image [https://i.imgur.com/Q88kdw9.jpg]

Expecting Hawkhurst’s citizens to sit still during a holiday asked too much. People milled about town and returned to familiar routines. Some weeded grass from the flowers ringing the roundhouses. Murdina tended to her sheep. Others removed boards from buildings and homes. The town moved forward organically despite my official declaration of time off.

Some meandered in groups, drinking ale at the picnic tables between the roundhouses. Farmwives from Arlington filled out one table. Maggie’s quarry crew occupied another. Yula and the corporals sat at a third.

To avoid making anyone stand at attention, I approached their table informally as one could after a battle. “Ladies, how are you?”

Corporal Turan nodded. “Hey, Guv. Did you catch any shuteye?”

“I did.”

She turned to the table. “I ought to get some rack time too. Nothing winds me up like a battle without casualties, but now fatigue hits me. The pastries and the ale aren’t helping either.”

“Pastries?” I’d never eaten pastries in town before. “Did caravans carry pastries?”

“They had fruit preserves. Ida splurged and bought the entire supply, so the bakery has been busy all day.”

I noticed red and blue smears at the corners of their mouths. Corporal Lazaar preoccupied herself by running her tongue over her teeth, trying to dislodge a seed stuck in her gums. Even Yula licked her fingers. Her need for a napkin somehow made me grin.

Corporal Arikan thumbed toward the town hall. “The work crew has been making deliveries every hour or so. Krek’s townspeople never spoiled us like this.”

Corporal Turan nodded. “I wouldn’t recommend snagging one at the bakery. Rank holds no privileges there. Your best bet is to wait for the next batch.”

I laughed. “Thanks for the tip. Yula, can you and your officers meet me after tomorrow’s breakfast? We’ll need to talk about security.”

After Yula nodded, I let them be and walked toward the town hall, looking for an empty table and finding none.

This strange loneliness differed from looking for a place to sit in the school cafeteria. Without Greenie or Fabulosa, I didn’t fit into any clique or conversation. Even amongst the officers, I felt out of place. Aside from Ida, any table I joined wouldn’t talk freely with the chief listening.

After spotting the lieutenant governor sitting with Ally, Rocky, and Mrs. Berling, I joined their table. “Rock, I’m surprised you and Mrs. Berling can put your feet up.”

Chef Rockthane grinned tiredly. “Aye. I mustered young Hugo to cook a segment of worm. He’s turning the spit. The slow-roasting keeps him busy.”

Mrs. Berling fanned her wrinkled fingers to exaggerate the luxury of sitting during food prep. “And Olive and Fortune are splendid bakers. I only explained my recipe once before turning them loose. They’re making the last batch now. I’m glad you’ll be able to taste them.”

Ally nodded. “Folks’ll save room for roast and ale. A person can graze on only so much sweetness before wanting to wash it down with bitters.”

“So, Ida and Ally, can I ask where you sleep? With Fab and Greenie gone, there are vacancies in the manor.”

Ally answered. “We’re holed up in the first roundhouse. It’s not as crowded as it used to be, but I could stand for a spot of privacy. What say you, Ida, dear?”

Ida spoke lazily and fingered her empty ale mug. “It’s about time I moved to a private apartment. I’ve got sensitive books to keep, and that’s easier when I can lock a door. I bend my back carrying them around.”

It amused me to see Ida drinking before dinner. “You already have a locking cabinet at the manor. You never carry books around.”

“Bah. And what would you know about the intricacies of bookkeeping? If it doesn’t bite or glow with magic, you wouldn’t give it a bother.” Her jesting admonishments didn’t bother me.

I snorted. “Regardless, I’ll clean out the rooms for you tomorrow. You can move in whenever you want.”

Ida stroked her chin. “Your timing isn’t half bad. Next week, we’re getting arrivals from the East—immigrants from Jarva—two farming families, although their numbers are unknown. But you know farmers—kids are free labor.”

“That’s welcome news. Maybe we should rearrange the roundhouses to accommodate them.”

Ida flapped her hand in disagreement. “Moving people around stirs arguments and creates headaches—not that anyone wants to hear about my headaches.”

“I never said I didn’t want to hear about your headaches. What do you suggest—splitting up families to integrate them?”

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“Of course not. There’s so much space in the roundhouses you won’t need to.”

I turned to Ally. “Is this true? Aren’t the roundhouses overcrowded?”

“The Krekkies lay their heads in the barracks. Most humans fancy fragile homesteads. Ye should gander how they slap buildings together, Guv. Their frames look like toothpicks! Anyhoo, the roundhouses are emptier than Rocky’s mug on Marketnight.”

Thaddeus Rockthane drunkenly grinned. “’Tis a brash claim, Ally. I flop a roundhouse and can attest they’re naught so lonely as all that.”

Ida ignored the chatter. “Regardless of construction, I have the immigrant situation well under control.”

“It sounds like you do. Yula and the guards are meeting me in the morning to discuss security. Do you have time to be in on the meeting? I promise not to make it an early one.” I eyed her mug and winked.

Ida rolled her eyes, but she smiled. Nothing pleased her more than me setting up meetings.

“I’ll rope in Thaxter and the Sternways. We’ll need the mercs behind security decisions, including threats from across the river. Afterward, I’d like to talk to you and Ally about upcoming construction projects.”

