“Hey, what about Steven?” Ashley asked fretfully, from somewhere behind her, as Chess continued to give the old man a bruising hug.

Shit, Steven! Chess thought, and let go to look towards her daughter.

Stace stood, blocking her view, transfixed by the sight of Caldur's scout impaled on the dark wooden spear.

The shaft looked to be specially made for the task. It widened significantly from the razor-sharp tip to a base wider than Gramps' fist.

“We give him mercy,” Kan said at the same time Gramps said, “We do what we can to make him comfortable,” and stepped back.

Chess craned her head around Stace to see Ashley pacing in front of Steven’s, thankfully, unconscious form. The blood-covered tip protruded nearly a yard from his right collarbone.

Slowly Chess approached to study the gruesome sight closer, out of some sort of morbid curiosity. “I think I could remove the spear without doing more damage,” she offered.

“Gut wounds like that are bad, bacteria will have flooded his chest cavity by now. Without a proper hospital, I’m afraid your friend here is right. The best we can do is end it for him.” Gramps rested one of his large hands on her shoulder.

Chess shrugged him off and knelt at the base of the planted spear. Using a small surge of magic, she cut the shaft and caught Steven's weight, with a grunt, before he toppled.

“Can't you try? Wouldn't your magic let you cleanse him?” Chess asked Amber, while Kan and her grandfather helped her lower Steven to the ground.

"Blood Share's percentage is simply too low to make a difference right now." Amber shook her head. "We'd have to cut him open and clean his insides up somehow. If I used mend like he is, it would only kill him faster. If we cut him he’s dead anyway. Simply removing the spear will likely kill him." With a wave of her hand, her veins detached from the crushed head of one bandit before latching onto another. Her shield expanded as she talked.

"There is something we can try. No guarantee it will work though," Gramps said. He studied and gently probed at the exit and entry wound with his fingers before following the line it had taken through his body. Chess followed his hands with her eyes. Noting that the shaft entered above his right hip and exited just below his left collarbone. He'd hung on a diagonal from the planted shaft.

"There may be a chance if he can hold on for a while longer. They didn't go in through his bowels directly. If they missed his organs, as I suspect they may have—so he'd live longer—he may make it. He may just be lucky the person who did this was a talented impaler. He may live if I'm right, but I'm not sure about the mental scars. Would you explain how your healing works?" Gramps asked Amber.

"It's a flat increase in the speed of recovery. Mine does a handful of days worth in a few seconds. Ashley's is about four times that. More if she or lady Chess uses their sap. Both my and Ashley's healing abilities take the resources from the body though, which could also kill him,” Amber explained.

"Does it stress the body other than for nutrients and energy?" Ken asked.

“Not that I’m aware of,” Amber hedged.

Chess frowned and turned to Ashley. "You should be able to share your window with him, dear. He is my grandfather."

"Dear?" Gramps asked at the same time Amber and Hilkan asked, "Grandfather?"

Ashley's mouth just dropped open as she looked back and forth between Gramps and Chess. "What? He's a dwarf…"

Chess shrugged. "The gods work in mysterious ways."

"You should explain that," Amber suggested.

"Can't," Chess said. "I…"

Kan's gruff voice overshadowed them all. "Scout Steven doesn't have time for this." He turned his head from watching the still twitching Flemming to address Ashely, "Mistress, I suggest you share the window with your great grandfather. We need to move as soon as possible. Graventy may have more men in the area. It isn't safe to linger here more than necessary."

The new golem rested his shield against the back of his leg then began mechanically ripping arrows from first his legs, then the wood of his shield. His head was up and alert, scanning their surroundings, throughout the process. Each wound slowly leaked golden sap like honey crawling down the outside of a bottle.

Chess noted the sergeant stopped eyeing Gramps after the exchange, instead he kept his focus on their surroundings.

Ashley nodded and turned on a bemused Ken with a hesitant smile before flicking her fingers in his direction.

"Thanks, dear," Ken said, smiling as he read.

Once it was clear he'd finished, Amber said, "And mine... I also have these." She made a series of similar gestures.

Ken spared her an arched bushy brow but kept his comment to himself.

"Sap?" Ken prompted when he'd finished reading.

Ashley made a flicking motion with her fingers overhead, having already turned to layer new sap over Kan's many holes.

"Any other abilities that may help?" Gramps asked.

He received a round of headshakes.

"Do we have any sewing supplies and some clean cloth?" he asked next.

"Yeah." Chess nodded and brought out some fine silk, thread, and a small piece of ironwood which she quickly formed into a curved needle.

"Okay, better than I thought. I think we can get it out and have him closed up. Whether infection takes him after will be in the Lord's hands," he said gruffly, before turning on Amber who was busy with her inspection. "Would you hook your ability to the man? He could use any advantage he can get."

