Talltop was reminiscent of the tree-borne bandit encampment, but on a completely different scale. The trees that held up the town were of a kind Will had never seen or even heard of, with trunks as wide as houses. They stood so tall that he had to crane his neck all the way back to glimpse their emerald crowns.

They were called longfather trees according to Pigeon. Apparently, they had stood since before even the goddess arrived on Nifala, let alone humans. Looking up at their gnarled trunks, with its bark that resembles the rough, leathery skin of an wizened oldster, Will could believe it.

The twenty or so longfather trees towered so high above the surrounding beech forest that they were a landmark for many kilometers around. They had dominated the horizon well before the group had gotten anywhere near them.

Rope pulleys with large wooden lifts allowed access between the ground and the settlement high overhead. Wide platforms reinforced by struts held clusters of buildings, and some structures were cut out of the trees themselves, the trunks studded with window shutters in red and blue and yellow.

Entire wagons were admitted onto the lifts and deposited onto their own layer some ten meters below the residential one, where they would be away from the danger of the forest floor.

The group approached the nearest lift. There was a fee to enter Talltop, collected by an Entertainer swinging from one of the ropes holding up the contraption. A hundred graces per visitor.

Not cheap.

Then again, travelers didn’t have much choice other than to stop at Talltop, and its citizenry knew it.

Pigeon paid for herself, and Will covered the rest of them. They all went on board the lift, which felt sturdy enough underfoot, but there was nothing to hold onto other than the ropes themselves, one at each corner.

The attendant gave his rope a sharp tug, and a few moments later they lurched into motion, ropes creaking as they ascended up off the ground, everything below rapidly shrinking.

Will kept his eyes shut for most of the ascent. He had already not been fond of the bandit encampment, and Talltop was more than twice as high up. It was difficult to isolate himself from the cold dread, however. He was inescapably aware of Bee enjoying the ride and admiring the view, hanging off one of the ropes in as daring a fashion as the attendant.

I need to vomit.

And he did just that almost as soon as they got to the top. He bent double and chucked up the beige slurry that had been breakfast over the side of the platform, caught by the wind as it rained down. At least there was a railing there for him to hold onto, and from what he could say it was the same with all the other platforms in the town proper.

“We stay here for tonight,” Pigeon said around a piece of jerky she was chewing on. “We head out in the morning. Talltop has honest folk compared to most edge places in the colonies, but don’t go wander more than necessary. Anywhere outside the cities is only half a step above functional anarchy at the best of times.”

Will didn’t like the way the Jeweler acted like she was in charge. The fact that she had enough experience for it to make sense annoyed him even more. But he would have suggested the same anyway, so he let it slide.

One of the first buildings they came across as they entered Talltop was an inn, the Last Caper. Three men stood by the door smoking slender pipes, eyeing the group with a cross between boredom and opportunistic hunger when they got near.

“Not this one,” Pigeon said, and walked out onto the nearest rope bridge, which rocked under her weight. “I know another place. Come.”

Will reluctantly went with the others across the rope bridge. Not that he would have chosen the Last Caper anyway—the inns nearest the entrance of a town were almost always dirty, overpriced traps that sustained themselves by luring in unwitting travelers.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Bee said, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder and giving him a sarcastically exaggerated pout. “You’ll get to go back to being our only tyrant soon enough.”

“You’re so funny,” Will shot back with an ugly grimace.

In the end they took into the Brazen Heron, a quaint little establishment near the center of the spiderweb that was Talltop. Set into a longfather trunk, it had four floors. The first was a common room, the second a dining area with an adjoining kitchen, and the third and fourth held the accommodations.

They all got rooms on the fourth floor. Will and Bee shared one, Mongrel and Nix another, and Pigeon and Oatmeal a third. He had expected the Jeweler to get a room for herself, but having Oatmeal with her was all the better—the lad could report back if he noticed anything odd. Just because Will wasn’t actively snooping didn’t mean he couldn’t passively gather information that happened to fall into his lap.

Bee didn’t see it that way. He sensed her condemning thoughts through their bond, but he ignored her. Mysterious Level 30s didn’t normally appear out of the woodwork—he couldn’t be blamed for his curiosity.

The room was spacious enough. It was strange, being inside a cuboid space carved out of a single massive piece of wood. The walls were all smooth and seamless aside from the rough, whorling grain of the material itself.

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The entire establishment had a pleasant smell—like nutmeg and parsley—that seemed to seep out of the walls and suffuse everything. It made him feel calm and a little sleepy. Almost enough to forget that he was several dozen meters in the air.

Curiously enough, there was a fireplace set into one wall with only a thin lining of stone to separate it from the surrounding material. There was not a single scorch mark around it. Evidently, longfather wood didn’t burn.

The bed was large and soft, with a thick down mattress. Just sitting down on it helped dispel some of the built up travel weariness, his body realizing that it would soon get to rest.

