Moving the house was, at least, something to focus on. It was a thorny problem that had other thorns growing off of it, which was a good feature in a problem, at least so far as Alfric was concerned. The long legs meant that they could get above most obstacles, though they would have to route around places where the primary road was through a forest, covered by branches that would block their path. They could go through fields, if they got permission from the local farmers, which Alfric didn’t think would pose that much of a problem, especially since the feet of the house didn’t press down as much as they should have given the extreme weight. They would need to find places to set the house down when they rested, since the house couldn’t be trusted to move itself through the night, and there were going to be continual problems of finding food from local places, doing laundry, and all kinds of other things.
It had been fun to find all the things that would need to be strapped down for the move, and had taken quite a bit of time. All around the house were now signs that it could move, leather straps and latches on the drawers, as well as hidden things like screws to anchor dressers and bookcases to the walls. All the beds were locked in place now, and the windows would hold firm. It filled Alfric with a sense of satisfaction, and his childhood dream of being a sailor was coming to fruition, just not in the way that he’d expected it would. He was doing something that no one else was doing, that no one else could do, and that was worth something to him.
Alfric sat with his legs dangling out the front door as it moved, the better to direct the house as it made its way. They were past Liberfell, though still well within the region, and a small boy with a riding bird was acting as their scout, running ahead and checking the path for places that might give them some grief. In some ways, moving the house was an echo of moving the huge wardrobe, which they were leaving behind in Pucklechurch for the time being, in part because it would sit there and passively collect money through their arrangement with the general store.
“How goes it?” asked Hannah as she sat down next to Alfric.
“Just fine,” said Alfric. “Perfect weather, which I credit Isra for, and a nice trundling pace.”
“You’re over your homesickness?” asked Hannah.
Alfric laughed. “No nausea, no, and I really don’t think that’s going to stick.”
The gentle swaying of the house had made Alfric a bit green in the gills, but he’d adjusted to it, and drank some tea that Isra had prepared from roots, which calmed his stomach. He’d found it mildly embarrassing, given his position as the leader of the party, as though the nausea from the swaying gait of the house was something that he should be able to think his way around, or otherwise overcome through sheer will. Instead, it had passed on its own, but it had taken three days. He wasn’t sure what he’d have done if it had persisted, other than borrowing some form of flight and following the house that way.
“I wanted to talk, to make sure that you’re doing well with things,” said Hannah. “Not a formal clerical appointment, per se, but I hear more from the others than you.”
“Do they come to you sometimes?” asked Alfric. “Is that … okay with you?”
“Oh, ay,” said Hannah. “I’m out of the profession, but I’ve still got the trainin’, and the way I figure, they do need someone to talk to in confidence, since we can’t always have each other. And since I’m not a cleric in the traditional sense, I can say some things that I wouldn’t dare if I were actin’ on behalf of the temple.”
“I’m fine,” said Alfric. “Nothing much to report, I guess.”
“Always such phrasin’,” said Hannah, shaking her head. “It’s not a ‘report’, I’m askin’ about how you feel. And I can’t tell whether that was a brush off, or whether you just don’t think like that.”
“It wasn’t a brush off,” said Alfric. He considered it for a moment. “I miss the Wildlands, and I’m eager for our next dungeon in the hopes that Verity can get her technique under control.” It was optimistic to call it a technique, he knew. “I think the moving house is wonderful, but we’re only moving with purpose until we get to Plenarch, so we can be close to the wizarding school, and I’m looking on the horizon and seeing … that I might grow restless again.”
“It’s a diversion, you mean,” said Hannah.
“No,” said Alfric. “It’s a wonderful adventure, but it’s an adventure that will last us a month at most, and I want a second adventure lined up after it. I want a whole set of them, if I’m honest.”
“Hence you thinkin’ about turnin’ the house into a boat, so we can sail across to Kiromo,” said Hannah.
