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Thaxter’s voice rang throughout the tower. “That about does it for tonight. Governor Apache, Commander Yula, and Alpha Company defeated the gobs!”

Cheers and loud conversation broke out after Yula issued orders to stand down. Soon, the entire settlement crowded the rooftop. The crowd’s energy reminded me of a holiday celebration. A familiar ring of well-wishers surrounded me, patting me on the back.

I thanked everyone for their support and encouraged people to get sleep after noticing an Exhausted debuff in my interface.

I threw up the Dark Room and invited the guards to join me for some quiet time in the rack. We needed sleep to reset daily cooldowns and prepare for another engagement, although I couldn’t fathom what that might be. We had reasons to celebrate, but Rezan’s parting had left me uneasy.

Half of the town retired into their makeshift bunks among the supplies, filling every floor of the fortification. Others chattered with excitement. Before climbing the Dark Room rope, I thanked everyone for their efforts. “We didn’t lose anyone tonight—which is more than I can say for the Deathless. But everyone needs to rest, so please keep it down. Yula—find our freshest guards to scout. I’d like to track the goblins. I want them back by noon when I’m awake.”

The orc nodded. “Zey leave at dawn on horse. Will make scouting reports.”

The tower quieted, and I retired for a well-deserved rest.

Citizens milled about town before I awoke. Some pulled handcarts to and from the barbican, others worked on the temple, while others busied themselves in daily chores. Seeing our townspeople working cheered me up. The settlement survived on life support, but it still functioned.

Squinting at the noontime sun, I climbed from the Dark Room to the tower.

Beaker greeted me from his perch, where a ballista belonged. He hadn’t given up on his hope that squatters’ rights took precedence over our need for a ballista.

Where were our ballistas? I intended to find out. I stepped off the tower’s edge and Slipstreamed to the surface of Hawkhurst Rock.

My first stop would be the woodshop. Only dwarves occupied the space. Sully winked and greeted me. “Good morning, Guv! Can I help ye with something?”

“Hey, guys. I’m just looking for Greenie. I thought he might be in here. Has anyone seen him?”

“I’ve seen naught of him today, but he usually works over there.” I followed their gaze toward a workbench covered by canvas.

I pulled back the canvas. A wood frame secured two coiled springs encased in iron housing—presumably for the ballistas. Beside it stood another stack of lumber featuring decorative slashes, holes, and hash marks. Orange and red stains covered the surface in intricate patterns, but the designs looked too crude for dwarven ornamentation. I picked up the boards and fruitlessly tried to fit them together.

“What is this for?”

Picking up on my irritation, Angus ventured a guess. “Ugh, that’s Greenie’s big project, but it looks more like parts for a fancy bed frame than a siege engine.”

Sully raised a disapproving eyebrow at the rudimentary carvings. “Fancy is one word for it. Seems like he’s staining it with berry juice and flower pulp.”

Angus distanced himself from the woodwork, avoiding blame for whatever bothered me.

Sully tugged his beard. “Greenie mentioned housing for his war machine, but that’s basswood. It’s too flexible for a ballista. Ye reckon he’s off his nut?”

Designs covered the face of half of the wooden slats. I suspected finicky engineering reasons had stalled Greenie, but this looked like he intentionally wasted time. Ornate carvings for a ballista? Even I could see they weakened the wood.

Part of me hoped we’d uncovered the wrong workbench, but the rest of the woodshop had smaller projects. “Thanks, guys. I’ll find our chancellor and get an explanation.

A green blip in my map’s radar clued me to where the goblin had gone. I found Greenie alone in the orrery.

The goblin worked the globe’s controls that predicted celestial arrangements. I climbed the spiral stairs, joining him.

Uncharacteristically, he didn’t immediately acknowledge my presence.

At least he spoke. “I have ascertained there won’t be any more conjunctions for the foreseeable future. There’s always a danger of an echo event, but the satellites head in opposite directions.”