"Yeah, I think you're right. It appears Graventy may be his father's court executioner. This is… well done." Amber took place at Steven’s head and her magic veins appeared, connecting to the side of Steven's neck.

"What was that you just did with the needle?" Gramps asked Chess.

"Wood manipulation. Why?" Chess asked.

A smile touched Gramps' lips. "Can you, by chance, remove the wood while leaving a plug in either end?"

"I can try?"

"Well?" Gramps prompted.

"Now?" Chess swallowed but knelt beside Steven.

"He doesn't have all day, girl. You're the ones with the abilities. Pretend I'm the conductor of this farce."

Chess ignored him and carefully laid two fingers onto the end of the shaft, then sent her wood senses in. They seemed fuzzy like she was attempting to see through skim milk instead of water. Thankfully the exposed shaft appeared to be smooth and clean.

First, she tried to bring the wood back directly, simply flowing out as she did with the skulls but after a moment it became too dense and started to expand around the wound. What the? It's not flowing right. She forced herself to think for a moment and rubbed at her eyes. When I fill the skulls I just shove a big piece in the bottom then expand it drawing the rest from below. Then reverse that on the way out. I guess I don't think about the entry. Chess shook her head. You're overthinking it.

"It's not working right," Chess said, with a frustrated grimace. "My magic is murky inside his body."

"Can you cut a plug off one end then thin it before you pull it from the other?" Amber asked.

Chess nodded.

Starting again, she cut the shaft a few inches inside his collarbone before she thinned the shaft protruding from his stomach elongating it before she gripped it in two hands and slowly drew and thinned the shaft in one continuous motion.

It came out with a sucking squelch and a trickle of blood.

Amber rose and brushed her aside, taking a length of clean silk from Ken's hands.

Chess scooted back to rest against the nearby tree.

Chess retrieved Sprig from her vault and put Spread the Magic to the Amber Core's passive, then played the beginning of Yesterday by The Beatles. She cracked a half-smile when Gramps started singing it in a pleasant baritone, drawing a glance from Kan and Ashley.

Large wispy flakes of snow started frolicking around them as they worked.

With deft motions Amber wiped the area around the hole with a cloth, then accepted a small flask from Ken, splashing the acrid contents liberally around the wound.

"The other end please," Amber prompted.

Chess nodded mutely and put Sprig down and did as bade, before returning and continuing her song.

"It's not every day you hear a dwarf sing," Kan muttered.

Chess was thankful Steven remained unconscious throughout.

"Okay, this will be a longshot, and may do damage of its own, but we have little choice. Help me prop him up," Gramps asked.

Chess and Amber helped get Steven into a sitting position before Gramps pulled another slightly larger flask from his pack and, without preamble, dumped the entire contents into the hole in Steven's collar.

Steven woke with a primal scream that threatened to deafen Chess's delicate eardrums.

Gramps and Amber wrestled to keep him still while the contents of the flask trickled out the lower hole.

"There now son, we're here to help, just hold on and it will all be over soon." Gramps used the voice he saved for spooked animals. As he soothed him, he pressed a length of leather between Steven’s lips while keeping a firm grip on his forehead.

Gramps let Steven scream himself out around the belt and kept murmuring encouraging words while the others worked.

Chess covered her ears for a moment before a strange calm overtook her and she thought to grab Sprig and continue playing. Without singing this time.

She did her best to ignore the screaming while Ashley applied sap to the wounds before using her healing ability followed by Amber doing both ends separately.

Steven's body visibly shrank as their spells took effect. He went from a toned and robustly muscular man to a gaunt and drawn scarecrow in a handful of seconds. But, both holes had closed and his chest rose and fell evenly as he thankfully fell back into unconsciousness.

"Now we wait and see if infection sets in. It seems none had taken hold yet. But the damage to his insides will likely only be partially healed, and we don't know what that stick left inside him," Amber said, stuffing a couple of offered lengths of silk under Steven’s head. Chess noted that she left her veins attached to the man.

"We need to get him somewhere safe and comfortable," Gramps said, looking over their heads to the enclosure filled with circling horses with interest.

"I hope he pulls through. Hopefully, he knows what happened to Lord Caldur. Aaron is already going to beat himself up over how many of us have died. If he's still alive," Kan said, shaking his head.

"I know you're worried. Hopefully, he's just a political hostage, like Lynn suspects," Chess said and laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Amber," Amber corrected.

Chess nodded.

Gramps turned to the bandit he'd wounded and helped him to his feet, with the spear still lodged in his leg, and herded the man up to the others, then dropped him near Amber. "I think it's time we gather a few answers."

"Flemming!" Amber called out, drawing the man's attention.

"Yes, mistress?" he asked. It looked like he'd finally recovered from the control rod's shocking and sat with his head in his quivering hands.