Mizuki’s cat, Tabbins, came to sit between them. He looked out at the road from the swaying house, as though he’d decided to be a part of the road-watching with them. The cat had been quite frightened the first day, hiding under the couch and refusing to come out no matter how much Mizuki tried to coax him, but by the third day, Tabbins had acclimated. Now he walked around the house with an imperious air, and gave a sense of superiority about the whole thing, as though to say ‘Oh yes, houses? They move sometimes, didn’t you know?’ Alfric petted the cat, who flicked his tail.
“I don’t know,” said Alfric. “A part of me thinks that I should be dealing with the chrononauts. There’s a sickness there, I think, a hypocrisy at best and an abuse of power at worst. I think they raised me with ambitious ideals, but now I need to hold them to task, and I’m really not a political animal, so I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
“It weighs on you,” Hannah nodded. “But I’m not so sure it’s a problem that’s for Alfric Overguard to solve. You’re the type to see somethin’ wrong and go barrelling into it headlong, but there’s somethin’ to ignorin’ things that are bigger than us, beyond the scope of our power to change. It’s somethin’ that you could live with, I think.”
Alfric shrugged. He wasn’t sure he wanted to live with it. His aunt Penelope had seen an injustice with the bastlefolk and how they were handled by society at large, and then devoted herself singularly to the task of raising and caring for the babies pulled from dungeons. He didn’t quite agree that this one particular issue should be the thing that Penelope cared about, but he admired that she’d chosen a purpose for herself.
“I think for now, I’ll keep myself focused on what’s in front of me,” said Alfric. “I’m only eighteen.”
“How old, countin’ the undone days?” asked Hannah.
“I have no idea,” said Alfric. “Twenty-two, maybe.”
“Mmm,” said Hannah. “As old as Mizuki then.”
“You’re using that voice,” said Alfric.
“I think of all the numbers you could have picked, you picked that one,” said Hannah. “Is it true? Four years of undone days for you?”
Alfric shrugged. “I don’t think I ever really counted, but yes, as soon as I could do it without being timesick, I was using the undone days to learn and train.” He hesitated. “Maybe not four years.”
“I don’t think the difference in age matters to her,” said Hannah.
“No,” said Alfric. “And chrononauts don’t count like that either, a ‘hypothetical’ age.”
“It actually worked out between Isra and Verity, havin’ them be together for a spell,” said Hannah. “A bit awkward for a moment, but they worked it out.”
“You think they’re going to stay apart?” asked Alfric.
“Well, I think it was a fine rule to say that we shouldn’t date each other,” said Hannah. “But if we do end up datin’ each other, I think it’s a good rule you’re allowed only one break up. Back and forth, that, I think, would grate.”
Alfric looked behind him, to make sure that they weren’t nearby. “Likely it would take them forever to get back together.”
“I don’t think so,” said Hannah. “Isra understands better now, at least. But I can’t repeat what they’ve told me, of course.”
“Of course,” nodded Alfric. “You and Marsh?”
Hannah sighed. “Ay,” she said.
“That means it’s going well?” asked Alfric.
“It is,” said Hannah. She shifted. “Do you know, I resist the urge to gush about him?”
“Why?” asked Alfric.
“I don’t know, really,” said Hannah. “I think I find it annoyin’ when other people gush about their partners, when it’s a stream of complimentary things about how sweet and gentle such and such is, how comfortable to be with, how rough, at times, in a good way — I think I don’t like to hear that private talk, since I feel glad, in the abstract, but there’s no way to relate to it. It’s like Mizuki talkin’ about a piece of music that she likes, has she done that with you?”
Alfric laughed. “She has. And no, I never understand it. It’s cute though.”
“‘And then at this other part it’s ‘bram ba ba bum!’’” Hannah imitated. “Would be easier if she had a gift for song, but alas.”
“I like her voice,” said Alfric. “She can do justice to some ditties.”