There were still errand to take care of before the evening was up, but they had a little time at least. Bee had a girl take away some of their dirty clothes to be washed. Then, once they were alone, she stripped him out of his tunic with unusual tenderness. She let her fingers trail across the fresh scar on his belly.

“It doesn’t hurt much,” she murmured. “That’s good.”

In turn, Will reached up to touch Bee’s new scars—at least the most notable ones. The bear’s claws had left two long streaks down the entire right side of her face, one terminating at the corner of her mouth, and the other pulling on her top lip.

“They suit you,” he said. “You look like a proper warrior now.”

The girly giggle she gave as response went at odds with her frightening visage.

“It’s nice getting to look at you with both eyes again.”

Pigeon had brought back his lost eye, good as new, but the grisly handprint Brimstone had left up the side of his head remained.

“I feel like you missed out on some kind of dad joke there,” Bee mused. “Like, ‘Next time I hope I lose an ear instead, so I only have to hear half your nagging’ or something.”

Will smiled. “That’s a good one. Mind if I take notes?”

She did mind, because she had other activities planned that would require the use of his hands.

They only managed a short and rather languid romp before Will’s body protested too much for it to be enjoyable.

Then they cleaned up in a communal bath on the fourth floor, got into some fresh clothes, and headed out on their separate errands. Bee was meant to help Mongrel procure more supplies, mainly foodstuffs, and Will had an elixir to get Identified. He carried it in the strongbox, just in case.

Not that it would repel any moderately motivated thief, but at least it made him feel better.

Pigeon was in the common room when he came down, sprawled across a well-worn couch with a flowery clog dangling off her outstretched foot. She was reading from a book held in one hand. He still felt like she was watching him as he approached, even though she didn’t look up or acknowledge his existence at all.

“You know anyone in this town with a Rank 3 Identify or higher?” he asked.

“Curio shop,” she replied absently.

“All right, thanks.”

She glanced up briefly. “What are you hoping for?”

Will frowned. “What do you mean?”

“The elixir.”

“I’m sure I didn’t tell you about that,” he said, frown deepening.

“You look upset. I thought since you like snooping so much, you wouldn’t mind if I engaged in a little myself.”

“Right. I get the message.”

Will made to walk away, but stopped when Pigeon sat up and snapped her book shut. “Wait.” She kicked off her clogs and buried her feet in the soft carpet. “Stay a while, Deathbed. I haven’t had the opportunity for a proper conversation with you yet.”

He figured there was no harm in that.

There were several chairs and recliners placed haphazardly around the room, most of them empty. Will pulled a chair opposite the couch and took a seat. Pigeon’s dark eyes glittered in the glow of the fireplace on their right.

“Why don’t we play a game?” she asked. “I ask you a question, then you ask one of me. We’ll go on as long as you like.”

“Very well.”

“Good.” Her face betrayed no hint of emotion. “What did you do to earn yourself a spot on this world, William Dahl?”

He hadn’t told her his full name, either. She was just showing off at this point.

“You’re not supposed to ask about that kind of thing,” Will said.

Even the innkeeper, who was enjoying an end-of-day beer at one of the tables, looked discomfited by the question. It was one of those things you left alone.

“I’m asking,” she said. “You have to answer. That’s how the game works.”

Will shrugged. “I hurt some people. I thought they deserved it, personally, but I guess the universe didn’t see it my way.”

That certainly wasn’t the only thing he’d done. But it was the big one.

Pigeon gave a grunt of displeasure. “How trite. I was hoping for something a little more original.”

“Sorry to disappoint you. My turn.” He stared down the tanned Jeweler. It was hard to guess her age. She could be twenty-five or fifty. “What did you put your legendary advancement into?”

“Compress,” she answered without hesitation. “My turn. Are you afraid of me?”

Will struggled to keep up.

Compress?

He wasn’t sure he had even heard of that skill. It had to be a skill, right? He would have to consult a compendium to find out what it did, but it certainly wasn’t a staple pick.

She’s kind of an odd one, isn’t she?

Then again, there probably weren’t many ordinary Level 30s. He imagined one would have to be slightly cracked in the head to go to such lengths to progress.

“I’ll ask again,” Pigeon repeated. “Are you afraid of me? Please answer honestly, or there is no point to the game.”

“Of course I am,” Will hissed. “You’re Level 30. I’m not stupid.”

“I wish you wouldn’t say that quite so loud.” She looked about the common room, and stared down the innkeep until he averted his gaze and pretended to be very fascinated by his drink. “But I do appreciate your candor.”

<> Bee queried through their bond. <>

I’m fine, Bee.

He took a deep breath to steel himself so that thought might be true.

“Are you actually our ally?” Will asked. “Or will you do us harm?”

Pigeon laid back down on the couch and tossed her book on the floor. “I’m my own ally. I don’t pay much attention to what sides other people divide themselves into.”