“Kesla, come on, you need to think about this!” Krakka’s really having to trot along to keep up with her, she’s just walking but her powerful, long-legged strides are so big, and she’s so determined right now, I’m having to scramble to keep up with her too. “You’re not thinking straight, you can’t make major decisions like this while you’re angry!”

“I’m not angry, Krakka.” Her voice is scary level, about as flat as it’s capable of getting, and that’s never a good sign. She can be the Queen of Calm most o’ the time, but there’s always some emotion in there, even when she’s chill. It’s when she becomes truly monotone that you gotta worry. “I’m actually extremely calm. I’m just concerned. Extremely concerned that two of our friends are really messed up, one of ‘em might be about to die, which is becoming a frustratingly regular occurrence for me, while another one is just gone. Gael is gone, Krakka. They got ‘em, you said as much yourself. Believe me, I am very concerned.”

“Yes, I understand that. I am as well, very concerned indeed. But I also know that flying off the handle like this is not going to help anyone.”

“Except that I can actually do something about at least one o’ those problems right now, can’t I?” Kesla shoves her way through the door and into the narrow, lamp-lit corridor beyond, seeming to know exactly where she’s going. My head’s still reeling from that ridiculously huge library, that was way bigger than it had any right to be, but in truth only a small part o’ my brain’s really thinking about that right now, I’m mostly too distracted to think straight right now anyway.

Gael is gone. When Krakka finished doing what he could fixing my shoulder on the spot he filled me in on the situation, and the panic set in. Whoever the fuck that was who attacked us has my friend. They were sent to kill us, and they had some monstrous fucker of a lizardman with ‘em, I saw that thing in action and he was fucking scary, I’m scared to death for my friend now. In my head I’m climbing the fucking walls. It’s even enough to distract me from the lingering ache in my shoulder …

To make it worse, both the dwarves are in the infirmary. Dumoli’s apparently already recovering, his wound was bad and if he’d bled much more it might have been a lot worse, but once they got him back to the healers here they were quickly able to turn things round for him. But he’s still gonna be laid up for a little while yet.

He wouldn’t let Krakka near him when we finally arrived, anyway, he made him go straight to Thel. When we got to her we saw why. Fuck … that was a mess. Kesla’d done what she could for her using her heard-earned and experience-sharpened field medicine training, but she was already at death’s door, all the bandages in the world would only have delayed things a little. That kinda wound … it was miracle enough she hadn’t died already. Then Krakka learned who’d done it …

Apparently it was the blade of a cleric of Corvina … yeah, the whole group got real quiet over that revelation. It’s a bit of a paradox – she was a cleric, they’re healers and protectors of the helpless, but they’re also warriors o’ their faith, fighting for an ideal, and this one’s cause is death. That blade might as well have been poisoned.

It took everything Krakka had just to keep her from slipping away on the spot. In the end all he could do was pull her back from the brink itself, anything more than that was beyond him and his beloved patron. Then Lady Naru just took hold of both the dwarves at once and ported right outta there, heading straight for the temple of Minerva while Tulen sent a message ahead to Shul to let her know what was coming in order to get everybody ready. That just left Brung behind with the rest of us, and he wouldn’t respond to any of us. He just sat there, staring into space, looking like hell himself even though, so far as I could tell, he just got battered about a bit.

Tulen ported the rest of us back in groups, but in the end Lady Naru insisted on going back herself for Big Man, since she knew if Tulen did it she’d be out of it for the next day afterwards. Apparently she damn near passed out herself, porting the golem to the Heaths, that’s almost two miles from the temple, I’m amazed it didn’t floor her on the spot. Doing it twice certainly took a lot out of her as it was, last I saw of her she was stretched out on one o’ the couches in the lounge sucking down her third cup of wine to battle one hell of a headache. I heard Big Man had to carry her in from the entrance hall himself, she was so out of it.

Not that we could really avoid it. Big Man volunteered to just walk back, but after everything else that’s happened tonight Kesla nixed that idea the moment it was out there, and I don’t blame her. Instead we had to take the chance of messing up one of our remaining mages.

Now we’re just … licking our wounds. Those of us who ain’t mending are more’n a little frazzled round the edges, I know I ain’t the only one who’s scared to death for Gael. It’s clear enough these people are working for Jammund, or Hontiresk if that is who Jammund’s working for, which means that, near as makes no difference, our young half-elf’s prob’ly in Vandryss’ hands now. That thought alone makes my skin crawl and my heart scream.

Kesla’s worst off though, clearly. Shay at least is trying focus herself on the task at hand, so last I saw of her she was settling down to clean and tend to her gear, armour and weapons included, to be ready for what’s sure to come next. Kesla … she’s just untethered right now. Which I know makes her dangerous.

Krakka turns my way now as we scurry along behind her, while Darwyn’s trailing along behind us, mostly just looking rattled, about as unsure as I ever seen her now. The cleric gives me a pleading side-eye, and I wince seeing it. He’s begging for help, but I can’t offer it up. Part o’ me’s already onboard for whatever Kesla’s about to do, long as there’s a sliver of hope it might help us get Gael back.