This suggestion pleased Ida even more, and it seemed an opportune time to ask a favor. “Until then, would you mind being governor briefly?”

“Why? Are you leaving again?”

“No. At least, not soon. I need to see if the relic interferes with your sleeping—if it invades your dreams.”

Ida stiffened at the indignity of being a guinea pig. “What nonsense are you on about?”

Resisting the urge to sigh in frustration before answering, I explained how the relics ensorcelled the kobold queen, Commander Thaxter, and Rezan. We knew the cursed crowns beckoned the nearest leader. But we didn’t know if relics became inert when attached to a dead goblin sunken in Otter Lake. If Ida slept well after being promoted to governor, Rezan’s relic posed no danger.

It might be possible to find the relic if it fell into the river by itself, but being attached to Rezan meant the current carried it into the lake. The possibility of wearing it appealed to me, especially if Heavenly Favor allowed me to resist its influence, but more than likely, the Orga River buried it under silt. I wouldn’t know how to find it if Ida heard voices.

Ida grimaced at the thought of a demon whispering to her at night, but she brushed off the idea. “All that certainly explains your erratic behavior.”

I opened my mouth to protest, then thought better of it. I’d take whatever pity Ida gave. “Does this mean you’ll expose yourself to it?”

Ida shrugged nonchalantly. “If some stupid demon comes scratching at my door, I’ll spit in their face.”

“That won’t be necessary, but I like your spirit.” I promoted her to governor. The table looked at her as if she threatened to transform into a werewolf.

Ida waved at us in irritation. “Ah, go on! Do you think I’m going to go knock-kneed by a little boogeyman? I’ve dealt with Arlington lunatics all my life. What’s one lousy demon going to do?”

I sat with them for the rest of the afternoon. Rocky and Mrs. Berling left to serve dinner, but it became an otherwise enjoyable conversation. I learned the latest goings-on between Maggie and her quarry crew and how Archie and the colliers adjusted without Gunny in charge.

Mainly, we focused on who and where citizens built houses—a conversation in which Ida showcased her amazing memory. She and Ally gossiped about parceling out plots of land, guessing who would procrastinate in paying off their land debt and who would redouble their effort to become independent.

After dinner, I excused myself, promising to ready their manor rooms by tomorrow. After enough ale, even Ida smiled when she bid me goodnight. I brought clean linen from the storehouse for the beds and began housekeeping.

Beaker dutifully followed me back to the manor, but my chores in the other apartments puzzled him. He stood in the hallway, watching me mill about in Greenie and Fabulosa’s apartments. The change in routine perturbed him, and he squawked softly as if questioning my business in these strange rooms.

“Don’t worry, buddy. I’ll go to sleep when I finish tidying up. We’re getting new roommates soon.”

I started with Fabulosa’s room since she lived in it the least. She’d done a fine job of cleaning up after herself. I only needed to sweep, change the bedding, and fluff her pillows.

Greenie’s room presented more of a challenge, organizationally and emotionally. He’d already taken care of the loose parchments, stacking them neatly in piles with notes and labels. I separated the blueprints for Ally to peruse. Without our resident architects, she came the closest thing to an engineer.

I prepared myself for sad memories, but none of his effects bore personal touches. His leavings engaged my intellect and curiosity, leaving little bandwidth for tears. After I took his old blueprints and engineering plans down to the office, the paperwork in his quarters concerned correspondence, inventory, and logistical needs. Most of it would mean more to Ida, or, at least, I hoped it would.

Instead of using his mattress, Greenie pulled a blanket to a corner to sleep. His monastic standards weren’t from his ancestry, for the goblins in the mine kept comfortable furniture in their quarters. They came from Malibar, where humans slept on mats.

Despite Greenie’s frugal lifestyle, he wasn’t tidy. You can take the goblin out of the Bluepeaks, but you can’t take the Bluepeaks out of the goblin. My sweep of his domain included tossing desiccated husks of food and dirt out the window.

A note under the blanket stopped me short. Greenie addressed it to me.

Lieutenant Governor Apache,

If you’re reading this letter, it means my plans to rid the world of my family have borne fruit, and Hawkhurst endures. My undoing is a small price to pay for living beyond the shadow of the Bluepeaks. Moreover, this goblin sealed his fate the moment he left captivity.

I hope you forgive my subterfuge and understand that lying for the greater good is essential. As I said earlier, allies do not owe one another the truth. Deception is a survival tool, as any camouflaged animal can attest. Mourn lightly for me, for I face my death willingly. Fear of nonexistence is as irrational as fearing the time before one’s birth. There are enough data points to support the axiom that the sun rises with or without me.

I’ve left blueprints for Governor Charitybelle’s castle. It’s a prudent design. Good luck with your endeavors.

Your friend in absence, Governor Emeritus Esol

My eyes squeezed tears down my cheeks, but I wiped them dry by the time I’d finished the message. The goblin’s relentlessly stiff prose made me miss the little guy evermore. I grinned at the inclusion of our titles. That’s our Greenie.

Aside from missing his company, I didn’t know how to react to his words, and rereading them revealed no double meanings or hidden secrets. My selfish side breathed a sigh of relief that his last words were short, for my heart couldn’t muddle through a lengthy farewell.

I folded the paper and went to bed in a melancholy funk for the second time today.