"Do you know him?" she asked and knelt to examine the spear and wound.

He glanced over and nodded, not quite meeting anyone's eyes. "He won't take the collar."

"I think he gets to make that decision. Don't you lad?" Gramps asked the whimpering man. Boy really. Now that Chess looked, she decided he couldn't be more than eighteen or nineteen.

He looked determined and resolved to his fate.

"He's not gonna say anything; Kevin has a young wife and daughter. Parents too," Flemming explained affably.

Kevin glared murder at Flemming.

Chess leaned her head back against the giant tree behind her and looked up at the faint wisps of the sky above for a moment to collect herself.

"What are you dancing about son?" Gramps asked.

Flemming nodded at the shaft they'd removed from Steven with a grimace. "That's not the only form of fun Graventy and his father are fond of."

"Why are you so forthcoming if that's the case?" Gramps wondered.

Flemming shrugged. "I have no family. That and no one will know I'm alive that matters, after Kevin here forces you to kill him. Failure is as much a sin as desertion to the Canfrees. As long as you don't sell me to them, I'll be fine. This isn't the first time I ended up in a collar."

Amber and Stace both eyed him warily.

Flemming matched them evenly. "I'm good with a spear. A few years in a mercenary company and I'll earn my way free."

"How does anyone stand to serve them then?" Chess asked.

"Come now, it's a tale as old as time. I'm going to go out on a limb here, and say the Canfrees are generally successful in their goals, right? Otherwise, they'd have been overthrown or simply scare too many people away to retain their position. There are always toadies willing to hitch a wagon to such people. And not just those that share their proclivities. Also, don't discount the possibility he's seen as an agent of good back home," Gramps reasoned.

"Graventy likes to track down and impale deserters then round up their immediate family and do the same. Starting with the children. He calls it, 'culling cowards.' It's best if you just kill him. It's the best shot his family has," Flemming advised.

"No one's killing anyone! This is all kinds of fucked up!" Stace protested, stepping forward.

Kevin took this opportunity to charge and before anyone could react, he had the head of the spear that had been in his leg held tightly to Stace's neck in a manic grip. He attempted to drag her back a step but came up short when she refused to budge. The fur at her neck protected her from being cut. Chess saw the corners of Stace's lips draw back from her teeth in a silent snarl.

Blood trailed down Kevin's leg in fast rivulets where he'd removed the spear. As he eyed each of them in turn, he looked like a wildcat caught in a trap.

He doesn't have long, Chess thought, watching the blood flow, as, for an endless moment, everyone froze like characters out of an old western.

Then Ashley yelled, "Hey," drawing the man's attention to the side. He dropped the edge of the spear a hand span with the movement.

A soft click sounded. Kevin slumped bonelessly sideways, the spear falling from limp fingers, cutting a trail in Stace's fur but not breaking the skin.

As he fell, Chess noted that the back of Kevin's skull had disappeared.

She turned from the grizzly sight and watched Stace probe at her throat and swallow once hard. There wasn't any blood on her neck.

"That's two headshots in one day," Ashley said, growing contemplative.

Stace turned to look at Ashley. "Fuck! You… you just killed him!"

Ashley shrugged and turned away.

Stace looked lost.

"She saved your life," Gramps said flatly. "Chester…" he added nodding towards Ashley.

"It's Chess now," Amber corrected.

Getting the picture, Chess nodded and wrapped her daughter in a hug, and whispered in her ear, "You done good."

Gramps took Stace aside and they had a quiet and heated discussion, in English, that Chess did her best to tune out.

Chess shook her head and broke the embrace with Ashley. "You good?" she asked, meeting her gold-flecked copper eyes.

"Yeah, I think," Ashley agreed, and looked over towards her Heliwr.

"Go, just stay between us and the horse pen. We can talk later," Chess encouraged with a hesitant smile.

When Gramps and Stace were done, Stace stalked off closer to the horses, and Gramps returned to the group. He grabbed Chess's elbow and led her a little ways away from the others.

"Now, l think it's time you explain a few things," he said in English, giving Flemming, and then Amber significant looks. "Start with, why do you have slaves?" His outwardly cheerful voice held a suppressed sinister edge. His gaze locked on Flemming again.

Chess brushed him off, held up her hands, and took a step back. "It's not what you think…"

Gramps' voice turned clipped. "I don't want excuses. I want answers."

Kan, feeling a growing conflict, stepped toward them. Chess shook her head at him then turned to look at her grandfather.

She quailed under his disappointed glower for a moment. The familiar ache of his disapproval pooled in her belly before she lifted her head to meet his gaze evenly. You don't know what I've been through. You just don't understand, she thought.

"How about I introduce everyone to you and Stace properly?" Chess said, with forced cheer, in Brastian, followed with an aside in English to her grandfather. "Please let me explain, I've been here longer than you think. It's been… hard."

