The orphanage matron, Ammata, ushered them into the small dining hall. There weren’t many children in the Sanctum’s orphanage, as it was mostly reserved for those whose parents had belonged to the guild, but perhaps fifteen were already seated at the table and digging into bowls filled with something hot and steaming.

Jasper almost didn’t recognize Kefir and Aryah. The boy had grown several inches in height, and his frame had filled out, but the girl had made an even bigger change. From her size and scrawny condition, they’d assumed she was around 7 or 8, but after a year with sufficient food and care, he guessed she was more likely in her early teens.

Their heads were bowed low over the steaming food so the children didn’t notice them until Ammata cleared her throat. Aryah tore her gaze away from the food, and her brow scrunched up in momentary confusion, followed by an expression of delight. “Ihra?!”

Bolting from her chair, she wrapped her arms around Ihra, who hugged her back. Releasing the elf, her eyes darted to Jasper and there was no sign of recognition there. “And who’s this?” she asked Ihra.

He felt a pang of disappointment but brushed it off quickly. It wasn’t like they’d been particularly close, and he had changed in appearance. “I’m still Jasper, just look a little different,” he replied.

“Oh,” the girl replied, seemingly at a loss for words, before she turned back to Ihra.

The matron made room for them at the table and handed out the bag of treats they’d brought out. The girl peppered Ihra with questions about their travels as they ate, while Jasper and Kefir sat largely in silence. And as they reached the bottom of their bowls, Ihra finally broached the question. “The matron said there was a couple interested in adopting you. Have you met them? Do they seem nice?”

“They seem nice,” the girl replied swiftly, but Jasper thought he detected a note of hesitation in her voice.

Ihra sensed it too, and leaned forward. “Is there something wrong?”

“No-o…they live here in the Sanctum and Kefir and I really like them. Iṣrapā is a baker and offered to apprentice me in that, and S̆ams̆āb is a smith, so he makes good money. It’s just…”

“Just what?” Ihra prodded.

“Every once in a while, when he thinks I’m not looking, I’ve caught S̆ams̆āb looking at me with an odd expression.”

Ihra’s features hardened. “Then we’ll say no.”

“No,” the girl protested. “It’s our best - our only chance,” she added with a half-sob.

“We have more than enough gold to support you,” Ihra offered, uncharacteristically unconcerned about the money. “It won’t be an issue-“

“But it’s not a family,” the girl interjected. “Kefir’s too young to remember what’s it like, but I remember having parents. I…I want that again.”

Ihra started to object, but Jasper grabbed her arm. “Maybe we should meet these people first.”

“But if this man is a pervert-” she replied angrily, but he cut her off.

“We don’t know that yet. I’ve got my truth spell, remember? If there’s anything wrong, we’ll figure it out and if not, this is what the children want.” He nodded at Kefir, who’d abandoned eating a hot roll to watch them with worried eyes. “That’s what you want, isn’t it buddy?”

“I like S̆ams̆āb,” he replied shyly. Reaching a sticky hand into his pocket, he pulled out a small metal figurine and waved it in front of them. “He makes me toys in his shop.”

“See,” Jasper continued. “Let’s talk with them first and then, if you still don’t feel good about it, we can pull the plug.”

Ihra looked unconvinced, but after a second look at the Kefir’s entreating voice, she finally crumbled. “Fine, we’ll talk to them.”

----------------------------------------

When breakfast drew to a close, the matron had the children start washing their dishes and, leaving an older girl in charge, led them out to meet the family. “S̆ams̆āb just had a big order come in for 100 spears, so he’s too busy to leave the smithy today,” she explained, as she guided them through the village square, past the guild hall, and down a block on the other side where the quaint shops of the square gave way to tradesmen’s workshops.

The clank of metal against metal led them to the smithy. S̆ams̆āb’s forge was out in the open air, with a small shack beside that featured a sampling of his wares. A few weapons were on display, but most of the items were more mundane: nails, horseshoes, and simple metal cutlery and plates. A dozen yards behind the smith sat a modest cottage, with a cheerful thatched roof and adjoining stable.

A man stood at the smithy, his hammer rising and falling with a rhythmic clang. His body was caked with sweat and grime, but Jasper could tell he was a handsome man who cleaned up, with shaggy blonde hair and dark green eyes that spoke of Fey heritage.

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“S̆ams̆āb,” Ammata called as they approached, “these are Kefir and Aryah’s patrons. They wanted to meet you.”

“One moment.” The man pounded the glowing metal spearhead on his anvil with a few more blows, evening out an unnatural bulge, and plunged into the water behind him. A cloud of steam rose up, but he ignored it, and grabbing a dirty handkerchief, wiped the beads of sweat off his face as he approached them. “Nice to meet you,” he said, offering a friendly nod. Craning his head over his shoulder, he raised his voice. “Iṣripā, Amatta’s here from the orphanage.”

There was a slightly worried look in his eyes as he turned back to face them, picking up on Ihra’s unfriendly glare. “Is there something wrong, Ammata?” His eyes met Jasper’s as he continued to speak. “I’m not sure what your relation with Aryah and Kefir is, but my wife and I would love to take them. Unless you’re planning to settle down somewhere?”