“Damn it.” he mutters under his breath, which just makes me cringe a little more, feeling like I betrayed him. Which I kinda have, under the circumstances.

Kesla shoves her way through the door at the other end o’ the corridor a little more forcefully than she perhaps needs to, and I just duck straight through after her while Krakka sucks a particularly disapproving breath in response before following me. I don’t even bother to check if Darwyn’s still coming. Truth is right now I don’t particularly care.

Beyond the door is a large, high ceilinged antechamber, with several doors lining the walls, each unmarked but more’n one with temple staff stood outside. As we enter one of ‘em snaps to attention, shuffling forward with a somewhat uncertain expression on his face. He’s dressed in the Order’s livery same as the rest, sword at his side marking him as a guard rather than an attendant, but otherwise he’s surprisingly unassuming. He raises a hand and starts to speak, but when he gets a look at our faces he falters before he can get it out.

“Oh, um … forgive, me, Mistress Shoon … um … do you have business –”

“Back off.” She says it level as everything else she has on the way here, and the very flatness is a razor’s edge, enough even for someone who don’t know her to pick up on. “I gotta talk to ‘im.”

“Perhaps you should wait. I fear you may be out of sorts –”

“I wouldn’t, mate.” I sigh, already feeling bad for this guy. “Trust me.”

Again, he opens his mouth, then looks up at Kesla’s unnervingly blank stare and shuts it. His eyes flicker to me, than to Krakka, and he visibly deflates. Given he’s barely two inches shorter than Kesla and about as heavy, it’s a little unnerving to see. Finally he steps aside, indicating the door. “Please, help yourself.” he sighs, sounding as unbelievably tired as the rest of us feel.

Giving him a long look, Kesla takes a breath and steps past him, reaching for the doorknob. There’s a moment when she twists it that it resists, like it’s locked tight, but then the door springs inwards and she shoves it open, stepping through almost more as a reflex, but she must’ve been expecting it since her expression don’t slip. Again I follow quick as I can, trusting the others to make up their own minds.

The room inside is, at best, a cell. Calling it minimalist would be over-generous – there’s literally just a low cot with a thin mattress clearly bolted to the wall, and a small metal commode in the corner, no seat on it, not even any paper for wiping. The walls are white and startlingly smooth, and there’s light coming from somewhere above, I can’t really tell what it is looking up, it’s just there. The room itself is startlingly tall, but otherwise somewhat cramped, can’t be more’n ten feet across and twelve long. And there’s only one occupant.

So this is the famous Vik. He don’t look like much, given what I heard – he’s older than I thought he’d be, and a little smaller too, even as he stands up Kesla seems significantly larger than him. Or maybe it’s just got something to do with her purpose, he looks strangely diminished compared to her. Apparently when he came in he was wearing an impressive set of leathers, but now he’s dressed in simple slacks and an oversized grey linen smock, bare of foot and arm. His left wrist significantly unmarked, I note.

He's also wearing a collar, wide and surprisingly thick, made of gleaming metal like a manacle with subtly glowing sigils engraved around the edges. Two more bands are fastened at both wrists. As we bundle up inside the doorway, he steps towards us, holding both hands out as if to display ‘em to us. “What the fuck is this shit? This some kinda freaky magic shit? Every time I try to get within two feet o’ the door I damn near pass out.”

Kesla don’t stop walking with the rest of us, instead just stepping right up to him as he approaches. He doesn’t clock the threat ‘til it’s right in his face, and by then it’s too late.

Her first punch knocks him straight down. Thankfully the bed was directly behind him so he just ends up sitting down on that, but he still drops hard.

“What the fuck –” Her second punch knocks him back hard enough his head bounces off the wall, but thankfully not hard enough to brain himself or worse, it just rattles him. “Fuck!” he yells, raising his hands now to fend her off, his mouth already bloody while his nose starts to gush. “What the hell is –"

She hits him again, just as hard, and this time he loses a couple teeth and squawks in shock. “Who are they?!” she screams in his face, grabbing a fistful of the front of his smock now to drag him out of his slump before punching him again. “Who THE FUCK are they?!”

“What … who?!” Vik tries to brush her off again but he’s clearly getting dizzy from the hits now, his coordination can’t manage shit now.

“The sellswords!” she screams in his face, punching him one more time before letting go so he slumps back against the wall, head lolling some as his nose keeps spurting and he spits a few more teeth. “The fucking sellswords who just tried to murder us all! Who the fuck are they?!”

“I don’t …” He coughs, spluttering a little as he spits out two more teeth … no, this time they’re just pieces of teeth, looks like. Ouch. “Fuck … you crazy bitch!”

Kesla grabs another handful of material to drag him back up, cocking her fist with a particularly savage look on her face now. “If you don’t answer me right now –”

“I don’t fucking know!” Vik splutters, eyes wide, clearly terrified now. “I swear I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about!”

Taking a big step back as she lets go again, Kesla draws herself up to her full height and raises both hands, brushing them back through her hair and yanks hard on what’s between her fingers. A little harder and she might even start tearing chunks out, looks like. She sucks a deep breath in through her teeth, and turns back to us, looking genuinely lost now.