Ken studied her face for a moment before, and after a deep breath, it softened, just a bit. "No excuses," he repeated.

"No excuses," Chess agreed, then smiled toward Kan and offered a gesture in his direction. "That's Sergeant Herman Hilkan, he's…" Chess found herself stumbling over how to explain the situation.

Kan saved her the trouble, stepping forward.

"Sergeant," Gramps stuck out a hand.

Kan clasped his forearm and Gramps went with it. Both dwarf and golem gave each other a squeeze, followed by an up-and-down look, before letting go.

Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

"What your granddaughter is hesitant to say is, I'm a Golem. And I fear she's wrong. I'm no longer a sergeant in the Heel's guard. That responsibility fell from my shoulders the moment I died for them."

"Golem? Died?" Gramps asked, and took a step back to meet his gaze.

Kan took his helm off and gave Gramps a skeletal smile before nodding toward Ashley. "Freya gifted your great-granddaughter with an ability that lets her contract and bind the souls of worthy warriors to a Golem formed around their bones called an Einherjar. I'm the recent result of such a contract."

Gramps turned to Stace and called out. "See, Stace? It's cultural, not cannibalism. Right, I've been rude. There are more of you than us. As you've no doubt pieced together I'm Chess's granddad, Kenneth Stewart, and my companion is Stace Haes. Who Loki, apparent god of mischief, thought to steal away from her home." He snorted derisively after the word god.

Stace rolled her eyes and crossed her arms as she returned to the group.

Amber eyed her warily.

Chess threw an arm around Amber's shoulders and whispered in her ear. "Stace is good people. She can't help it if a god takes an interest in her, now can she?" Chess felt Amber's reluctant nod as she addressed the others. "This is Amber Lynn, a recent but fast friend who swore herself to my service. She is not a slave." Chess gave her grandfather the stink eye. "The torc is a… gift from Freya."

Amber raised an arm to tug at the citrine-colored band around her neck.

"And last but certainly not least is Ashley," Chess said and gave her daughter a fond smile through the crowd. "I adopted her shortly after I failed to save her parents from some of these bastard slavers…" Chess hung her head and studied the ground at her feet.

"You're forgetting someone," Gramps said.

Amber saved her from answering. "As you know, Flemming is one of the bandits. He surrendered and accepted the collar over death. The local Count hangs bandits and those who steal his people if they don't accept a collar or brand willingly."

Gramps relaxed noticeably, then simply nodded and turned to Ashley with a beaming smile. Leaving Stace to fidget awkwardly nearby.

"Now, for the important introductions. Who are your friends?" Gramps asked as he approached Ashley, who'd retreated to play frisbee with her trio of Heliwr.

"They're my bonds, well, the male and the green and white female are. Amber made me bind Flemming." She pouted. "It's weird knowing where he is all the time."

"Oh?" Gramps said, looking back at Amber.

"I haven't named them yet," Ashley said, plucking a dropped disc out of the sky.

"It's peculiar seeing an animal that looks like a cat playing catch. Are they mammals or birds?"

"What's a Mammal?" Ashley asked.

"Well, you are for one…"

Chess turned from their conversation to help Amber collect the bodies and start stripping their gear before retrieving The Harvester from her vault and putting it to use. They may yet need the heads.

Amber's creepy veins remained ever attached to Steven.

Stace followed in their wake, her eyes wide and a little uncomfortable, studying everything.

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

"This is going to be a bit of work," Gramps observed, as the group convened outside the dense circle of brambles that still held the nearly two dozen horses from Caldur's failed patrol. Chess noticed her mare Petal in the herd and smiled. "It's a good sign they weren't spooked by the fighting and blood."

"They're all trained fighting mounts," Kan said proudly.

"The brambles held up surprisingly well, but I can make a path through easily enough," Chess said and pulled Sprig around to do just that.

"The bags of feed we left are empty, and they've stripped the berries from the inside bushes," Amber noticed.

"Not much for horses to eat in a forest like this," Gramps agreed. "Did you store any feed nearby?"

"No sir. A couple of our men held it in inventory spaces. We do have Adit's head but Phillips is still missing," Kan said before trailing off.

"That's a problem?" Gramps asked.

"To empty a person's inventory you have to first harvest their pyth. It would be… taboo, to do it to the men we intend to return to their families for an inheritance, without great need," Amber explained.

Gramps nodded in understanding.

Chess paused her song. "I can grow more brambles," she offered.

"No," Gramps and Amber said on top of each other before Amber deferred to Gramps. "It's not healthy for them to eat a lot of raspberries. We'll need hay or something similar. Maybe oats if they exist. Well, they must, if you have a word for them," he explained.

"We could check the bandits with inventories," Chess suggested. "Or search for grass seeds? I'd only need a few and a place to grow them."

