Chapter 28: Morning

Leo struggled to get any sleep for the rest of the night. He rolled over, attempting to find a more comfortable position, but the lingering adrenaline wouldn’t stop coursing through his veins. He kept thinking about the map, scared that if he closed his eyes, he would forget it.

He ended up finding a scrap paper and scratching the rough shape down, but without a proper pen it wasn’t particularly detailed and only somewhat assuaged his anxiety.

In the end, he managed to fall into a fitful sleep. By the time the sun rose and dawn’s first rosy rays flooded the room, Leo woke up feeling barely more rested than before.

The [Fragmentholder] slowly sat up and rubbed his eyes. It was still rather early, so he tried to be quiet, not wanting to disturb the others.

His concern turned out to be unwarranted, because when he rose, he spotted a familiar figure seated casually at the edge of the bed beside the bags. Leo stood silently, frowning at the [Executioner]’s back.

Spade had removed her cloak, revealing a simple short sleeved shirt underneath. Toned, muscular arms were covered in a multitude of scars as varied and messy as the ones on her face. Rough patches of burned flesh. Star shaped bursts. Jagged slashes and thin silvery lines.

These were somehow even more dense, layers and layers of scars merging into shapeless masses of old tissue that could barely be distinguished individually. The [Executioner] slowly rolled her shoulder back, then repeated the motion. Was she stretching?

Before Leo could think on it further, Spade turned her head, meeting the former [Thief]’s stare with a casual smile.

“I see you’re up early.”

Leo frowned. “You are too.” He squinted at the bright sunlight and moved to close the curtains a little, only slowing in order to study the shadowy figures of the Hounds guards by the shore. He turned to the [Executioner] again.

“What’re you doing?”

Spade tapped the scars running along her bicep. “Stretching my scars,” she said simply before continuing with the motions.

Leo blinked. “Are you supposed to do that?” he asked somewhat self consciously. He’d certainly never bothered to.

“Usually it’s not necessary.” She shrugged. “In my case I’ve got enough of them that if I don’t, they tend to get stiff. A limited range of movement isn’t particularly ideal when I need to handle a blade.”

The [Fragmentholder] nodded slowly. From what he could tell, there was no notable pattern to the scars’ shapes or placements. Their lack of uniformity only made him more curious. Even if Spade had worked as a bounty hunter at some point and fought often, the sheer amount of scars still seemed far too extreme. He frowned. They certainly didn’t paint a picture of a particularly rosy past.

A rustle caught Leo’s attention, and he turned to see Allan slowly rising. He looked much better rested than the former [Thief] felt.

“Good morning,” he said. Allan, however, didn’t respond. Instead, those dark eyes shifted up to Leo.

“What did you do?”

The [Healer]’s voice was flat, and Leo blinked, taken aback by the sudden seriousness.

“I—”

“The party gained experience,” Allan interrupted. Leo’s jaw clicked shut, and he hurried to check.

Sure enough, in the rush of the previous night, he’d completely missed a notification.

[Progress towards next level: 31%]

That was a decently significant leap. But why?

The notification didn’t give any hints as to the reason, simply stating that he’d gained experience. Leo thought back to the previous night, estimating when the notification must have appeared. Had he gotten experience for learning more about the fragment’s location? Was that another way that the [Fragmentholder] class could level?

It would make sense, he thought. Definitely more sense than defeating Echoes at least. He found himself oddly relieved at the idea. It was a sign that he was on the right track, that this was indeed what he should be doing.

Leo realized he’d gone quiet, and when he looked up, Allan was still giving him that flat look. The [Fragmentholder] sighed. He’d been hoping to explain on his own terms, but it seemed like that wouldn’t be the case.

“I snuck out last night.” He kept his voice low; he didn’t know how thin the walls were. “Some of the Hounds were in a meeting. Sonia, Flora, Ivan, and a guy I think was the Douglas person Flora mentioned.”

He exhaled. “Apparently the fragment’s on an island surrounded by fog. They had a map of the lake with diagrams and marks. They’ve got their whole search operation planned out, with numbered groups and routes and everything.”

No one spoke, so Leo kept going, the words tumbling out in a hush.

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“I managed to get a look at the map, so I’ve got a rough idea of things. If we can get those directions, we’ll be a step ahead of the Hounds.”

The [Fragmentholder] paused, waiting for a response, but there was none. It was hard to tell if Spade’s lack of reaction was her usual unshakeable calm or if she actually had heard him sneak out last night.

Allan, on the other hand, was unreadable. Leo had expected one of his usual concerned, disapproving looks—the ones that never failed to make him feel guilty in their subtle disappointment. This, however, was disconcerting. It made the [Healer] opaque to him in a way that had him fidgeting.

“…Are you not gonna say anything?”

Those dark eyes didn’t blink. Finally, after what felt like ages, Allan responded.

“You already know what I’m going to say.”

Leo winced a little at that. The [Healer] just shook his head and sighed.

“Were you hurt? Did anyone see you?”

Leo shook his head to both questions, raising his arms to show that he hadn’t gotten more than a few scratches and bruises.

