That night I returned exhausted and famished. Matilda’s absence made our four-bedroom house feel empty. Not only that, I learned Granny Eleonore was a terrible cook. Even without proper herbs and spices, Matilda had always made sure to thoroughly cook food. Granny left parts of it raw and cold. Her attention span was like a squirrel’s thanks to old age. I’d gotten so used to having warm meals waiting for me that my first instinct was to complain.

But I was eating meat. Monster wolf meat… but meat.

I was lucky to be eating this at all. Raw or not, this shit beat unseasoned vegetables any day. No one except the hunters and their families had much, and what was left was being heavily rationed. As for us, we had a few more days’ worth before we were down to the last of what we’d preserved.

No one felt like speaking. Eating semi-raw potatoes and very rare beef at least put something in my belly after my card’s effects increased my hunger three-fold. Granny Eleonore finished her plate and started working on knitting something. Trent poured himself glass after glass of water, hoping by some miracle it would turn into wine and he could not feel whatever he was feeling anymore.

Maybe if she’d just stayed just a maid, it wouldn’t have hit him so hard.

After finishing my plate, I got up and cleaned it outside with a bucket. No one was going to do it for me anymore. Compared to all the work I was doing as a chief’s assistant, this felt trivial. Why had it bothered me so much doing the dishes when I was Joey? We had running water, scrubbing sponges, and industrial-grade soap. I took it for granted. I took it all for granted.

I slapped myself hard across the face.

Stop it. Before you catch the humiliating disease going around in this stupid village.

* * *

Elfindor didn’t return that night. I found out after I went to his house and his wife told me he wasn’t home.

“Alster, wait,” she said as I was turning to leave.

“Yes?”

Her eyes grew big and her upper lip trembled. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with him lately. Is he alright?”

“He feels a lot of guilt for what’s happened. I do too. We should’ve been here to stop them.”

She shook her head. “I don’t blame him or you. Just myself. I was supposed to go. Not Matilda.”

The last part faded into a whisper but I’d heard it. I asked what she meant by that.

“She sacrificed herself for me. She insisted no one would miss a lowly maid. [Sigh]…. She pretended to be me so they would capture her. Taking the chief’s wife would teach the villagers a lesson… they said.”

So that’s what happened.

“Did they say anything else? Please. Think hard. Anything about where they were going? Where their hideout was?”

She closed her eyes and furrowed her brow. I went silent, waiting for her to gather her thoughts. “I’m not sure this is anything important,” she spoke after about a half minute. “Not all of them could turn invisible. The last several were two a horse.… and when the last pair was leaving, one of them in the back said ‘…to Casselberry’ and another hit him on the head.”

Odd for sure. But is that anything to go off?

I nodded. “Well, it’s a clue. I’ll investigate it. Thanks. Have a good night.”

“Stay safe, Alster.”

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She closed the door. Surprisingly, my eyes hadn’t been drawn to her breasts even once during that entire conversation.

Alright, I need to wake up Trent if he’s sleeping. We’re solving this mystery tonight.

I returned to Trent’s house across the small forest trail and knocked on his bedroom door. All I heard was a mumble from inside, so I turned the knob and let myself in. I found him staring at the ceiling with a blank expression.

“It’s late… Alster. Can’t it wait?”

“No. Do you know where a place called Casselberry is?”

“I’ve heard of it. Why?”

“The chief’s wife said one of the bandits mentioned it as they were leaving. Apparently he got smacked in the head for it. What if that’s where they’re hiding?”

Trent sat upright, fully focused on my words. He started whispering to himself and I only caught the word, “…impossible.”

“What?” I demanded.

“Casselberry is the name of one of the stations where the Holy Knights stay during expeditions around this area. It’s a small settlement east of here.”

Before I could say anything, his enthusiasm deflated. “They probably just meant they’d have to avoid that place,” he finished.

He lay down again, stuffing his face into his pillow, and letting out a big sigh.

Something’s not right.

I thought about it some more. I was missing something. Something obvious.

Wait.

“Father. The bandit said ‘…to Casselberry’. Doesn’t that strike you as odd?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why to? Not away from? Or around? Plus, why would he be smacked on the head for mentioning the knights’ station? What if something else is going on?”

“I don’t see your point.”

“My point is we should go to Casselberry. We might find a clue there. Something.”

“Alster, I know you want revenge for what happened. I do too. But we’d be knocking on a hornet’s nest snooping around a place like that. They could arrest you for any reason and no judge would take your word.”

All I could hear coming out of his mouth were excuses.

Telling himself words like impossible had already hardened his heart. He’d already given up like the others. There was no use in staying around any longer. But I wanted to believe I could change his mind. I’d seen the kind of person he could be. He was the reason the village had been successful and those close to him knew it.

“I’m going.”

“Excuse me?” he stared, partly shocked.

“I’m going to Casselberry.”

“You don’t even know where it is.”

“You’re right. I’ll probably get lost and end up getting arrested for violating curfew again. Unless someone who knows the way comes with me.”

“Alster, stop this nonsense. Go to bed.”

“You’ll have to stop me.”

I got closer to him but was just out of reach to taunt him. He swung at me but was surprised by his own sluggish reaction.

“You’re being a child! Stop making this harder on me!” His face was growing annoyed. But I wasn’t having it.

It’s now or never.

“Listen to me, Trent,” I shouted, dragging his shirt up by the collar. “You may have given up. But I haven’t. I will pay those bastards back for what they did to us. I’m going.”

“And what are you going to do when you get there?!” he barked back. “We’re commoners. We’re powerless!”

“You’re powerless. I’m not.”

I created a water ball in the air and let it splash on his bed. His eyes opened wide.

“A… spellcard…. How…”

“I stole it before the chief got rid of it.”

Disappointment filled his eyes. “You lied to me. You said you’d changed.”

Though it hurt to hear him say that, I was in too deep to turn back now. “I know I went behind your back. And the chief’s. But if I hadn’t, we wouldn’t have survived those horned wolves. They would have killed us all.”

“What? But the hunters—”

“They were useless. Fifty in total. And what? All but six ran away, leaving me and the chief. Thanks to me, we lived and everyone got meat. Spellcards are great.”

He stared deeply, putting the pieces together. “So you wanted to go hunting so—”

“—So I could get more spellcards. Yes.”

A tiny fume of hot air left his nostrils. “Do you have any idea what would happen to us if you were caught—”

“It doesn’t matter,” I blurted out angrily. “Because the village’s already gone to shit. What are they going to do? Burn this place down? Everyone’s acting like they’re already dead. You’re acting like your life is over. So what should it matter?”

“Don’t talk to me that way. If you’d only been there. If you’d only seen—”

“Well, maybe I’m glad I wasn’t! Because then I might have given up! Like you and everyone else! Listen, Father. This spellcard can knock out a man cold. And my aim is deadly. Those bandits captured Matilda. I don’t have to remind you what a group of thugs will do to a defenseless woman. I will rescue her. And I want to know the quickest route to get there. So are you coming with me, or not?”

I extended a hand, anticipating he would slap it away.

“It’s suicide. We’ll get caught—” the words scrambled out of his mouth. I withdrew my hand.

“You’re already dead. But if you’re so desperate to keep your hollow shell, then stay. Don’t ever call yourself my father again.”

Coward.

Trent gulped. His mouth made a tiny opening, almost enough for his soul to escape. I bet even the old Alster had never said something like that to him.

I turned to walk away.

I could hear Trent’s heart beating fast. He exhaled to calm himself down.

I had a foot out the door when, to my surprise, he hastened to put on his boots.

“Wait. I’ll go with you.”