“Whoa,” he said. “Just me.”

Zereh sheathed her weapons in one smooth motion. “Took you long enough.”

Emrys grinned. “It’s a long walk. But I brought presents.” He could have sworn the tight-lipped warrior nearly smiled at that.

“Let’s see them, then.” She followed him to a bench on the side of the courtyard.

“First and foremost,” he said, “the necklace of slightly improved potion making.” He produced the necklace from the sleeve of his robe with an exaggerated flourish.

She brought the necklace close to her face. The full force of her focus was on the item. The warrior grunted and pocketed the necklace. “That one was yours, then?”

Emrys rolled his eyes. “Yes. Yours looks much more impressive, though I admit I didn’t examine it too carefully while I was in the dungeon. I think it’s a dress.” He pulled the fabric out of his bag and held it up to the light. The material was light and so silky that it felt almost wet in his hands.

Zereh’s expression was inscrutable. “This is what dropped for me? You’re sure?”

“Yes. Gold chest and everything. It must be powerful, but all I get are question marks when I look at it too hard. I was thinking it might be some kind of blood magic artifact, since one of the last attacks the witch used was that blood poison ball.”

The warrior snatched it away from him and shoved it unceremoniously into her bag. “What were you doing in a dungeon of that level anyway? Even with party members, you should have known it would be too much for you.”

“Okay, I admit that wasn’t a great showing for me, but I’m tougher than you think. I’ve been learning fire magic since I was twelve years old, so I know a thing or two.” Emrys crossed his arms. Her words stung more than he wanted to admit, because of course he’d been saying the same thing to himself ever since Jefferson and Merv had disappeared. “Anyway, you have your loot so I’d have thought you’d be happy right now.”

The warrior scowled. “I died,” she said simply. “It’s not pleasant, and it’s not easy to bounce back from.”

“Ah, right. Thank you for that. I wouldn’t have expected you to… Anyway, thank you.”

She looked away. “Just stick to a dungeon you can handle, next time.”

“I will.” Emrys hesitated. “Listen, there’s something else I want you to have. For saving my life.” He took one of the mana roots out of his pouch and held it out to her.

Her eyes widened. “Where did you get that?”

“Look, it’s not something I would advertise, or anything.” He shuffled uncomfortably. “It’s just because you saved my life and all. I thought I should give you something extra.”

“Do you know what this is? Do you know how valuable this is?”

At that, the arcanist couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “It’s a lot less valuable to me than my life, is what it is. I’m saying thank you, that’s all.”

Her brown eyes searched his, as she reassessed him. She nodded. “Well, then. You’re welcome.”

The finality in her tone pulled him up short, and Emrys realized that he wasn’t ready to say goodbye. “I don’t suppose you might want to stay in the same party for a while longer? We could run another dungeon, maybe one that’s a little easier. I’m pretty handy to have around in the ice dungeons, you know.”

She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “No, I don’t think that would be a good idea. I don’t travel with a party.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t believe that’s any of your business, actually. Have a good night. I do wish you luck on your travels.” She spun on her heel and returned to the training dummy with the lightning breath. As she walked away Emrys felt the party disband, and his connection to the woman dissolved.

He let out a heavy breath. He shoved down the part of him that wanted to follow her around like a puppy. She was in a league all her own, but he still had his dignity.

Emrys had never considered himself to be a charismatic person, but it had also never been a problem. His friends and family knew him well enough that he didn’t need to charm them, and when he was approached by immortals it was because they wanted something from him. The onus of being charming was on the solicitors.

So he found himself at a loss when he did not want to leave Zereh’s side. There was nothing she needed from him, and he had shown himself to be less than beneficial to her. It was entirely possible that had she not been distracted by keeping him alive during the final boss fight, she would not have died and suffered the penalties of death that her kind faced.

After all she had done for him already, Emrys could hardly ask her for more. And if he had had a chance to be charming sooner, he had certainly missed it.

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With a sigh, the mage left the training hall. He felt the same feeling of heavy loss he had felt when he deviated from the destiny the goddess of prophecy had laid out for him, like there had been a fork in the road and in choosing one path he lost the other forever.

If there was one person who would understand him, it was Sven. They had been friends since long before Emrys had developed his magic, and he had been Emrys’s sole confidant after his encounter with the goddess.

“Oh! Emrys, thank goodness I found you.” An older woman came barreling around the corner. Her hair was a frizzy mess and she was wringing her hands like she might get answers out of them.

“Mrs. Thurgood?” Emrys recognized Sven’s mother, but he had never seen her outside of her house.

“Emrys, have you seen Sven?”

Ice ran down his spine at the question. “I haven’t, I’ve been in a dungeon for the last couple of days. You haven’t seen him? I was just talking with Julia, she hasn’t seen him in a while either.”

“I still don’t know why your mother lets you put yourself in danger like that,” she muttered. Her face darkened for a moment and then resolved back into worry. “Sven left town a few days ago, but he didn’t take any of his things and he didn’t tell Dolores he wouldn’t be on the tower. I’m worried he went off and got taken by the necromancer or some such.” She looked about ready to cry. “He’s been doing that since the funeral, you know, just going for walks outside the walls. I keep telling him it’s dangerous but he doesn’t listen.”