"Did any of these people have oats on them?" Stace asked. "I mean oatmeal is a thing right?"

"You need unprocessed seeds," Gramps said.

"Right," Chess agreed and trailed off. I remember seeing something.

"Let us inside, before you finish that thought," Gramps said.

Chess smiled sheepishly, then finished making a narrow passage into the enclosure, by making the brambles grow away from, then thicker, so they were pulled out by their weight.

Gramps led the group in, with Ashley on his heels. He tsked twice before Chess passed into her vault's door in search of seeds amongst the gear they'd taken from the bandits and Graventy's men.

When she emerged with a small sack she thought might be oat or grass seeds she found the team had already removed a dozen horses and tied them to a line staked to one of the giant ironwoods.

Gramps was checking some bloody scrapes on the muzzle of a reddish-orange stallion. "Thorns got you good, didn't they boy? Were you a little too greedy?" he admonished the horse with a pat.

As he talked the other four led out another four horses and tied them to the chain.

Gramps stepped back and surveyed the newcomers with a nod.

"Where is Stace?" Chess asked, looking around.

"Up here," Stace said from behind her, and Chess spun around before spotting Stace up on a low branch of an ironwood tree, sitting with her back to the trunk, the male Heliwr in her lap.

Gramps chuckled. "She spooked a handful of the horses and made some of the others aggressive. Large predators can do that. Give it time, and they'll adjust to her."

Stace scowled then went back to petting the Heliwr. "At least Ralf here likes me. Stupid horses," she said.

"That's not his name!" Ashley protested.

"Well, you're not naming them!" Stace stuck her tongue out at Chess's daughter.

Chess laughed and turned back to her grandfather and offered him the sack.

He shook his head when he looked inside. "Not sure what that is. Luckily we found this in a corner of one of the feed sacks," he said, digging out a handful of mixed seeds from a pouch before dumping them in her palms.

He paused, looking at the growing string of horses with a frown. "I choose Stable," he said after a moment.

Chess gave him a minute before smiling at him and asking, "New ability? What does it do?"

Gramps returned the smile. "How do...? Oh, here," he said, making a familiar flicking motion.

Stable: Rank 3

Store up to Rank x Mind(mod) small to huge-sized animals in a pocket dimensional stable. Space adjusts to accommodate each animal. [Current 12]

Takes 1 minute - mind seconds to summon the portal. [Current 41 seconds]

Portal can remain open for up to Rank hours, Mind (mod) times a day. [Current 3 hours and 4 times a day]

Stable reduces the feed required for all stored animals by Rank x Con (Mod) percent while inside. Max 75%. [Current 12%]

All stored animals regain energy, rest, and heal Rank x Con (mod) percent faster. [Current 12%]

"I'm not sure if that's good or just meh. What's your class?" Chess asked.

"It's a portable stable. It's like taking part of the ranch with you," Gramps said dryly, then turned back to the scraped-up stallion. He took the horse by the bridle and untied him from the line.

A large intake of magic surrounded the dwarf for a minute before a large milky vault door sprang up from the forest floor. "Come on," he clicked to the horse before leading him inside.

"He's really taken to the whole magic thing better than I would have expected. He didn't even pause before walking in," Chess murmured.

"I don't think there's much your grandfather fears," Stace said, watching the portal.

"I don't think I've ever seen him scared before," Chess said, after a moment of thought.

"He's just good at hiding or working through it," Kan said, leading the group with the remaining horses from the enclosure, "No one lacks fear. Well, no one that isn't an idiot. That dwarf is no idiot."

"We need to leave soon," Amber said, giving the surrounding forest a careful survey before grabbing a saddle and pad from inside the pen, then started saddling one of the horses.

"Any other injuries?" Gramps asked, stepping from his portal. He spared a glance for the sleeping Steven, before focusing on Kan who had returned to standing watch.

"A few more that are scratched up, one is limping, I think she took a kick, and another has a broken shoe," Kan reported.

"Okay, I can fit eleven more. So, I'll take those five and the six most skittish of the remaining," Gramps decided.

"Would Steven be able to go inside? Your other ability worked on people," Stace asked.

"It doesn't say either way. Willing to be my Guinea pig?" Gramps asked.

Stace groaned, "Fine," and jumped down, dislodging the Heliwr into the air.

"He'll lose the benefit of my Blood Share if you put him inside," Amber warned after the pair successfully entered and returned.

"Not if you went in with him. It's amazing in there!" Stace enthused. "It's like the stables you see in the movies. All bright, white, and open. He can even access his other storage spaces from doors inside!"

Amber frowned. "I'm not staying in your dimensional space. What if something happens to you? Just no."

"How about we head back to Stace's and my camp and discuss how to proceed from there? It's only a couple of kilometers and didn't have signs of other people about. Steven should be fine for the short trip," Gramps suggested.