“Well, I don’t want to sound like that when I talk about Marsh, but then I pen the feelin’ all in, share it just with him, and so I stay silent because that’s what’s on my mind,” said Hannah. “I think I shouldn’t though. It’s embarrassing how much I love him, honestly.” She had gone a bit pink about the cheeks.
“I’m happy for you,” said Alfric. He put his arm around her, and she leaned into the hug a bit, which was nice, because Alfric had felt awkward about it.
“He thinks I should go back to the church though,” said Hannah.
“Oh?” asked Alfric. “But you haven’t floated the idea at the dinner table, which means it’s either not too serious a consideration for you, or a very serious consideration.”
“I’m giving it thought,” said Hannah. “Not now, not even in the next year or two, but maybe, eventually. The Church welcomes clerics back, so long as their connection is strong.”
“He wants you to settle down?” asked Alfric, frowning a bit.
“He knows what Garos means to me,” said Hannah, shaking her head. She looked out at the road ahead of them, which was mercifully straight. “I talked to the girl who replaced me in Pucklechurch, and it made me feel … oh, I don’t know. Like I was missing out.”
A few months ago, Alfric might have felt like his career as a dungeoneer was threatened, but he was more calm about it now. If Hannah left to go be a part of her church again, they would find a way to go on without her. After the last dungeon they’d done, he didn’t feel the burning need to go again, it was just the tug of adventure, and as the moving house was showing, he could find his own adventures.
Before he could give some words of encouragement to Hannah — not that she would ever need them from the likes of him — the boy Bib came down around the bend toward them, prodding his riding bird along to its top speed. He came to a halt in front of the house, then turned the bird around so the house could keep walking.
“River up ahead!” Bib called. “You’re going to have to get your feet wet!”
“There’s no bridge?” asked Alfric.
“Not that you’d want to put your weight on!” said Bib with a happy smile. “You’d crack that thing right in half!”
“Thanks!” said Alfric. “We’ll figure it out!”
“Lunch is soon!” called Hannah. “We’ll be stoppin’, there’s plenty for you!”
Bib waved her off and then sped back down the road, presumably to look at the river crossing again. The boy liked to give advice, though Alfric only occasionally found it useful. They had maps, entad and otherwise, but the purpose of having a runner was partly so they could deal with anything unexpected, like a lizzo pulling a cart or something else they would need to move out of the way of.
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“What’s lunch?” asked Alfric.
“It’s Verity’s turn,” said Hannah. “So I don’t know. Sandwiches, if we’re lucky.”
“She’s not bad,” said Alfric.
“Sorry, but she’s not good,” said Hannah. “I said I’d do all the food, but she seemed to have somethin’ in her craw about equitable livin’.”
That was, more or less, how it had gone. Before wizarding school had started, Mizuki had said she might just make them a lunch that could be reheated on the stove, but once school was in swing, it was clear that it was going to take far more of her time and energy than she’d planned. That had left a discussion of what the other four would be doing for lunch, and they had settled on taking turns, including Verity, who seemed a bit offended that they’d meant to leave her out.
In her defense, she was getting better in a hurry, and she wasn’t usually overreaching too far in terms of what she decided to tackle. Lunch was a small meal anyhow, and they could afford some mistakes.
Lunch was fish, fresh-caught, and if it was much better than Verity was usually capable of, that was because Isra had been in the kitchen with her. The skin on the trout was crispy, and it came with roasted vegetables and a rather small serving of roasted potatoes. There were nits to pick as far as the preparation went, perhaps a bit too much salt, and the carrots might have been better with the leaves removed, but the way a person got better at something was practice, and the best way to practice cooking was to actually cook things. Verity was good at practice, at least, even if she wasn’t good at cooking yet.
“Seems a bit backwards to have Mizuki teach Isra to cook, then Isra teach Verity,” said Hannah, who was cleaning her plate in spite of her misgivings about Verity’s efforts.
“Mizuki’s not done teaching me,” said Isra. “It was the blind leading the blind.”
“It’s quite good,” said Marsh as he crunched into a potato.