Krakka just glares up at her, arms folded tight across his barrel chest, looking thoroughly done with her shit now. “Satisfied? You did all that for precisely nothing.”

Narrowing her eyes, Kesla glares right back, her lips drawn thin now. “You think? I don’t need a fucking lecture right now.” Without waiting for a reply, she just shoves right past him and me and Darwyn barely have time to scramble aside to let her through after.

Vik just coughs as he tries to sit up and fails miserably, pawing at his mangled face, already starting to darken and swell. “Crazy fucking bitch …”

“You wanna have a crack at fixing that?” I offer up to the tengu cleric with heavy sarcasm, who immediately gives me an even dirtier side-eye. Shrugging, I just turn back to head out.

Finding Tulen stood in the open doorway stops me short, more so the way she’s just looking at Vik sprawled on the bed, visibly shocked by his condition. For moment her mouth works on its own, like she’s trying to find words but none are forthcoming. Finally she spits out: “What … what just …”

“Don’t ask.” I lay a very gentle hand in the small of her back and press subtly in order to guide her back outside along with me. “Believe me, it won’t help.”

“Yeslee.” she mutters, mostly under her breath, as she allows herself to be directed back into the larger room beyond.

“What?” Kesla rounds on her. “What’d you say?”

“I talked to Yeslee.” She blinks a few times, and finally seems to come back to herself.

“Where … how … she took off, I thought …” Kesla frowns at me, seeming a little lost in the conversation along with me. From what I remember, she snuck off not long after we ported into that mess, but clearly with a purpose. Honestly I just thought she’d gone to look for Thel and her friends.

“She said she followed some of them.” She turns to me, looking a little uncertain now “The two you and Shay first encountered? I don’t really understand what she meant –”

“The halfling and the imori.” I say to Kesla as her frown deepens. I don’t think she encountered them herself, the impression I get is she ran into some different members of this mysterious group. I shrug. “They … I dunno. They both took some pretty nasty hits, the lizardman ‘specially. I’m amazed Krakka didn’t kill ‘im.”

“My swing might have been a little sub-par after he hit me.” he growls, still looking significantly pissed. “It rather threw me off my game.”

“Okay.” Kesla practically snarls, eyes closed now and teeth gritted as she shoves her hands back through her hair again. “Okay. Back to the subject in question?”

Blinking, Tulen looks round at us all, then seems to catch her meaning. “Oh … yes. Sorry. Um … yes, anyway, when I contacted her, Yeslee said they left. The imori was … not in good shape, it seems. But the halfling had mostly shaken it off, she said. They, um … it seems they had a plan, apparently. An escape plan?”

Cocking a brow, Kesla looks my way, and I just shrug in response. “Yeah, reckon that makes sense.”

“Course it does.” She turns to Tulen again. “What was it?”

“A boat? She said they had one waiting, on the canal, outside the Drumhalt. She followed them using the rooftops, they took it all the way to the river, then down to the docks. She said they went to a warehouse down there, on the wharves.”

That just makes me frown, so I turn to Kesla again, but she’s just looking down at Krakka, who’s simply cocking a brow back at her. “Well shit … guess that makes sense, too.”

“What d’you mean?” I really don’t have time for this shit, I’m too bloody anxious right now. “C’mon boss, what the hell?”

“A warehouse, on the wharves.” She turns to Tulen. “Hardward, up on First Point, right?”

She blinks again. “How did you –”

Kesla grins, which takes me by surprise, and reaches out to give her shoulder a good squeeze. “Luck. Sheer fucking luck. Reckon we’re gonna be all right. Now we just gotta get on it.”

As she starts walking gain, heading back the way we came, the rest of us all scramble to catch up. As we head into the corridor again, Krakka’s still frowning. “We’re sure about that though? That it’s not just a coincidence?”

“It’s a bit too specific, ain’t it?”

“Yeah, but still –”

“We got a next step. Means we can go after Gael. So it’s time to shake the others up, get ready to head out again. Just one more detail to take care of in the meantime.”

“What detail?” Krakka stop where he is throwing up his arms in clear frustration. He’s usually so stoic, it’s disconcerting to see him this worked up. “Kesla –”

“Something that’s been bothering me since before we got back, that I gotta deal with.” She stops and spins round, and next thing I know she’s lunged right past me, grabbing hold of Darwyn before she can even react and swinging her up off her feet.

“Hey, what the fuck are you –” The halfling’s cut off with a gasp, instantly winded when Kesla slams her into the wall, pinning her seven feet off the floor with her fingers digging into her arms like claws. “Wait, what –”

“Shut up!” Kesla leans in close, really snarling her words, and her face is enough to silence her all on its own. “I’m talking right now, when I want you to do it, I will say so. So just nod if you understand me.”

Darwyn’s eyes are very wide indeed, she looks damn near scared to death. She knows full well that she ain’t got a hope in this fight. Finally she nods.

