They returned to the camp, where tension and uncertainty still loomed above the heads of those present. Jessa twiddled her thumbs, staring down at the ground while no one touched a single morsel from the food she prepared. Ardmy had just finished cleaning and applying a potentilla extract to Julien’s wounds, and they were now ready to be dressed. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he began to imbue bandages with healing magic. Anna and Deventh sat quietly by the fire, and after setting down their things near their bedrolls, Lydie and Tatsidi approached them.

“If we may have a word,” said Tatsidi to Deventh, who was tinkering with the ever-fickle trigger of his glove’s crossbow. He glanced up from his work and clipped the small tool into a metal hook at the back of his wrist.

“Is everything all right?” he asked, noting a crackle of irritation in Tatsidi’s voice, as well as a slight grimace baring the tip of one sharp canine.

“We are uncertain,” said the Apo’na, causing Jessa to turn her head to the conversation. She thought better of speaking, though, as Tatsidi continued. “I was of the hope that the four of us might speak in private, if Anna has not lost herself to a far-off land.”

The Helbrund stared into the fire, oblivious to her surroundings. Deventh nudged her with a hand just below the shoulder, taking care not to startle her.

“Yes, I return to rugged ground,” Anna declared, brushing off her blatant dissociation. “Seems I was lost in the flames. What’s the matter, now?”

Deventh stood, motioning to Anna. A grunt companioned her great effort to stand, after which Tatsidi led them to his and Lydie’s remote section of the camp. Out of earshot of the others, they spoke freely.

“What is this about?” asked Anna. In reply, Lydie unclutched her palm and dangled the chain of the necklace from her finger. Both leaders raised a brow – Anna in confusion, and Deventh in acknowledgment. The Helbrund searched for answers in her colleague’s expression, then somewhere in the crook of his thumb which grasped his chin. Her tired face sagged as the realization set in.

“How did that get here?” she asked. “Where did you find that?”

“In the beast’s nest,” said Tatsidi. “We are not so certain this is mere coincidence.”

Deventh held out his hand to Lydie. She snaked the chain into his palm, setting off a twinge in the metallic contacts of his glove.

“It’s definitely enchanted,” he said, “Or cursed. Whoever infused this used a seal to mark their ownership of it. Similar to the other, if not the same.”

“Is this not the same piece that Jessa was to take home?” asked Tatsidi. Deventh shook his head.

“A duplicate, perhaps, but not likely the very same. Dispelling an enchantment as potent as the previous would have crumbled a delicate piece like this to dust after breaking the fortification. Unless, of course, Jessa’s skill as a mage is in the ranks with Nelmis the Divider.” His light jest invoking the first king’s wizard fell flat. “Few possess the capability, let alone the desire to visit the effort of such a reinfusion.”

“And what does any of that mean?” asked Lydie.

“It means that some entity has created more than one of these enchanted pieces deliberately,” concluded Tatsidi. “Now, if only we could determine why trouble clings to the teardrops of these shiny trinkets.”

“This seems to be no coincidence,” Anna concurred. The strange aura as the uradrak fell, the voice ringing with a name she didn’t recognize – maybe these were no hallucinations after all. As Deventh turned the necklace in his hand, the gems caught the light of the distant fire and gleamed with the same luster as the rays which died with the beast.

“You’re quiet, suddenly,” Anna said to him. “Any thoughts?”

“Theories. Nothing worth a spiral down the void of speculation, but a start.”

“What do you mean?”

“Given all that we know, and whatever manner of conspiracy is unfolding, is it not safe to assume that any land barons operating within Grimros might be lending at least a hand of indifference, if not outright complicity?”

“I suppose.”

“I wonder which of those categories would apply to Lord Bisset.” Deventh closed his fingers around the pendant. A wordless agreement passed between everyone to conclude their meeting. The night had already been tiresome enough.

But there was still much to do before they could rest with their thoughts. As they dispersed, Lydie took the opportunity to begin cleaning and cooking her kill. Deventh, noting Anna’s condition as she hobbled back to the fire, decided to speak with Jessa on his own. They found a spot still within range of the campfire’s light where trees rounded a peaty recess. Anticipation crawled in Jessa’s fingers, grasping for a lock of hair.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“How are you holding up?” asked Deventh.

“Wh-what?” asked Jessa. “Aren’t you the one who just got back from fighting an uradrak?”

“That oughtn’t invalidate any queries on how you’re faring. You took quite the leap from your nest.”

“I—don’t mean to be rude, but I assumed from all the secrecy you had something else to discuss.”

“You’d be correct. But the thought to check on your wellbeing crossed my mind as well. No pressure if you’d like to get straight to business.”