“There, there, Mrs. Thurgood. I’m sure it’s nothing. I’ll tell you what, I’ll run down to the village myself and check in with Stephanie’s parents. If they haven’t seen him, then we’ll worry.”

She looked at him as though he’d said he would jump off a cliff. “So I can lose both of you? Absolutely not! I’ll send an adventurer.”

That struck a nerve. “Am I not an adventurer? Have I not cleared dungeons on my own?”

“Oh dear, you know it isn’t that. It’s just that…I wouldn’t want to lose you. But the adventurers…well, you know how they are.”

Immortal, she didn’t say. Disposable. For some reason the immortals didn’t like to be reminded of their invincibility, so it was considered more polite to refer to them as adventures. Which meant that if he wanted to consider himself an adventure, he needed another word for it. It was enough to make a man scream.

But he pushed that feeling down. Sven’s safety was more important than any title, no matter how hard earned. And on the off chance his friend really was in danger of the necromancer, it would be more prudent to send an immortal.

“You’re right,” he said. “And I know just the one to ask.” Emrys led the woman into the training hall where Zereh was still hacking away at the training dummies. By the look of it, she was practicing a dashing move where she ran across the room, weaving through the dummies and slashing each one as she passed.

She moved so quickly she seemed to blur, and he wouldn’t have caught her strikes if not for the red lines that appeared on the dummies where they were struck.

“Oh wow. She’s quite talented isn’t she?”

“Yes, and you can trust her. I’ve worked with her once before, and when she says she’ll do something she’ll see it through.”

“Of course! She is an adventurer after all.” Mrs. Thurgood patted his hand and settled in by the door to wait until Zereh was finished. The warrior barely paused, flitting from one end of the room to the next, and back again.

Emrys pursed his lips. It was typical of his parents’ generation to be blind to the immortals’ flaws. They were patient and gracious to a fault, and too often they were taken advantage of. An immortal would promise to return with twenty wolf pelts by the end of the week and not actually return until the next summer. In the same way, Sven’s mother was content to wait on the sidelines until Zereh approached her, no matter that if Sven were truly in danger, that danger was increasing with every moment.

The mage’s anxiety built into frustration that worsened every time the warrior passed without so much as a glance in their direction. He nearly called out to her but each time he would feel the soft pressure of Mrs. Thurgood’s hand on his arm, and she would gently shake her head.

So he bit his tongue, and over time his frustration dissolved into awe. Zereh appeared to never tire. She never slowed, never rested, yet her form remained just as flawless and graceful as when she started.

Were all immortals capable of this, or was she a cut above? He wondered. He had only visited the training hall once or twice before and never stayed for long. But if this was the sort of tireless training they could endure, perhaps it was warranted that adventurer had become synonymous with immortal.

It wasn’t until others began trickling into the hall to do training of their own that Zereh finally approached. A flicker of annoyance crossed her face when she looked at him, but she carefully schooled her features into a neutral expression when she turned to Mrs. Thurgood.

“What can I help you with, ma’am?” she asked.

The woman’s patient countenance gave way immediately to worry. “It’s my son, you see. He’s been missing for a few days now, and I fear he’s been taken by the necromancer. Won’t you find out what’s happened to him?”

“Tell me more about this necromancer,” said Zereh, her face inscrutable.

“I don’t know too much, except there’s been rumors about undead cows and the like. From the sound of it, he started small and has been practicing. A few folks have gone missing in the woods, and people are saying they’ve been taken by the necromancer to be experimented on.”

“Where should I start looking for him?”

“We think he last went to the eastern village, Sonora. Start there, and you should be able to find someone who has seen him.”

The warrior nodded thoughtfully.

“I’d like to go with you!” Emrys blurted out. “Sven is my best friend, and I can’t just stand back and do nothing.”

Zereh met his earnest gaze with a mixture of surprise and irritation, like she had forgotten he was there.

“I can handle this quest myself,” she said coolly. “I accept this–”

“Wait, Mrs. Thurgood. Please, if I can’t go with her I will go by myself, and like you said I may not make it back.”

Sven’s mother looked between the two of them, panic-stricken. “I don’t know.”

“I’ll be able to help. Since I know most of Sven’s regular haunts we’ll find him faster together. Besides, we’ll have a better chance against the necromancer as a party. Please.”

The woman closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she let it out, her eyes opened with clear determination.

“You can’t do this alone. Come back when your party has two or more people.”

Emrys grinned.

Zereh gaped. She looked at the mage like it was her first time seeing him. “How did you do that?”

“Take me with you,” he said. “I won’t get in the way, and like I said I might be able to help you find him sooner.”

She stared at him for a long moment. The full force of her gaze was enough to make his hands shake, but he clenched his fists and did not look away .

It was impossible to tell what she’d been looking for, but she must have found it. She nodded once.

“Fine. Join my party.”