Letting up a little bit, Kesla lowers her just enough to lean even closer, ‘til their noses are almost touching. “Good. I am not going to let you dodge this anymore, Darwyn. We’re gonna have this out right now. What the fuck were you doing in the Drumhalt?”

For a long beat she doesn’t answer, her eyes flickering down to me, and they’re beseeching again. “Art, please, I –”

“Fucking answer her, Dar.” I growl back, not even trying to go easy on her. Right now I couldn’t if I tried, half o’ me’s fucking anxious and the other’s just starting to get pissed off again. “Now. She won’t ask again, an’ you ain’t got a friend here right now.”

“No.” Darwyn cranes her neck forward far as she can, since she clearly can’t lean in right now, and fixes Kesla with that same stubborn glare I know so well. “No, I’m not gonna do that. Fuck you both.”

“You don’t have a bloody choice in this, you silly little bitch.” Kesla’s voice is growing soft again, which is a bad sign. “Just tell me.”

“I already told you, go fuck yourself. I ain’t saying it. Not to him. Not now.” She tips her head back, breathing a heavy sigh. “Fuck … I’ll show you.” She looks back at Kesla again, resolute now. “But then that’s the end of it. I want your word.”

“All right. You got it.” Kesla shrugs, and then lets go, and Darwyn has to catch herself, a little clumsy in her landing she’s so taken by surprise. She gives Kesla a pretty dirty look as she gathers her composure, taking a somewhat rattled breath.

“Let’s go, then.” Turning to crane up at Tulen, she offers up a hand, reaching out to Kesla too. “You can home in on where I wanna go, right? I heard that’s something you lot can do.”

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Blinking again, Tulen looks at Kesla as she steps up and reaches down to grip the offered hand. “Um … yeah, kind of. It’s a little trickier than that, but –”

“Fine. Do that.”

Tulen frowns and gives Kesla a pointed look, but my friend just rolls her eyes and shrugs. Then she reaches out to me, and Darwyn frowns, her face darkening considerably.

“No, wait … I told you, no way I’m letting him come too. That’s a deal breaker.”

“Then break it.” Kesla gazes down at her, stalwart as ever, and I already know which one’s gonna break first in this staring contest. “He’s coming, or you can go in one o’ those cells and that’s that. I can’t trust you.”

Pouting, Darwyn genuinely looks to be considering the options, and I honestly don’t know which way she’ll go. I genuinely wouldn’t put it past her to pick the cell just to spite her, and me along with her. Then she breathes out a frustrated hiss and focuses on the floor as she growls: “Fuck … fine. You win.”

“You’re sure about this?” Krakka sighs, looking deeply uncertain now.

“It’s either this or I lock ‘er up on principle, and we need the bodies.” Kesla shrugs again, looking tired now. “When we’re gone, let Shay know what the plan is. Find out if Lady Naru’s feeling well enough to join us, tell her we might find Darion too if we hit it quick. And try and shake some sense into Brung too. We’re definitely gonna need him.”

Nodding, Krakka steps back and leans into the wall. “Just be careful.”

“I’ll try my best.” she sighs, turning to Tulen again. “You good?”

Looking down at Darwyn, then at me, she sighs as well, finally shrugging. “I’ll have to be. Just prepare yourself. This might be rough.” She looks at Darwyn again. “Concentrate on where you want to go. If it works, I’ll get a better read on where we’re heading that way.”

As Darwyn nods, I close my eyes and take a deep breath, going through the drill even as I lament the fact I’m getting a little sick of all this porting. Then Tulen says that strange sense-word and everything turns upside down around us, and through us, while Kesla squeezes my hand a little tighter and I return the favour purely by reflex.

When we settle it’s on pretty level ground, and there’s something quite familiar about these cobblestones, so while my head’s spinning a little from the transit and I still feel a touch queasy from the jump, somehow it don’t make me quite so anxious this time. I let the breath go and slowly open my eyes … and I know this place, I been through here a fair few times in the past, it’s really familiar territory. We’re in the Drumhalt all right, not far at all from where we just were actually, and the thought o’ that sets my shoulder aching some again, but then it don’t surprise me. Krakka ain’t had the chance to fix the wound entirely yet, so …

“Oh …” Darwyn’s doubled over, looking pretty miserable as she rests her hands on her knees like she’s ready to empty her stomach, breathing heavy now. “I hate that.”

“Yeah, it ain’t fun.” Kesla clears her throat, and it’s a rough sound, clearly she ain’t too comfortable herself as she looks round the narrow, shady street we’re in, pretty quiet now, but then it’s that time o’ night an this clearly ain’t a thoroughfare. We seem to be alone. “Okay … so are we there, then?” She turns back to the halfling. “Where we need to be?”

Gulping in a big swallow of air, Darwyn raises her head and gives it a little twitch, flipping her hair out her eyes to look round. “Um … yeah, this is it. Just through there.”