“You and I need to talk.”

“I believe you are correct.” The goblin turned to face me, but he seemed sad instead of looking apologetic.

I crossed my arms. “This is about your brother, isn’t it?”

Greenie avoided my gaze. “Rezan and I were the smallest in our caste. We weren’t in line for the throne until our family poisoned, backstabbed, and cheated our way there. Until then, none of the tribes considered us worthy of their company. My people have a pecking order based on size and viciousness, and it’s assiduously maintained. We practice many humiliation rituals to enforce the social hierarchy, and they became dominant factors in my youth.”

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“They picked on you two growing up?”

“Very much so.”

“And since you were weak, you couldn’t do anything about it.”

“Rezan struggled, but they were merciless. As an incompetent fighter, I proved a poor ally. Perhaps I clung to my mother for too long. Rezan wanted acceptance so badly that he refused to give up trying to win them over. He never did. Years of rejection, shaming, and powerlessness twisted him into the angry, ugly thing you see today.”

“Has the demon changed him very much?”

“I’m afraid not. Beneath that calm façade lies a ruthless mind.”

“We need the ballistas. Or I’ll assign Angus to help you with the task if you want to avoid compromising your bonded promise.”

The goblin looked at the globe dominating the orrery’s interior—his eyes unfocused. “My earliest memories are playing with him. He used to be protective of my family, and that included me.”

I let him collect his thoughts. I couldn’t remain upset at him for wasting time on the ballista mechanics. The things looked strong enough to cause structural damage, though few guard members believed it could one-shot the goblins.

After a long pause, Greenie spoke again. “I remember wandering into the rat coop as a child. The rats bit at my toes, thinking they were beetles we regularly fed to them. I had been so young I could only scream and cry, and Rezan heard me first. He flew to my aid, even though they bit him enough to cause permanent scarring. He used to be like that. When the others shamed us, he bore the brunt of it.”

I, too, avoided Greenie’s gaze, albeit for different reasons. I had more than childhood memories haunting my thoughts. Instead, I needed to kill his brother to destroy the artifact.

Rezan had wrapped so much twine around that hunk of metal I could have shaken him upside down, and the relic wouldn’t have fallen off.

At first, the dichotomy of Rezan’s stately robes and improvised chinstrap amused me. Both testified to his resilience and determination to rule. Rezan wasn’t a mollycoddled aristocrat born into his kingship. Interring Greenie in a cell had been a sacrifice he’d made to keep his crown—cursed, as it was.

Greenie interrupted my thoughts. “For better or worse, everyone grows up. You ought to know that you’ve become an effective leader. You weren’t, at first, but you’ve filled the role.”

“Well, thanks. I’m glad you think so.”

The goblin’s tone wasn’t congratulatory, and his stern expression unsettled me. “You have much to learn but are going in the right direction.”

This wasn’t Greenie’s usual, deferent manner, so I challenged him—if anything, to lighten the conversation. “Alright. You’re probably right. Name something I need to learn.”

Instead of returning my smile, the goblin considered the request with a hard stare. “You haven’t learned how to lie.”

“To lie?”

“An effective ruler doesn’t always tell the truth.”

Crossing my arms, this wasn’t the comfortable conversation I wanted. “I don’t know, Greenie. That doesn’t sound like the style of leader I want to be. I think transparency is the best way. Where is this coming from? Did I do or say something wrong?”

The goblin leaned against the railing overlooking the orrery’s table map. “Seeing my brother again stirs many memories. My father accomplished a great deal in his lifetime. I’ve learned from him and my scheming family that deception plays a large role in wars and subterfuge. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Okay, but subterfuge isn’t something we do here.”

“Isn’t it? Did you not abscond with over a hundred debtors legally incarcerated in Arlington? Did you announce your intentions? Or did you hide your trail, like when you freed us from the mine?”