A round of nods later, the group finished saddling the horses and storing beasts and gear before putting Steven into Ken's Stable, then mounted up.

Chess settled in uncomfortably, garnering a rueful chuckle from her grandfather. "I gave you ample opportunity to learn as a kid, but you always turned me down," he admonished. "Would you be willing to part with one of your crossbows?" he asked Chess, who sighed and handed him one and a quiver of bolts from storage.

"How about you tell me what you've been up to since you got here, while we ride?" Gramps asked.

"Sure," Chess said, gathering her thoughts. "It all started with a moose …"

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

Gramps frowned at the fifth round of mixed seeds Chess had grown in the flat area between two of the ironwood titans. "That's enough. The soil is stressed and has little moisture left. In the future, we'll have to make sure you move the plots around when you use this ability," he told Chess.

Chess nodded, grateful that she was done. A low-grade headache had settled into her temples, and her fingertips hurt from playing Sprig.

"Here," Amber said as she joined them, offering Gramps a handful of vaguely familiar tools and brushes.

"Thanks, you're a dear," he said, before turning and handing them to Chess. "Do you think you can make a handful of each of these with your wood ability? If you use that tough wood you have, they should be more than sturdy enough not to splinter."

Chess studied them closer finally recalling that one was called a curry comb. She groaned but nodded. "Yeah..."

"It's strange that most of these breeds are very close to ones back on Earth. Aside from a few outlandish colors, like that orange, or the two with lime green manes, most are built a lot like Percherons or Mustangs with a heavy Arabian mix, if a handful of hands taller and a bit broader in the chest. Those three look exactly like American paints," Gramps mused to Amber as Chess sat down to increase her headache.

"Rift overlap?" Amber suggested. "It's possible to pass through to other worlds through some of the dungeon rifts."

"There aren't any rifts on earth, no magic either," Gramps said.

"Well there is now, the one we all fell through if you two showing up is any indication," Chess said. She watched Ashley teach Stace how to properly use one of the reaping scythes she'd made at the other end of the plot of hay. While they talked and she idly made a handful of combs and brushes from scraps, Flemming trailed behind Stace and Ashley tying the hay into sheaves.

"Fair," Gramps said, conceding the point. He bent and took one of Chess's finished products before heading for the first horse in their picket line.

The man… dwarf, whatever… never stops working! Chess thought, not for the first time in her life.

When she finished making six of each item, Chess made to get up, only for her grandfather to forestall her.

"Could you make a set that's half the size? The handles can stay the same," he asked.

"Why?" Chess asked.

"For Stace of course."

"You want me to make her a set of horse grooming tools for her to use on herself?"

"Well, she has a lot of fur now," he reasoned.

Chess shrugged and settled back into work.

"I wanted to ask. What's the plan?" Gramps prompted, as he switched to combing the next horse in line.

"We're heading to a city called Portheel, I suppose," Chess said with a sigh.

"No, I mean, how do you want to proceed, My Lady?" Gramps asked, emphasizing the last two words.

"Take the skulls in and collect the bounty." Chess shrugged. "Probably report what happened here to the Abbess, then go from there?" she added distastefully.

"No, the bigger picture. Why do you want to be a lady? How do you want us to do it? What is the goal?" Gramps prompted.

"Uh… find good trainers and pyth?" Chess said lamely.

"A good idea. What about living? How are you intending us to make money? Are we renting or buying a house? How are you going to raise followers for Freya? You implied there's an 'or else' in your service to her. Aside from the loss of the benefits, she's lavished on you and your companions. I just got you back. I don't need to lose you to some sort of divine retribution because you decided to be lazy."

Chess nodded and ran a hand through her knotted locks and sighed. "Well, we can't stay in Portheel for more than a couple of years," she reasoned aloud.

"Two years is longer than it seems. We could build an estate in a few months with your powers and a little help. If you want to pose as a noble, we—your retainers and family—can't be seen leaving to find employment elsewhere. You have to be seen as supporting us while making money of your own."

"We're selling the dungeon location. According to Amber and Hilkan, it's valuable information. And that'll be more than the bounties we're going to collect. Besides we can just say we're delvers."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't this Graventy character also have the location?"

"Yeah..."

"Well, don't count your chickens." Gramps turned to Amber and spoke up over the intervening horses. "If all these bandits turn out to be soldiers of the Canfree duchy pretending to be bandits, how much trouble would be turning them in as bandits potentially bring?" he asked.