She’s pointing into a cul-de-sac a little way down on the left, a short flight o’ worn steps cutting between two buildings dropping into it. I can sort of make it out from this oblique angle, essentially a roughly circular courtyard surrounded by three storey townhouses, a few o’ the windows lamplit but most dark. I suspect it ain’t too late that a fair few residents are still in the pubs drinking after their shifts, or those who work nights have set out to start their own. It’s like pretty much any other place to grow up in the Drumhalt – cold, battered, worn stone and rusty iron, with no real nature to speak of besides moss and rats and other vermin. Honestly, it feels homely to me.

“Good.” Kesla checks her gear over and steps a little closer, giving it a good hard look over. “All right then. After you.”

Darwyn frowns now, giving her a look. “You still don’t trust me?”

“Reckon that oughtta be clear by now.” She shrugs, gesturing for her to go on. “Consider it a chance to earn some back.”

Narrowing her eyes, Darwyn tightens her jaw, and for a moment I think she might snap something at her, but she holds her tongue. Finally she gives me a good glare and takes a step forward, then stops and turns back to Kesla again. “Just so we’re clear, he is only here on sufferance. He ain’t welcome where we’re going.”

As she starts for the stairs, Kesla frowns a little too, looking across at me now. “Just keep an eye out.” Now to Tulen, who’s just stood by looking particularly uncomfortable as she observes her surroundings. “You especially. You’re the closest thing we got to a magic sensor right now. I want you sharp.”

“Oh … um … of course.” Tulen grasps the hilt of her sword now, while her other hand reaches into her robe to check her wand, tucked snug in its holster. Then she takes a tentative step forward as well.

I just flex my claws and start walking, brushing past the two of ‘em gently as I can so I can get behind Darwyn. Ain’t that I really don’t trust her right now, it’s just that … well, after what just happened, reckon maybe I don’t. Or maybe it’s just that I cannot stop working my nerves about Gael. What they done to ‘em, where they are, if they’re hurt, or worse. Might be it’s got me projecting right now, but … I know I ain’t in a good place in my head right now.

Nothing jumps out on us when we reach the bottom of the steps and step out into the courtyard proper. I can’t smell anything beyond the normal detritus of human existence, regular trash and worn scent-trails of regular passage over days, months, years. Kids play here too, I can tell, partly from their comparatively cleaner, more vital smell but mostly just the crudely drawn iconography of games on the broken, haphazardly laid flagstones and cobbles making up the yard floor. Simple grids for hopscotch, and ball games, and other makeshift diversions. Clearly this is a lively place during the day, at least.

Darwyn leads us in a direct straight line right across the courtyard, and from the trail I can smell as I follow her it’s clear this is a route she takes on a regular basis. Well that’s interesting … I turn to give Kesla a look, and when she sees my expression she cocks a brow down at me, quizzical, but don’t ask anything. I just shrug in response, but offer up a tentative smile too. Maybe this is something else to what we think it is.

Finally she steps up the narrow, somewhat misshapen three-step stoop to the corresponding door at the end of this unseen path, then pauses for a moment before reaching into one of her pockets and fishing for a moment. Finally she produces a bunch of keys and sorts through for a beat before selecting one and unlocking the door with it, then ducks through leaving it open in obvious invitation. Not bothering to wait for Kesla’s permission, I step in after.

It's somewhat gloomy inside, but there’s light coming through a small, dirty window at the far end of the narrow, crooked corridor, and I can see perfectly well anyway. The place is a whole riotous mix of different scents, I couldn’t sort through ‘em if I tried, but there’s nothing untoward, and one or two traces even seem vaguely familiar, even if I can’t place ‘em. Huh … well that’s strange … after a beat I realise I can smell Cobb in the mix as well as Darwyn. That’s real interesting.

“You comin’ or what?” Darwyn hisses at me a little further down, and I realise she’s waiting by the stairs, leading up. I bite off the retort that wants to come and just set my jaw again, continuing after her as she starts climbing.

After reaching the first floor she steps off into another corridor and heads a little way down before stopping at a door on the right. Now she looks real reluctant, and after a moment I realise she’s actually shaking, but it ain’t fear, more … hell, I dunno what this emotion is, actually. When she looks up at me her eyes are wide, and she opens her mouth like she wants to speak but don’t follow through, instead just frowning again and letting out a heavy sigh. “Fuck … all right. Just …” She turns back and glares at me now, but her words now are barely a hissing whisper. “Do not say a fucking word, clear?”

“Um … yeah. Sure.” I nod, a little more enthusiastic than I should, perhaps, but I don’t think she really notices now. She seems all kinds of nervous, I see. It should put me on edge again, but … I dunno, somehow it feels perfectly safe right now. I can’t explain it.

She doesn’t fish her keys out again this time, instead she just takes a deep breath as if to steel herself, and reaches up to knock three times on the door. Then she shifts on her feet, a couple times, and smooths her clothes down, proper fidgeting in fact. Eyes locked on the door as she waits.

After a few more moments I hear someone approaching on the other side, casual sounding footfalls on creaky floorboards, and maybe that same someone speaking to somebody else as they approach. I can’t make out what’s said, but the tone is clear enough, they seem relaxed. Happy, even. Another good sign, then.