“That’s different. Tricking enemies is one thing. You’re talking about how to govern. I won’t lie to my people.”

“And what of the lie of omission? We’ve strategically withheld information to improve morale.”

“That’s different.”

“Agreed, but it also contradicts this ideal you mentioned—transparency. When secrecy protects lives or improves morale, satisfying a moral standard isn’t important.”

Greenie lost me again, so I leaned back and waited for him to make his point. “Sure. I still don’t know where you’re going with this.”

“I learned these lessons growing up. Friends and family members sometimes break their word. It doesn’t mean they’re irredeemable or everything they do after that is wrong. Writing people off is the surest way to find yourself alone. Everyone bears secrets, and that especially includes leaders. Governors must do what they feel is necessary to protect their people.”

I still didn’t understand him.

A shape in the orrery’s doorway drew my attention downward. I recognized Jahid from his silhouette, and the nameplate over his head confirmed it.

I waved him down, welcoming any distraction from this half-cocked lecture on the virtues of lying. “Yes, Jahid?”

“Governor, Captain Iris got worried about Corporal Fletcher and his caravan. She left this morning to find him.”

“What? By herself?”

“I’m sorry, sir. She left early and didn’t tell anyone. Lloyd sent news, but I’ve looked all over and couldn’t find you.”

I sighed, wondering if giving the mercenary guild autonomy had been a mistake. Losing Iris would deal a terrible blow to the guild and the town’s guards. But the Sternways and their guild weren’t just assets. Even though she wasn’t showing pregnancy, everyone knew she expected a child. I worried about her safety and counted her and Fletcher among my friends.

“Apache, do you plan to go after her?”

I turned to look at Greenie. I could never get him to use my name, and hearing it on his lips touched me. “Of course! Who else can better protect her?”

“Commander Yula is not without her woodland talents.”

“Isn’t Yula coordinating scouting reports?”

Jahid shifted his weight. “Sir, Commander Yula is looking for you. And she has already given us the morning report. The goblins weren’t in their bunker.”

I turned to Greenie, speaking only loud enough for him to hear. “I have to go help Iris. She’s stayed with us during the goblin attack, and I promised to go after him if we survived.”

“You’re planning to leave Hawkhurst?”

“The town owes her.”

“Before you leave, you ought to consider transferring governorship to me. The report of the king’s withdrawal is welcome news, but you understood Rezan’s motives before leaving the barbican. He means to do you harm.”

I nodded.

“Then you know my brother will never give up.”

Pondering the wisdom of putting a goblin in charge of Hawkhurst during a goblin assault hadn’t occurred to me until now. Until this point, Greenie had been one of the family, but making bonded promises to the settlement and his brother might jeopardize him.

Letting Greenie steer the ship made sense, but his sullen behavior bothered me. He’d been governor when I went for Iremont, and no one objected. Yula deferred to his authority and seemed to respect his decision as final.

A thought from Sune Njal echoed in my head. He spoke of goblins playing the long game and cautioned me never to trust them. Was putting Greenie in charge akin to letting the fox guard the chicken coop?

“Apache, an active governor cannot leave in times of crisis. And Ida isn’t familiar with siege tactics. I know politics and how to handle Rezan.”

Greenie used my name again. And critiquing Ida and pushing for governor also fell out of his character. He seemed unusually assertive after moping around for so many weeks. But he wasn’t wrong about the settlement not having a governor around during a crisis. The town didn’t need another blow to its morale. Greenie showed resilience against Rezan’s telepathic pull, and promoting someone else before leaving seemed a greater risk to the settlement.

Jahid shifted below us, unaware of the dilemma. “Governor, should I fetch Yula? Iris has a head start, and she’s swift.”

I waffled until memories of Greenie and Charitybelle working together reminded me of who built the place. The image of the two engineers working happily together made me ashamed of worrying about Hawkhurst’s chancellor.

Using the settlement interface, I promoted Greenie to the governor.