house was on the shore of the Tuv River. He was a master of the Three Waves school, and probably the greatest swordsman in the world. He founded the Steelmen when he was young and spent most of his life fighting mercenary wars in the Holy Empire, usually on behalf of Camarro and the Marquisates. I started to accompany him as soon as I was old enough to hold a sword."

"What about your mother?"

He frowned. "She died when I was young. I don't really remember her."

"Well, at least you had your father," she said. "I didn't have anyone."

"That must have been hard."

She looked at him sharply. "I don't need your pity."

"It wasn't pity."

"You're too soft," she complained. "A sad story is all it takes to get you to drop your guard."

"Are you saying were lying just now, about where you came from?"

"I'm saying," she said slowly, "that you can't trust anyone, and that going out of your way to help people, like that elf girl, is a good way to get yourself killed. Do you want to make it back to Velon or not?"

Arai sighed. He preferred to see the good in people, and to do right by them, as his father had taught him. It was stupid, perhaps, and naive, but these values were ingrained in him too deeply for him to try change them now.

They bought themselves a room at a nearby inn -- a much nicer inn than the first one they had stayed in -- and set out for the North Gate early the next morning. The sun was still low in the sky, its light limning the buildings and casting long shadows over the almost-empty streets.

To Arai's surprise, they found Shell waiting for them at the gate. She was wearing her cloak, but also a backpack, which she had slung over one shoulder. She grinned when she saw them.

Arai was puzzled. "Shell? What are you doing here?"

"I'm going with you," she said cheerfully.

He exchanged an uncertain glance with Lillandra. "What are you talking about? When you ran off yesterday--"

"I just went to get my stuff," she said, indicating her little backpack.

"You want to leave Kingsaile?" Lillandra asked.

"There's nothing for me here," she said, shaking her head at the city's skyline. "Not anymore. I don't have any friends or family. I've been on my own a long time."

"I'm sorry," Arai said, "but we're not really looking for traveling companions. It's thousands of miles to Velon, and it's sure to be a dangerous journey. I wouldn't like it if anything were to happen to you along the way."

"You think I'd be safer, living on the streets of Kingsaile?"

She had a point. "Not necessarily, but--"

"What do you know about Addis? About the people, and their customs? What do you know about the towns, the villages, the wildlife, the local cuisine? I can be your guide, just like I was in the Dwellmer. You need me."

Arai studied her. "Is this some kind of scam? Are you trying to take advantage of us again?"

"No! No, I'm not."

"Then why are you so anxious to accompany us? You know almost nothing about us."

"Well, I..." She bit her lower lip. "It's true I took advantage of you. But when you caught me, you didn't beat me, or turn me over to the guards, which is what almost anyone else would have done. You bought me a meal instead."

"And then you picked his pocket," Lillandra pointed out.

"I know," she said bleakly. "Old habits, you know? But you played fair with me anyway, after we got out of the Dwellmer. You didn't have to pay me those seven silvers." She looked up at Arai, her green eyes bright and shining. "You're the only person who's ever showed me any kindness. And you're interesting, both of you. I've never seen a swordsman as skilled as you, and you..." She turned her gaze to Lillandra. "You can do magic."

"She's trying to get her hands on the rest of our money," Lillandra muttered.

"I don't think so," Arai said. "I think she's sincere. And she's right -- we could use a guide, someone familiar with the local customs." He turned to her. "Can you read?"

She nodded. "Roggett taught me."

Arai set down his rucksack and pulled out the book he had bought, the one that contained the fold-out map -- Plint's Travels. He opened the book and showed her the map. "What can you tell me about this?"

She examined it. "Addis," she said, pointing it out. And then she started pointing out various countries and geographical features: "The Fallhorn Mountains. Addisport. Citias. Grand Skir. The Bay of Vandals. Galleus. Tax Trium. Demon's Rise. Tarnak." She squinted. "I don't see Velon on this map."

"It's somewhere over here," he said, his finger trailing off the page. "Beyond the Scarred Lands, the Queendom of Elent, and Arliel's Holy Empire." He looked at her carefully. "Now. Do you still want to go with us?"

She gave the map a long look. "Yes," she decided at last. "If you'll have me."

Arai glanced at Lillandra. "What do you think?"

She shrugged. "It's not up to me."

"And what if it were?"

"I'd probably leave her here," she admitted. "But she could be useful to us, if she really is sincere. She knows more about these lands than we do, and she does have some potential."

"Magical potential?"

"I didn't notice it before," she said. "Maybe because she's an elf. But there is some magia eddying around her. I could teach her a few things."

"You could teach me to do magic?" she exclaimed, her eyes wide.

"It's not easy," she warned.

"Nothing about this will be easy," Arai added. "And I'm not sure I entirely trust you yet. But very well. If you want to come with us--"

"Yes!" she cried. "Oh, thank you! I promise you won't regret this!" She looked at both of them in turn and said, "Well, what are waiting for? Let's get going!" And she began skipping ahead, toward the city gates, humming happily to herself.

Arai smiled. "Kindness," he said to Lillandra. "See where it gets you?"

She responded to that in her usual way, with a contemptuous snort, but then added, "But on the other hand, she is kind of cute."