When they stop just on the other side there’s a short pause before whoever it is calls through the door: “Hello? Who is it, please?” The voice, albeit a little muffled still, sounds … gods, I think I know that voice. Is that …

“Toyah, it’s me. Can you let us in?” Darwyn turns again and gives all of us a pointed look now. Seems that warning’s been extended to the group as a whole, now.

“Us? You got Cobb with you?” The woman on the other side almost sounds like she’s laughing the words a little, and now I’m sure I recognise the voice.

“No, it ain’t …” She lets another heavy sigh go, frustrated now, I reckon. “Look, it’s all right, everything’s fine, I promise. Just open up.”

For a long moment nothing happens, and I wonder if maybe the woman on the other side might not open the door after all, maybe they’re just too suspicious now after what she said or how she said it … then I hear chains shifting and locks turning inside, before a bolt is finally pulled and the door opens with a great crack and slow, slightly juddery creak. It opens a foot, then stops on a length of security chain, and a face appears about halfway up the gap.

I knew I knew that voice. On the other side is a dwarf woman, but very different from Thel. This one’s definitely not a muscular type, ‘least nowhere near so much as the young warrior, much more cuddly, all soft and round and devoid of corners, and very pretty too. She’s a good deal paler too, her chubby cheeks rosy under her fine, downy golden blonde fluff of a beard, but her full, bowed lips are rosier still. She’s grown her hair in since I saw her last, I see, now bound into a thick, loosely woven plait that hangs over her shoulder while curly errant locks hang around her face, and as she looks us over her striking pale green eyes dance with a somewhat mischievous light. She’s dressed in simple yet colourful day-to-day Untermer clothes, a jovial-looking dress of wool and linen and a light, ruffled blouse that shows off a lot less cleavage than I remember from when she was younger. Well, younger than she is now, anyway.

When she looks us over, she’s wary at first, especially when she sees Kesla, her eyes going a little wide at the six-foot-plus warrior woman in half-plate stood outside her door, but then she sees me, and she goes very still indeed. For a moment she seems genuinely shocked, but then a tentative smile starts to form, and that sparkle returns to her eyes. “Well I’ll be … oh my gods, it’s … hello there, stranger.”

“Hey, Toyah. Long time no see.”

Her brows twitch up at that, and she starts to laugh. “Is that … that’s it after five bloody years, you daft bastard?” She quickly frees the chain drags the door the rest of the way open and stalks out, her big bare feet thumping across the boards as she marches right up to me. I don’t stand a chance as she drags me into a big, tight hug and all I can do is let her.

I’m a whole foot taller than her, but she still crushes me, like she always does. She may be soft and plush, more fat than muscle, but she’s still a dwarf, so she’s still powerful, and as she gives my trunk a good tight squeeze I still feel my ribs compress. I gasp and I wheeze and I love every second of it as I return the tightest one I can manage, but can’t even try to match her strength. Finally I pat her on the back to let her know I want out and she relents, and I gasp again as I’m able to start breathing again. “Oh … gods, that’s still intense … oh, but it’s good to see you too. I’ve really missed you.”

“Yeah, I bet you have, you incorrigible little lothario.” She reaches up and gives my cheek a good pinch, her smile becoming rueful now. “I bet you’ve left a trail o’ heartbroke living wreckage across half o’ Rundao since you been gone. Or am I wrong?” She looks past me, likely regarding Kesla and Tulen again. “One o’ these intriguing young ladies made you honest, maybe?”

When I turn round I find Kesla’s really having to work hard to control her laughter, and ultimately failing. “Oh … oh fuck, no! Freya no. He is really not my type. Like, at all.”

Tulen, meanwhile, is blushing up a storm, I realise, her cheeks about as dark as I seen ’em get since I met her, and she licks her lips in deep discomfort, although she don’t really seem actually put off by the idea, which might give me hope. Under different circumstances, or at a different time, maybe. “Nor me. Um … I’m sorry, I mean … I am somewhat spoken for already, in a manner of speaking. Um …”

“I see.” Toyah rolls her eyes a little as she turns back to me, grinning now. “Same old Art, then. You never change.” She takes a step back and gestures for us to follow as she pushes the door open that last foot so there’s room for everyone to come through as she steps back across her threshold. “Come in, all o’ you. I got some stew on the stove if anybody’s hungry, should be about ready now. Plenty to go round, I always cook enough for a few days’ leftovers.”

“That sounds … lovely, actually.” Kesla’s got her laughter under control now, but she’s still grinning with clear mirth now as she shoves right past me. “It’s been a long day, an’ I’m starved.”

“Perfect!” Toyah strides off across the main room of the apartment, then pauses and turns back, cocking her head with a more quizzical look on her face as she looks at the rest of us. “Ah, yes. Anyone else?”

“Yes!” Tulen smiles now, a little sheepish but an improvement all the same. “Please. Stew sounds lovely. Whatever’s in it.”

“Veggies, an’ meat, o’ course.” Toyah chuckles “That’s how stew usually works. Dar? Art? You hungry?”