“I think I can at least see the flaws,” said Verity, who was picking at her plate and taking only small, occasional bites. “In theory, if I just don’t make the same mistake twice, I’ll run out of mistakes that I can possibly make. Right?”
“In theory,” said Alfric. “Though sometimes you don’t even know why you made a mistake, only that a mistake was made. Or you need someone to point out where things went wrong.” He shrugged. “Thank you for lunch, if I haven’t said so already.”
“You’re welcome,” said Verity. “But alright, perhaps I should find some other way to pull my weight.”
“For what it’s worth, I think this is your best effort so far,” said Hannah.
“That’s damning with faint praise,” said Isra.
“Well, maybe next time it will be sandwiches, but that’s hardly cooking,” said Verity. “You could make sandwiches on your own.”
“There’s somethin’ to be said for food you don’t need much work for,” said Hannah. “I’m not pullin’ out all the stops every time, that’s for certain.”
“Do I need to be a part of this?” asked Marsh. “I don’t think I was around when you decided to switch cooking.”
“Can you cook?” asked Alfric.
“I’m a pyro,” said Marsh.
“Sounds like he’s dodgin’ the question,” said Hannah with a laugh.
“There’s a difference between heating things up and cooking them,” said Alfric.
“I can do all the pyro classics,” said Marsh. “But that would be enough to get by, right? It’s meats on sticks, mostly. Flame, which is better than the heating of a stove. A bit of char.”
“That does sound good,” said Verity.
“Can I take a turn?” asked Bib.
Alfric looked at the boy, who they’d invited in for a meal. He had eaten everything on his plate in a hurry, a full meal even for an adult, but then again, he’d been riding the bird all day, putting it through its paces.
“No, Bib,” said Alfric. “This is the last leg of the journey for you.”
“Aw,” said Bib. “Come on, you need someone to scout ahead, that’s just common sense.”
“I’m not sure it is,” said Hannah. “But we can’t take you from your family.”
“My dad said it was okay,” said Bib, frowning. “He said that you’re only a kid once, and if you want to follow around a walking house, you do you. But then I told him I wasn’t following the house, I was guiding it.”
“Where would you sleep?” asked Isra, smiling at Alfric’s expression. Where the boy would sleep was not the primary objection to having a child along with them.
“I have a hammock,” said Bib. “I could set it up when we make camp for the night.”
“No,” said Alfric. “We’re not looking after this child.” He almost said that they had enough people in the house as it was, but he worried that Marsh would take it the wrong way.
“I don’t need looking after,” said Bib. “I can take care of myself. I can even cook some. I make pasta for my folks sometimes.” He looked at Alfric. “Please? Wouldn’t you have wanted to travel along with a walking house when you were ten?”
“I would,” Alfric admitted.
“Mizuki would be ecstatic,” said Hannah.
“Well, it’s not up to me,” said Alfric. “We’ll have to talk to your father to make sure it’s okay, and I’d want to discuss it as a party, then get everyone’s input.”
“It wouldn’t be hard to bring him home,” said Isra.
“Even with the bird?” asked Alfric.
Isra gave him a pitying look. “You think a bird can get the best of me?” she asked.
“I suppose not,” said Alfric. He turned to Bib. “Provisionally —”
Bib gave out a little yip, then got up from his seat and brought his plate to the kitchen. “I need to go ask my mom real quick, I’ll be back later tonight.”
“You said your father said it would be alright,” said Alfric.
“Yeah …” said Bib. “But you know how it is. I won’t be gone long.” He hesitated. “Do the river crossing without me, try to pick good spots for the feet to come down.”
“Will do,” said Alfric. He wasn’t that concerned about it, but the boy appreciated feeling like he’d had some input.