“No one saw me, I think.” His eyes flitted to the lake. A few more Hounds had shown up, though it was too far to see exactly who. Leo’s eyes narrowed. One group was carrying a boat over to tether to the shore.

The [Fragmentholder] turned back to Allan and Spade. “The Hounds’re moving boats to the shore,” he muttered. “I heard them planning last night. They’re gonna get the boats ready, then take off the moment they get the routes.”

Allan nodded. “What’s our plan?”

There wasn’t a shred of hesitation in Allan’s words, and Leo felt a wave of gratitude swell up. Gratitude, and a hint of guilt, too. You don’t deserve that trust, a tiny voice said in the back of his mind. Leo shook his head and cleared his throat, shoving the thought back down.

“We still don’t have the directions yet, but until then, I think we should scope out the lake. Once we do get the routes, we’ll need to know the best spot to take off without the Hounds spotting us.” Leo frowned. “I want to check the water again too, see if there’s any kind of clue about how the tides work.”

“You think they’ll let us near the lake?” Spade asked, an eyebrow raised. Leo pursed his lips.

“If they don’t, I’ll sneak out again and see if I can dodge the guards.” Ideally, though, they’d find someone willing to let them stop by the shore. Considering Douglas had seemed fairly respectful of the supposedly alive fae the previous night, they might be able to go to the Glass Lake under the pretense of prayer. He explained as much, though Allan still looked doubtful.

“We should try at least,” Leo said. “Otherwise we’d just be wasting time. There’s only three days left now, maybe less if Irving gives in sooner.”

Allan opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, Spade’s head snapped to the door, grey eyes sharp. Leo tensed on instinct.

In the next few seconds, he heard the faint thump of footsteps and a cane along the wooden floorboards, the sound steadily growing louder. Moments later, a knocking sounded on the bedroom door.

The three exchanged glances. Allan stepped over and carefully opened the door, revealing Irving on the other side.

“Good morning,” the [Healer] said amicably. The man nodded in response, blue eyes scanning the room before finally landing on the bags still sitting on the mattress. He frowned.

“Was there something wrong with the bed?”

“Oh no, not at all! It’s just, well, with all our traveling, we’re more used to sleeping on hard surfaces,” Allan said with a bit of sheepishness.

Irving’s brows furrowed. “I see,” he muttered. He nodded to the group. “I made tea downstairs. I don’t eat breakfast, but you’re free to use the kitchen if you’d like. I’ll be in my room if you need me.”

“Thank you,” Allan said sincerely. “We’re very grateful to you.”

Irving just grunted and turned away, soon disappearing down the hallway in a slow, but steady walk. It wasn’t until they heard the click of his room’s door closing that the three finally exited the bedroom themselves.

The kitchen and living room looked the same as the previous day, save for the small pot resting atop a worn placemat with steam still rising from its spout. Leo opened the lid and squinted down at the dark liquid. He hadn’t had tea very often before; it was much more popular in the southern countries, though over the last few years it had begun to spread north as well.

After opening various cabinets, he found a few cups and took out three. The top shelf, he noted, had quite a few more glasses, but they were coated in a layer of dust.

“That [Vigilance] skill is really useful,” Leo muttered as he poured a tiny bit of tea into one cup. He set down the pitcher and raised the glass, sniffing the liquid. He didn’t think Irving would try to poison them, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

Spade apparently had none of the same reservations, because she poured a cup and didn’t hesitate to take a sip. At Leo’s look, she simply raised an eyebrow.

“High constitution,” she said by way of explanation. She shrugged and set the cup down. “It takes a bit more for poison to affect me unless it’s very high quality. And we do have a healer.”

“[Mend] doesn’t work on poison,” Allan muttered. He took a tiny sip from his own cup and frowned.

“Is something wrong with it?” Leo asked.

“It’s…interesting.”

The former [Thief] stared down at his own cup and, after a moment’s pause, drank some himself.

It was, indeed, pretty bad. Weirdly sharp and yet somehow bland at the same time. It had the sort of bitterness that only showed up in the aftertaste. Leo was no expert on tea, but he doubted this was what it was supposed to taste like, otherwise he couldn’t imagine why it was so popular in the south. Still, he drank the rest of his cup, not wanting to waste anything. Besides, it wasn’t like he hadn’t had much worse.

Spade grabbed the pot and poured another glassful.

“You actually like this stuff?”

The [Executioner] chuckled and took another sip. “I wouldn’t know. I haven’t been able to taste anything for several years now.”

Leo’s jaw clicked shut. Whatever he’d been expecting, it certainly hadn’t been that. The woman’s blasé attitude only made it all the more discomforting.

“Wouldn’t that make it even harder to detect poison?”

Allan didn’t look impressed, and Spade laughed.

“Probably.” She set down her now empty cup and glanced over at the door. Through the front windows, Leo could see movement up and down the streets, but he couldn’t make out which specific Hounds were nearby. It was clear, however, that the village was waking up.

“Ready to go?”

The two nodded, and after taking a moment to school his expression, Leo gripped the handle, turned it, and stepped outside.