“Not right now, I’m sorry. Maybe later.” Darwyn’s casting about the room now, her nerves clearly still working at her.

When she turns to me I kinda blank for a moment, then I remember myself, and at the same time everything else. That’s right, we’re here on specific business, but I wasn’t expecting this. But this can’t be the reason Dar didn’t want me to come, she knows I’d be thrilled to see Toyah again. Something else is up.

And then I remember what else is going on again and … yeah, soon as Gael pops back into my head again I know I couldn’t keep anything down right now, it’s too much stress the way I’m all wound up. So I shake my head but try to keep my best face on all the same. “I’ll bow out too, to be honest. But maybe later, like she said.”

For a moment Toyah’s light-hearted mood seems to shift as she looks us both over, but she recovers quick. “Fair enough. It’ll keep, if you change your minds just let me know.” She gives Kesla and Tulen a fond wink and continues on the route she was previously taking, moving with a jovial spring in her step that I recognise with great fondness.

“She seems nice.” Kesla’s watching me now when I turn back, and while she’s smiling there’s an edge to it, partly curiosity, mostly expectant.

“Toyahlin Strongfall.” I chance a quick glance at Darwyn, who’s still stood by the now closed door, arms folded tight across her chest, looking at the floor. “She was our best friend when we were growing up, outside o’ the Guild kids. She’s a hedge wizard, works freelance for Cobb on occasion. Guess Dar was telling the truth about having somebody to come to to get through to ‘im.”

“Ah.” Kesla nods, shuffling her feet now as she starts to look round. “Okay, then.”

It’s a nice place, if small and somewhat poky like most places in the poorer quarters of Untermer, but here in the Drumhalt in particular, where folk are packed in like sardines. But clearly Toyah’s made a real effort to make this a pleasant, comfy, cosy place to live in, which don’t surprise me at all, she was always a real practical homebody, it was always something I really admired about her.

The walls are painted in warm colours, and surprisingly striking actually, patterned in swirling spirals and waves, while there are tiny handprints dotted around in various places in darker colours, along with a few much larger ones which are clearly Toyah’s own. As I look round the room, which has been furnished mostly with big woollen cushions and bundled blankets rather than seating, save for a small table and two similarly squat wooden chairs in the corner, I see other interesting signs too. There are toys scattered about on the floor, mostly makeshift plush animals sewn from frayed cotton and worn corduroy, but there are colourful building bricks and little carved wooden figures too. Most striking, though, are the colourful and simplistic daubed paintings pasted in various spots on the walls with a haphazard sense of pride. Clearly a child lives here too.

“Toyah’s a ma?” I venture after a moment, turning back to Darwyn now. Her reluctance to have us just show up like this is making a bit more sense to me now.

She stares at me for a long moment, eyes narrow and her face still so dark, and I don’t know what that’s about at all, it just don’t feel like the old hostility this time, it’s so much more complicated. I don’t understand it at all. “No. No, she’s not her daughter.”

That has me frowning too, genuinely confused now, and when I look at Kesla and Tulen I realise they’re listening closely too. Tulen seems as thrown as I am, but Kesla’s expression is a whole lot more complex, like she’s already working things out. “I … I don’t get it, then what are you –”

“Mama! Mama, you’re back!” The aforementioned child emerges through the doorway in a great explosion of effervescent energy and pounds directly to Darwyn at a full run, jumping on her even as the halfling’s still readying herself. She just manages to steady herself and open her arms as she’s enveloped, and it’s a strange sight to witness, really. And fucking sobering for me …

Five years … that’d make her a little over four years old, cuz when I left Dar weren’t showing yet. Oh gods … I wish she’d just told me. My head’s spinning like crazy now, and I couldn’t speak if I tried.

She’s already tall as her mother, but then bakaneko grow up fast, by the time I was eight I’d already reached my full height and was well on the way to physical maturity, I’d finished growing entirely by my tenth birthday. After that it was largely just having to finish growing up in my head, and gods know that took a lot longer. So when she hugs her mother with such enthusiasm Darwyn really has to brace herself so she ain’t just knocked down, and they wobble about for a moment cuz our little girl clearly has so much energy.

Of course. I thought those little handprints looked a bit odd, I realise it’s cuz there were only four chubby little fingerprints to each. More like extra-dextrous feline pawprints than tiny dwarf hands. Maybe that should’ve been my first warning.

I’m already dropping to my knees, I can’t help it. I wanna be at the right height when I meet my daughter.

“You said you weren’t gonna be back tonight! You’re early! Are you okay?”

“Well enough, luv, I promise.” Darwyn places both hands on either one of her cheeks as they break their hug, giving her child the fondest look I ever seen from her, she never looked at me so sweet when we were together, it’s a little jarring. “It’s just … something came up, and then … well, I had a reason to come back. Um … Vanna, look … I have to … I want to … um …” She’s faltering now, her gaze flickering to me as her words fail her, and she almost looks confused now, she don’t know what to do now the moment’s come.

Vanna turns now, sensing her mother’s disquiet and following her gaze, and she looks right at me now, so I get my first proper look at my daughter and … Freya, she’s beautiful.