“I would.” Her anxiety would not be quelled until he spoke his intent.

“Very well.” He showed her the object of curiosity, hooking it on his fingers. The spark of recognition sent her heart plummeting into her stomach, speechless as she awaited an explanation. Deventh recounted to her the details from the meeting with Lydie and Tatsidi, allowing her time afterward to digest the information.

“I see,” she said. “I thought you were going to tell me the first one followed us. Though, I guess this isn’t too much of a relief.”

“It certainly invites more concern than consolation,” said Deventh. “More curiosity as to the origin and purpose of these pieces. Those being conundrums of their own, another question grows more intriguing as well – if you’ve left the first one in your father’s hands, where will it go from there, and why?”

Tangled and constricted in a web of possibilities, Jessa found no words. Every intelligible reply slipped away from her, buried beneath the dread thought that Deventh’s question might have been accusatory. Her nervous fidgeting intensified, alternating between combing her hair and pinching her skirt.

“Apologies for mentioning your family while everything is still fresh,” said Deventh, eyeing her frantic hands, “As for the necklace, same as the last – would you mind applying that suppression spell?”

“Oh,” said Jessa, ceasing her fidgeting. “Of course.” She took the necklace in one hand, laid three fingers on top of it with the other. A controlled exhale lulled the magic within to a temporary slumber. Deventh thanked her as she passed it back to him. He turned away to start heading back, but Jessa stayed behind.

“Deventh,” she said, “I lost someone very special to me.”

He stopped and turned to face her again. Preferring not to make any assumptions about the meaning of “lost,” he awaited an explanation.

“Elyza,” said Jessa, choking out a laugh as she recalled only one brief mention of her to Deventh. She’d always kept their relationship a secret, especially from those most inclined to disapprove. Above all others, Dronvari culture was rife with such prejudices, yet here she stood confessing to him, self-preservation be damned. “Last I spoke of her, I think I called her my study partner. That’s half of the truth.”

Having second thoughts, Jessa paused and tightened her lips. The shudder of doubt in her voice was not lost on Deventh. He crossed his arms over his chest, giving a slight tilt of a listening ear in her direction.

“Go on,” he encouraged. Jessa made herself small, hiding her chin behind clasped hands.

“She’s alive, I’m sure,” she said. “But she’s gone, and she left nothing but a note saying I would never find her. Of course, I still looked – I searched everywhere I could think of, all throughout Oakenhaven.”

“Did something happen between the two of you? An argument? A falling out?”

“Worse, I think. I drew a line she couldn’t cross. Elyza was one of my last anchors to home after my mother died. I endured my father’s abuse and domineering to be with her. I would have endured nearly anything – but I couldn’t just give up on my dream to find my own path.”

“Is that what she asked of you?”

“Yes. She didn’t approve of my joining the guild.”

“Well, it’s no mystery why. A guild of our stature is not exactly the picture of stability. Anyone aiming to protect you would recognize that.”

“Maybe, but you and Anna and the others gave me a chance no one else would. You showed me I can stand on my own. Of course I’m going to return that faith.” Raising her chin, Jessa looked up and met his gaze. “I think Elyza’s love was contingent on my willingness to let her shelter me. That seems to be my luck.”

“Maybe in Drondaris you’d find agreement about luck. It’s far from unusual to maintain a subconscious adherence to familiarity, for better or worse. Trading your father’s thumb for another was a natural progression, but it wasn’t your predestined lot.”

“It sounds like you’re saying I chose to keep myself in a cycle of misery.” Jessa’s face heated up, her cheeks flushing with irritation. Her misinterpretation came as no surprise to Deventh.

“Is it worse, then, that you had freedom to choose and to act when you finally became aware of a problem? Don’t misunderstand – the only intended implication was that you were drawn to what you knew and sought comfort in it. It would be foolish to deny that unfavorable circumstances befall everyone beyond control from time to time. But presently, you’re here – you had an out, a choice not to lie down to fate and continue accepting that cycle, and you seized it.”

Loose leaves feathered down from a shaken branch as an owl took flight, calling into the darkness. In the distance, the others at the camp had livened up a great deal, talking, eating, laughing together while Lydie kept diligent watch over the spitted pheasant. For the first time, Jessa found no relief in speaking with Deventh. She wasn’t sure whether she disagreed with his sentiments, but perhaps she’d expected too much from confiding in him so deeply while her wounds were still raw.

“I’d like to go back now,” she said.

“Aye.” Deventh took a step back, giving a sympathetic nod. “Sorry to hear about Elyza. Truly.”

Jessa lingered, watching him walk away. She pressed the cuff of her sleeve to the corner of her eye, soaking up a teardrop as it formed.