Unsure what Ihra might say, Jasper hastened to speak up. “No, nothing’s wrong. We just wanted to get a chance to speak with you before we sign off - make sure you pass the vibe check and all that.”

“The vibe check?” The man looked puzzled but had no time to question Jasper further as his wife hurried out of the house, and nestled close to him.

“Did they agree, S̆ams̆āb,” she asked breathlessly.

“They want to talk to us,” the man grunted. “Well, come inside. I’m sure Iṣripā has something whipped up already.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Ihra cut in. “We just to know what you want with the children, and why you’ve been looking at Aryah.”

Jasper cringed at her aggressive approach, but he also understood; she’d been taken by someone that tried to exploit her, after all.

“Look at Aryah?” The man repeated slowly. “What do you mean-“

“She said she’s caught you staring,” Ihra cut him off.

“No,” he said, his nose wrinkling with disgust. “I have no ill intentions toward the lass.”

Jasper hadn’t had his truth spell ready, but he jumped in. “Can you repeat that? I’ve got a spell that will ease my friend’s concern.”

“Some sort of truth spell?” A touch of anger ignited in the man’s eyes, and Jasper thought he was going to refuse, but his wife touched him gently on the arm. “Darling, please. Don’t let your pride make you do something you’ll regret.”

After a moment’s hesitation, he nodded his head. “Fine.” As Jasper cast the spell, he continued. “I have no intention of ever harming Aryah or Kefir or doing anything remotely inappropriate with them. Happy?”

Jasper was, for the spell said the man had spoken truthfully, but Ihra’s suspicions weren’t entirely quelled. “Then why do you want them? You’re more than young enough to have children of your own.”

“That’s none of your business,” the man replied gruffly, but again the woman brushed his arm.

“Just tell them,” she entreated him. “If it will make them agree, it’s worth it.”

“Are you sure,” he asked, meeting her eyes. “I didn’t think you wanted people to know.”

“I’m sure.”

The smith dabbed at his forehead again with the handkerchief before continuing. “The truth is, I think the lass may be mine. I’m from Khiryat myself and…” he glanced awkwardly at his wife, “When I was still my father’s apprentice, Damqīselen and I were courting."

“Damqīselen?” Jasper interrupted.

“Aryah’s mother,” he explained. “After I completed my apprenticeship, I had to leave. I was my father’s second son, and there just wasn’t enough work in the village for three smiths, so I came here and met Iṣrīpa.” He flashed his wife a fond smile.

“I wasn’t the only man Damqīselen was seeing; she also went out with a few others, including that bastard Dūrs̆am who eventually married her, so I’m not certain I’m the father, but the time, well.” He grimaced, “The timing fits and her eyes, they're like my mother’s. I didn’t even know Aryah existed, but when I saw her, I just…knew.”

Ihra glanced at Jasper, the question obvious in her eyes, and he nodded. “He’s telling the truth.”

The anger melted off her face as she turned back to the smith and his wife. “I’m sorry for doubting you. I just…feared the worst.”

“Does that mean you’ll sign off on the adoption?” Iṣrīpa asked.

“As long as the children want to - and I think they do,” she added with a small smile, “then, yes.” She fixed her eyes on the smith. “But you need to tell her. Aryah likes you both, but she noticed the staring. If you don’t tell her, she’ll assume the worst too.”

The smith grimaced and rubbed the back of his head with his hand. “I hate to do that. What if I’m wrong?”

“And if you are - would that change things,” Ihra questioned.

He thought for a moment, then shook his head. “I guess not. I don’t want to leave Damqīselen’s children in an orphanage - no offense to you, Ammata.”

The matron shook her head. “I do my best, but I am no replacement for a home.”

They talked a bit longer with their villagers before departing, and Jasper kept the spell running just in case there was any chance of deception, but he spotted nothing but sincerity from the man and his wife.

Then they returned to the orphanage and Ihra spoke with the children again. She didn’t break the man’s secret, not technically, but she told the girl enough that Jasper guessed the poor smith would be hounded until he told the truth. And then, with the children’s approval, the two signed the papers the guild had provided.

On the way out, they stopped by the guild and registered the cards the guard had given them. Jasper doubted they were likely going to do much work for the guild in the future, but there was no point in getting it, just in case.

It was still broad daylight in the sanctum when they reached the gates, but the darkness of night awaited them in the city beyond. There was no sign of Tsia or Erin, so they headed toward the market.

Many of the stalls were already packed away for the day, but a few food stalls remained open, catering to the many workers who were on their way back home. Their friends weren’t there either, and, despite asking around, none had seen them. “Where do you think,” Jasper asked, as the two paused at the center of the plaza. “Do you think they found an inn for the night?”

Ihra swallowed the chewy chunks of monkey she’d torn off the skewer before replying. “Bet they went to the enclave?”

“Crap.” As soon as Jasper heard it, he knew she was right and, unfortunately, it was an hour away. “Let’s get going then.”