In the end she looks more like me than her ma, so much cat is showing through, from her thick patches of fine, fluffy soft silvery grey fur striped with black, to her big, broad dark ears, proper standing to attention right now. She even has a slight muzzle to her face, as well as big oversized paws she’ll take at least another five years to really grow into if my own childhood is an indicator. She even has a tail, just as long and unruly as mine the way it just whips about with a clear mind of its own. Most striking, though, are her eyes, big and bright green like my own, although there’s more whites to ‘em, and her pupils are rounder.

But there’s still a lot o’ her mother in the mix too. There’s still enough of a halfling in her face she obviously ain’t pure bakaneko, with true, soft lips and bare patches of skin which the fur almost seems to line rather than cover. So while she has the same dark, rough pad on the tip o’ her nose, she also has sideburns but otherwise her features are bare, and there’s a broad line of clean skin from her chin leading down under her collar. Most of all, though, instead o’ just thicker, shaggier patches of unkempt fur forming a rough mane like I got, she has a full head of actual auburn locks, cut in a jaw-length bob that’s a good deal more unruly than her ma’s. In the end it’s a very striking appearance indeed, and while it’s deeply unusual I know when she grows up my little girl’s gonna break some hearts.

She’s dressed in a simple Untermer style orange linen smock and a small pair of loose, baggy wool britches, her pawed feet bare on the scattered, haphazard open-weave wool rugs. As she catches sight o’ me she becomes very still, her eyes widening a little more, and they were already big to begin with, so it’s a very intense regard. Her smile fades, but it’s replaced by a cautious curiosity. “Oh … hello. Hi. I’m Vanna.”

For a long moment I’m lost, trying to find something to reply with, my throat feels so thick right now I ain’t sure I could get any words out right now. Finally I just clear it and manage to slip out with: “Hello there … Vanna, I’m Art. Art of Shadows. It’s so wonderful to meet you.”

After a long, pregnant beat she takes a step towards me, and her smile starts to return, but very tentatively. “Are you from the Guild? You dress like one o’ the folk mama works with. Like Uncle Cobb. You’re a …” She starts to frown, turning back to her mother. “Um … mama, he’s … he’s like me. He’s a … y’know, what you called it, a bakaneko?”

Darwyn’s lip’s wobbling, and I see now how wet her eyes are. She reaches up, but don’t quite cover her mouth, stopping just short as she tries to find the words. “Yeah … he is. Um … Vanna, sweetheart … this is … this is your father. Art. He’s your da.”

Vanna turns back to me now, and her frown deepens as she looks me over, her eyes sharper, more questing as they search my face. Then she takes a few more hesitant steps towards me, pauses, still seeming unsure, before finally taking those last two steps and reaching up. I start to reach out too but she shies a little, and I stop dead, trying not to wince as I do it but I ain’t quite sure I succeed. My heart’s in my mouth now, I don’t wanna spook her, I need this connection so badly. So I just keep very still, my own hands still up, and just wait for her to make the first move.

After another painful long moment’s pause, she starts to reach out again, and very slowly pressed her paws to mine, and I just let my fingers slowly open so she can do the same. She looks from one to the other over and over again, just comparing her paws to mine, and her eyes are widening again, her frown evaporating. Ever so slowly her tongue starts to poke out, a very feline thing I know I do myself on occasion without meaning to, and after a long beat her eyes turn back up to look at my face. Into my eyes and she starts to smile again. Tentative still, but it’s warmer than before.

“Hi.” she finally says, and I realise now that she’s purring, noticing in the same moment that her pupils are starting to dilate now.

My throat just gets thicker, and I can feel my eyes getting hot, tears threatening to come now, so I barely manage to choke out a response. “Hi. Hi there. Hello. Oh my … hello Vanna. I’m … I’m sorry I been gone so long –”

She springs on me as quick and sudden as she did her mother, just jumping between my arms and wrapping her own round my neck as she starts to crush me the best she can, and while I freeze for a charged moment I start to melt almost immediately after. I wrap her up in my own arms and crush her tight as I dare, nowhere near sure yet how strong she actually is even as I feel her hugging me with all her might.

I’m weeping now, I can’t help it, but when I look up at Darwyn I see that she’s doing the same, hands fully over her mouth now, but I can still see that her eyes are smiling too, even though they look so sad too. I’m starting to think maybe she doesn’t regret this final decision to tell me after all.

When I look at my friends I see Tulen’s smiling, but with her lip wobbling badly, and she has tears streaming down her cheeks too as she hugs her arms tight across her chest, mostly just as a self-protective gesture now. ‘Least Kesla’s got enough control of herself not to cry too, but she’s smiling all the same, stepping up to the dragonhalf’s side so she can wrap her arm round her shoulders and give her a good, firm squeeze.

I just tighten my own hug a little more, still careful but willing to bet my daughter’s probably a little tougher than she looks, and tilt my head to rest against hers. I close my eyes and let myself go, just enjoying the moment now. A chance for a little relief in the midst of all this worrying chaos, now I got a little hope to hold onto …