The river crossing ended up going smoothly, as it was a creek more than a river, and narrow enough that Alfric could simply have the house step from one side to the other. It left a deep footprint in the muddy bank, but that was it, and then they were off down the road once more. From his spot at the front door, Alfric spotted people from time to time, and spoke with them a bit, trying his best to be friendly. The friendliness was something that the others were a bit more suited to, but he did his best. It was easier when people had technical questions he could answer, like about the legality of the operation, or whether they would go on through the night, but he found it more difficult when they just wanted to chat — to gawk, really.
It was late in the afternoon when Mizuki got home, and she was so wiped out that she guiltily asked someone else to make dinner. They were happy to oblige, since they hadn’t really been doing much all day, but this wasn’t the first time she’d begged off.
While Hannah and Isra cooked, Alfric found Mizuki laying on her bed. She hadn’t changed out of her robes yet. He liked how they looked on her, though it did feel a little like she was playing dress up rather than a serious wizard, since she hadn’t settled into the new outfit yet.
“Pre-dinner nap?” he asked.
“Nah,” said Mizuki. “I’m just beat.”
“I’ll give you some time,” said Alfric.
“No, no,” said Mizuki. “Come in, lay with me for a bit.”
When she scooted over, Alfric took a spot on her bed. It was the largest bed in the house, one that had once belonged to her parents, and they could comfortably lay together without touching.
“I think I’m finally rounding the corner,” said Mizuki.
“Yeah?” asked Alfric. “You’re doing well?”
“It’s impossible to know,” said Mizuki. “I feel like I’m caught up, more or less, but it’s just thinking, day in and day out, and if you zone out while you’re doing the exercises, or during a lesson, you’re missing the entire point. Today was the first day I didn’t feel worn out by all the thinking, like I wasn’t just ground to dust by the end of it. I haven’t been moving around much at all, and I just felt so drained.”
“You’ll build up some stamina,” said Alfric. “That’s all it will take. Personally, if I wasn’t moving the house, I think I would feel incredibly cooped up with nothing to do.”
“And why didn’t it work out for you to become a wizard?” asked Mizuki. “You tried, right?”
“I put in my six months,” said Alfric. “Eight months, actually, though not all of that was formal schooling.”
“And your pet rock never loved you back?” asked Mizuki.
“Nope,” said Alfric. “I wasn’t at a proper school though, I just had a tutor, and we were doing the minimum amount to get me to the point where I would be able to call on the stones, rather than getting some of the background you have. The aptitude runs in families though, or seems to, and without the aptitude, which I definitely didn’t have, it would have meant running uphill. It was a grind, a long, slow grind.”
Mizuki groaned.
“You know there’s nothing keeping you there, if you hate it,” said Alfric. He tried to keep his voice gentle.
“I think that actually makes it even worse, knowing that I’m the one doing this to myself,” said Mizuki. “But I don’t hate it, and I’ve got friends at school now, though … I was listening to them talk today, and they’re all babies.”
“Hopefully you didn’t say that to them,” said Alfric.
“No,” said Mizuki. “But some of them treat me like I’m their mother, which is hilarious but also mortifying. There’s a girl who’s fourteen in one of my classes. I feel so protective of them, but also … jealous?”
“Fourteen isn’t that young,” said Alfric. “You’re not literally old enough to be her mother.”
“Figuratively though,” said Mizuki. “I have friends who have five-year-olds. And I found out yesterday that one of my professors is a year younger than me. She’s a low rank one, but still, it’s humbling.”
“Mmm,” said Alfric. “I had always wondered how I would feel about seeing some rising star who was younger than me. There was a time when I thought I was a rising star.”
Mizuki sat up a bit. “You still are though, right? I mean, when I have my next day off, we’re going into a dungeon and we’re going to crack them wide open, right?”
“Maybe,” said Alfric. “Or maybe Verity won’t be able to do it, and we’ll get something so difficult that we can’t possibly handle it, and the day will be a reset.” He sighed. “And then we’ll try subbing her out, and narrow it down, or we’ll do more dungeons, with me feeding her information, and if you thought that wizarding school was a grind … I guess you won’t be experiencing most of it.”
