Alder played like a drunk man, which worked surprisingly well for him.

Blair still won the majority of the chess matches, but not all. And a few of her victories were close things. Alder certainly wasn’t a better strategist or planner than her, but he was obnoxiously hard to predict.

Bobby was similar, but with Bobby, there was a pattern underneath his madness. He simply played the fool.

Alder…

After seven matches, she still wasn’t sure if Alder actually planned things out or flew entirely by the seat of his pants.

He would make a seemingly random choice that would lose him games, only for a similar move in a later match to be a planned feint.

It had been far more entertaining than she’d expected.

After the last game, they had decided to call it, and Alder suggested setting up tents before it got too dark. And while the darkness wouldn’t bother her much, she agreed.

Blair paused as Alder opened his tent bag. She had been expecting another mess like his pack, only to see a perfectly organized bag.

“What? You can organize a tent bag but not your pack?”

Alder shrugged. “Packs harder. Plus, I never want to spend more time than I have to setting this thing up. Shelter is important for us frail humans.”

She glared at the man, who hadn’t even looked up from his task.

“And that logic doesn’t apply to your pack?”

He waggled a hand before laying his ground tarp out. “It does, but only to the important bits. I know where my med-kit is, as well as some other emergency stuff. The rest fills what space it wishes.”

Blair groaned. “Organized chaos might be worse than just chaos. It’s like I’m being mocked with glimpses of beauty.”

Alder laughed. “Feel free to organize it if it bothers you that much.”

Blair snorted as she bent down to help him lay out the tent. “I will after we’re set up.”

Ten minutes later and both their tents were standing tall, though Alder’s was sagging slightly from dented poles.

He looked over his tent with a frown. “Stupid vampiric asshole,” he grumbled.

“A vampire attacked your tent?”

He shook his head. “Attacked'' is too strong a word. Harassed is more like. Bastard stuck around for an entire week.”

Blair had several questions but settled for, “Why?”

He shrugged. “Guy wasn’t totally there upstairs and somehow got it in his head that I was the lord of the town. Wanted to battle me for my title. When I told him to take a hike, I expected to get jumped. Instead, he just got…annoying. Very, very annoying.” He scowled and slowly walked around his tent.

“Stole a quarter of my socks. Just a quarter! So I had a bunch of single socks lying around, their partners snatched away. Bastard really put effort into being a nuisance.”

Blair burst out laughing. “It could have been worse! He could have really been trying to take over the town.”

Alder scowled harder. “The Markov twins tried that. One of the most stressful summers of my life.”

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She blinked. “I was under the impression hedge mages in small towns lead quiet lives.”

“You know, I’ve heard that too. I feel kinda ripped off. Maybe being a Telss brings bad luck.”

“You have any crazy incidents? You’re from a major pack. You’ve had to have seen your own share of weirdness.”

Blair pursed her lips. She had been in plenty of fights but that wasn’t strange by Were-Kin standards. She needed something weirder. “Hmm…I solved a murder one time.”

Alder stopped in his tracks. “You solved a murder? I don’t suppose you want to elaborate?”

Blair smiled. “No, I don’t think I will.”

Alder squawked, “Why!?”

Blair grinned as she laid out her sleeping bag. “Because it’s funnier to keep you guessing. I’ll tell you more later. One day.”

“Damn. You got a cruel streak. You know that?“

She smiled.

Wind whipped across the clearing, carrying the scent of lilac and wet pine. It caused the open rain flies to flap wildly.

Alder shivered and rubbed his arms.

“How does a fire sound? Cause I think it sounds nice.”

Blair’s smile faded. “I don’t know. Marring this place feels…wrong. Sacrilegious.”

Alder quickly raised his hands. “Woah now, I’m in full agreement there. I’m not cutting down any trees here. But the clearing provides in this case.”

He walked towards the ring of stone she had noticed earlier. She had thought it was a relic or art project some earlier travelers had left, but when Alder walked up to the small stone bowl in the center, she realized it was a fire pit. Sort of.

It was too small for one, with the grey stone bowl in the center being a little over a foot around, and there was absolutely no lingering smell of smoke or soot stains anywhere on the bowl.

Alder stopped in front of it, raised his hands, then mouthed something so that Blair couldn’t overhear.

The bowl lit up with a whoosh of purple and green flames. Blair felt the sudden heat from ten feet away, but Alder didn’t flinch back or give any signs of discomfort.

He warmed his hands over the flames before taking a seat on the nearest ring of benches.

“It won’t hurt you. Feel free to come closer.”

Blair sat down next to Alder, marveling at the comforting heat. It didn’t grow hotter as she walked, staying the same toasty temperature regardless of how close she was to the spinning flames.

They hovered a foot in the air, the purple and green twisting in on themselves in constantly changing patterns.

She studied the flames for a few minutes, enjoying the warmth and the view.

“The flames are the same color as your magic,” she noted.

Alder nodded. “Yeah. I think this place has…attuned to me over the years. The flames were green and black at first. But they started to morph after a bit.” He gave her a conspiratorial look and leaned over slightly. “It’s my infectious personality at work. That’s my leading theory anyway.”

Blair snorted. “I’m sure.”

Her thoughts drifted to his magic, then, following along that path, to the Manor.

At the cave…his second illusion had been the man in the paintings. The one Niall had gone berserk over.

Blair had tried to think of why a dead man from several centuries ago was a traumatic memory for Alder, and she didn’t like most of the answers she thought of.

One possibility was that Alder was older than he appeared. Mages— and Telss— could live very, very long lives, and they didn’t always show it. Though, she wasn’t certain why some ancient mages looked older than others.

That would be the best outcome. Maybe Alder had known the man and simply hadn’t elaborated. That would explain how he had known the path to the exit.

But Alder didn’t usually feel old to her. Not like her parents did. There was a weight to people who had been around for centuries, as if they created their own gravity simply by existing.

Alder didn’t have that, plus he hadn’t been lying when he said his age.

So, either he could lie to her senses, which was extremely unlikely, or there was some other reason for the illusion.

She considered asking Alder outright. He knew that she had seen the illusion. And some things about Alder worried her. Those brief flashes when his scent and emotions changed on a dime, combined with that illusion…

But she owed the debt, not the other way around. Pushing this could be an overstep. If Alder called this off her Pack was up shit creek without a paddle.

So Blair would leave it alone for now. She would wait…and hope that she wasn’t making a mistake.