"Some of them are most definitely part of a local bandit group; Graventy talked of a separate group," Amber said. "But to answer your question, potentially a lot. Aside from Flemming, who has been dominated, and Kan, who will be disregarded, we have no living witnesses saying we're not the perpetrators here. We have no idea what's become of Caldur or his squire. It would be our word against his. There is always the bounty book, we can check and see if we recognize anyone before retrieving the heads. Although that would only reveal those that were known. It might be better to leave the heads somewhere for now. A few of the gate guards have very high Sight and Spot Pyths with class abilities that can see into most inventory spaces," Amber admitted, then looked thoughtful.

"What about the truth seekers?" Ashley asked from behind them, having come to the end of her row.

"You don't have to lie to imply," Gramps said sardonically. "Any lie detection can be circumvented. I'm confident that includes magical tests too."

"You're not wrong," Amber agreed.

"Would keeping them encased in wood help?" Chess asked.

"Not without a disguising enchantment of some sort," Amber shook her head.

Chess sighed. "Well, Ashley already looted most of them, so we can't return them as soldiers. Only a few had inventories. We could always desiccate those with spaces and put them in wood. I assume that would work? We'd still have all the delvers and Caldur's soldiers to return."

"As long as they can't be identified, yes," Amber allowed. "As for the rift, we do know how to survive it, and more importantly, when it's safe to enter. Which will be valuable, regardless of who reports it first. With us likely reporting within days of Graventy, the discovery bounty will probably be split anyway. If he even intends to report it and not keep it for his family."

Gramps nodded conceding that point. "I'm not trying to get you worked up. I just want you all to start thinking. You've all been in survival mode for too long. It's easy to miss the bigger picture."

"Why does it have to be me?" Chess grumbled.

"Because you're the noble. You have to at least appear to be making the decisions. And the easiest way to do that is by actually doing so. That's not to say you don't ask for help or input. Quite the opposite. Good leaders usually ask for information then delegate from there. Better if it's your subordinate's plan. Since they're likely to be more invested in the outcome," Gramps said.

Chess groaned, "I almost forgot about your lectures."

"In that vein, I have a suggestion, if I may?" Gramps asked.

Chess rolled her eyes and waved him to get on with it.

"It may be hard to pull off, but why not be a noble pretending to be someone or something else? You said a few people, outside your friends and daughter..." He spared a smile for Ashley. "...here, already think you're a noble right?" Gramps asked.

Chess nodded.

"She is much too beautiful, graceful, and well-fed, not to mention skilled, to be seen as anything less than a wealthy merchant's daughter. Even her rare elven blood would speak to a noble upbringing since it's much sought after by the wealthy and influential elites. Count Caldur's wife is a half-blood sea-elf. It wouldn't be that hard of a ruse to pull off," Amber agreed enthusiastically before Chess could speak.

"What about the elves? Wouldn't they simply think I was raised by them?" Chess asked. She stood and took up a curry comb of her own. After watching her grandfather for a moment, she started working on a horse of her own. She was surprised the horse paid her little mind as it ate.

"Perhaps, but elves outside of their enclaves are rare, and elves cherish the children they do have since they only rarely reproduce. Those that are raised within an enclave fall under the enclave's protections, like all elves. No one wants to start an incident that will gain the attention of their elders. Any desirable, free mixed-blood elves are actively sought for unions or... well, you've seen the other side of that. But that hardly weakens the argument," Amber explained.

"I'm worried about Graventy and his father," Chess said thoughtfully.

"Don't be. Now that we've proven we can handle such blatant machinations, he'll be forced to use other means or drop it. Though we'll still have to manage the dead brother situation. Killing a Canfree will have a cost," Kan added over his shoulder.

Chess scowled. "The rapist bastard had it coming."

"Undoubtedly, but he was still the legitimate son of a duke," Amber cautioned.

Chess grumbled, and her grandfather came over and laid a hand on her shoulder.

"Have any of these horses been trained to drive?" Gramps asked, changing the subject. "And is it normal for noble ladies to wear armor like she is?"

"All of them, and not unless they're Delvers," Amber answered.

"How many of these bandits do you figure are still left in these woods?" Gramps asked.

"Between the two groups? Probably at least a couple dozen. Maybe as many as twice that. But we know it's two separate groups and that whoever has Caldur is likely already long gone."

"We should have time then. We should do this right. You said that the crossbows were made from ironwood. Is that something from this forest?"

Chess smiled and pointed at a pair of giants behind him. "Those two are ironwoods, the problem is my ability only works on wood that has been dead for a while, maybe a few months or years? I need to test it. There will be some fallen branches around though."

"Really. The taller trees?" Ken asked, turning to study the titans closely. "Fallen branches won't be enough," he mused.

"We found a grove of dead ones a few days from here? You know, I can't remember when or where that was exactly," Chess murmured.

"It wasn't that far off the trail, but you're right, I couldn't tell you where," Amber agreed.

"Stace!" Ken called over to the reaping catgirl. "Is that the same type of tree as that enormous fallen one we found?" He pointed.