“A return to dungeons,” said Mizuki. “It feels like it’s been longer than it’s really been.”
“We’re ostensibly a dungeoneering party,” said Alfric. “I don’t know how it’s going to feel, going back.”
“I think it’ll feel great, personally,” said Mizuki. “You let me know when we can slip in some training. I don’t want to go in soft.”
“You’ve been worn out from school,” said Alfric.
“Nah,” said Mizuki. “Like I said, I’ve turned the corner. I helped someone understand the lesson today, and I’m pretty sure that I was right about what I said.” She looked over at him. “And I have the exercises down, mostly. Maybe we can go for a run alongside the house, or do some sparring.”
“I’d like that, if you’re up for it,” said Alfric. “Strong heart, strong lungs, those are an important foundation for dungeoneering.”
Mizuki sat up. “Well, I’m going to change into something more comfortable, though maybe it’s a sign I’m starting to become a real wizard that the robes are comfortable. Like I’m not just an imposter wearing them to look cool?” She looked at Alfric. “Are you doing okay? You look so comfy there, like you could fall asleep.”
“I’ve been moving the house all day,” said Alfric. “It’s thinking work.”
Mizuki had said that she was going to change, but she hadn’t said it in a flirtatious way. She’d been less flirty since starting wizarding school, either because she had a lot of work on her plate, or because she was feeling old. He missed the old way it had been, even though it had sometimes felt like they were moments away from making a mistake.
She’d been very respectful on undone days, flirty, but not doing anything that crossed a line. He had worried about that, early on, and his fears had proven unfounded. It made him appreciate her more, because he’d set boundaries, and she’d listened, listened even when she knew the day was going to be undone. Maybe that shouldn’t have been so attractive to him, but if Mizuki could be both fun and impulsive, and also not blow things up on undone days …
“Alright, I’m going,” said Alfric as Mizuki looked through her dresser.
“Or you could stay,” said Mizuki, who was moving aside shirts and pants. “Just close your eyes or something.” She looked over at him, pausing what she was doing. She smiled at him. “You know, I trust you so much that if you said ‘I won’t open my eyes’ I have zero doubt that you’d keep them shut?”
“I guess that’s good,” said Alfric. “I think you would peep.”
“Oh, I would definitely peep,” said Mizuki. “What harm would a little peep do? Maybe if you said you really didn’t want me looking at you, that would be different, but if I said ‘oh, I’ll close my eyes’, then yeah, I’m human, I’d crack an eyelid.” She returned to the drawer and pulled out some clothes. “But see, I think it’s one of those things where you know that, so it’s okay. If you were undressing, you’d expect me to peek, unless, I guess, you were very strict and serious about it.”
“Well, I’ll go, rather than test my morals,” said Alfric. He gave her a smile. “We’ll have to test your theory some other time.”
She seemed slightly flustered as he left, and he found that a bit gratifying.
The house had settled in a field that was lying fallow, with the permission of a local farmer, and with Marsh there, had a full table for dinner. Dinner was oversized dumplings, stuffed with finely chopped meat and vegetables. Each was almost a meal by itself, and they couldn’t be eaten in a single bite, which Mizuki complained broke the fundamental covenant of dumplings.
A feeling of contentment settled over Alfric as they chattered. The trip was going well so far, he thought, now that his homesickness was over with, and now that Mizuki felt like she’d settled into school life. Bib was going to be a part of their trip, it seemed, and while he was a scrawny rascal, knowing what was coming was of some help. There were plans on the horizon, ways to make the best of the trip, maps to be consulted, attractions to visit, and all kinds of things. They were beyond Liberfell, to places they’d never visited before. Verity was idly talking about possibly doing some shows on the road, little one-night-only concerts that she could put on at the random villages they stopped at, mostly to hone her craft and get some honest responses to the songs she’d been writing for the next round of ectad inscribing.
And in a few days, they’d do the next dungeon, and if it didn’t work out, Alfric wouldn’t sweat it.