Stace studied the tree for a moment before nodding. "I think so."

"There is a beautiful fallen giant not too far from here," Ken said with a smile.

Chess groaned. "This, whatever you're planning, is gonna suck isn't it?"

"I don't know about that. Way I see it, it should be fun. I've never built a Tinker's wagon before," Gramps said.

Chess groaned and rubbed at her temples. "By I, you mean me, don't you?"

"A little hard work won't kill you," Gramps said, with a wide smile and backslap.

"Sure it won't," Chess grumbled, rubbing at her shoulder.

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

"This isn't an Ironwood!" Amber said with clear reverence as she laid a gauntleted hand on the enormous trunk.

"No?" Gramps asked. "Looks the same to me."

Amber shook her head emphatically. "This… this is the body of an Ironwood Dryad. You can feel the residual magic in her wood."

"I take it, that's important?" Gramps asked.

"She is worth more than three reported dungeon finds, at least. If Chess makes stuff from her…" Amber's eyes nearly glowed with greed.

Chess frowned and matched her in placing a hand against the bark.

Her mouth dropped open as she let her wood senses flow inside. She could feel the entire tree! She wasn't limited to the immediate few meters like usual. Aside from that, the tree practically thrummed with power. "Oh, wow," she gasped. "Is?… can we?… should we?" She shot a nervous glance around her. Strangely there were no other ironwoods in the immediate vicinity.

"She's dead. Of old age, by the looks of it. As long as we're not responsible for her death the others won't take offense if we take her," Amber said, with a growing smile. "Ashley!" she called back to where she, Flemming, and Kan held the horses. "Come see if there is anything to harvest from this beautiful girl."

Turning back to Chess she beamed. "Looks like you'll be making us new armor after all!"

Chess rubbed her temples even harder. "I hate you all."

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

"You know a disturbing number of Alanis Morissette songs," Stace observed as she blocked out Chess's light.

"I went through a phase. I could sing Backstreet Boys instead, if you prefer," Chess offered cheerfully, pausing to meet her light grey eyes.

Stace grimaced. "Hard pass."

"Steve wake up yet?" Chess asked.

Stace shook her head. "His fever is getting worse. Amber and your grandfather are talking about maybe cutting him open."

Chess grimaced.

Stace plopped down beside her. Chess was attempting to make an intricate mural for the rear door of the wagon with little success. "Want some help?" Stace asked.

"Maybe," Chess said, around her protruding tongue. "I'm not great at this detailed stuff. I should have asked you, but I got frustrated and then stubborn..."

Stace snorted. "Clearly. Here, how about I draw it out for you and you remove the wood?"

"I don't have anything to draw with. That's half the problem. "

Stace smiled and Chess watched her cast a quick pair of tiny spell mandalas over her hand. When it faded she held a light-green nib pen and a small bowl. She removed her waterskin and small pouch from her belt pouring a little water into a mound of ash. Then fished out a rough piece of charcoal. "This will be fun, I haven't done much with charcoal lately."

"Did Gramps give you the combs?" Chess asked, noting the glossy look of Stace's thick fur.

"The old coot told me to either learn to use the brushes or use my tongue! He even demonstrated them on Ashley's cats," Stace chuckled.

"Well, it looks like it works. You're all glossy now."

"Your girlfriend seems nice," Stace observed.

Chess nearly choked on her tongue before turning a glare on Stace. "She's not my girlfriend."

"Yet," Stace whispered. "Look, she's already shooting us dirty glances." Stace laughed.

"That's because you're speaking English. Which is kinda rude."

"She has nothing to worry about. I'm not into diving for the muff... Diving for the muff. That doesn't translate quite right," Stace observed, having switched to Brastian.

Chess stopped working and hugged her knees. The pair fell into a heavy silence.

"How are you taking it?" Stace asked, mimicking her position.

"It's getting easier. Everything has been happening so fast that I haven't had the opportunity to dwell. But I think I'd be a bigger wreck if Freya hadn't made this body feel right for me. She removed any hint of gender dysphoria. Now…" Chess frowned and stared into space. "I don't remember how I used to look anymore. Sometimes that really bugs me, and I can't sleep. It's like I've lost part of myself that I can't get back." Hurt tinged her voice.

"That...sucks. I could…"

"How are you taking your change?" Chess deflected.

"It's strange... New. Climbing and stalking are a lot of fun. I really like not feeling powerless." Stace made a fist for emphasis. "Not sure how I'm ever going to find a man like this though. Not that I'm in a rush or anything."

"There are other full-blood catkins around. Ashley's mother was fully furry like you, though she had some other things mixed in. If that doesn't appeal I'm sure you can find a human of the furry persuasion," Chess teased.

The fur on Stace's cheeks and neck bushed out.

"Are you blushing right now?" Chess asked.