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Glenn, Kirby and Stephi made it back to the Glade House.
The guards on the drawbridge admitting entrance to Three Hills City were a little confused, and disappointed that the towering, buxom elf wasn’t with the gnome and half-goblin.
She was with them, but in her fairy form, riding along inside a canvas sack that Kirby’d stolen from a laborer around the docks. It smelled a little of fish, which didn’t make Stephi happy. But Kirby insisted that fairies were more than a curiosity. They made people nervous. He’d said to Stephi when she balked, “You think dancing on stage without a cloak or bra drew attention? A sparkly winged fairy would turn heads away from that in a second. Fairies got a bad reputation for mischief.” His face scrunched up. “Or misfortune. A lot of times somebody ends up hurt.” His eyes widened. “Hurt, or dead.”
The Glade House, the boarding house where Glenn and his party stayed, was empty, except for Elise. The young maid stood on a stepstool, wiping down the dining room’s walls. She turned her head and smiled when she saw Kirby and Glenn.
“No luck fishing,” Kirby said and shrugged.
“Too bad.”
“Did you hear where Lysine and Kalgore went?”
The maid said, “Sorry, no, Mr. Gurk.”
“No problem, Elise,” Kirby said, turning to go up the stairs. He took two at a time. Glenn climbed one at a time, his boots clomping the entire way.
When they reached their shared room, Kirby closed the door and slid the bolt to lock it. The room was small, but it had one shuttered, narrow window that offered Petie access to the room, and a place to roost at night. The room held four bunks that folded up against the wall, stacked in pairs like bunk beds. Glenn used a worn mattress on the floor. There were five small trunks that often served as tables, while the bottom pair of folded down beds served as chairs. The room had a magical light set next to the door. The spot where the Light Spell had been cast could be covered by a metallic cup attached to a hinge. The walls were painted a dull yellow and the floor was made of hardwood planks. Since they mainly used the room for sleep, and were out and about during the day, it sufficed.
The Glade House offered an early breakfast, usually of oats and honey, and an evening meal. It wasn’t fancy. Usually a decent cut of meat, potatoes or beets, apple cider and bread.
They also had a locked storage bin in the cellar. All in all, clean, safe, and not too expensive. The proprietor, Keri Lovelace, had abilities as an enchantress and was somewhat of a mystery—and made sure things stayed that way. Her two small guard dogs, Rocky and Chili, even liked Kirby. It was rare for canines to befriend anyone with goblin blood coursing through their veins. It was one of the established “norms” set forth in the Player’s and Game Master’s Guides.
As soon as Stephi crawled out of the sack and onto her bottom bunk, Glenn asked, “You okay, Marigold?”
She fluttered her butterfly-like wings and nodded. Somehow, she’d been able to fold, or collapse them while riding in the sack.
To Glenn she looked like a child’s doll, about twenty-five percent bigger than a Barbie doll, sitting on the bed. Once Kirby opened the window and real sunlight reached in, her iridescent wings caught the light and reflected all the colors of the rainbow.
Glenn refrained from mentioning his observation. Rainbows would probably be a sore topic for the foreseeable future. Nevertheless, like rainbows, her shimmering wings were a thing of beauty.
Petie landed on the ledge, and that brought a brief smile to her face. It faded when she looked around at the room. It must’ve seemed like a cavern to her. Glenn could relate. He still wasn’t used to being a gnome, always looking up and having to negotiate a world built for people taller than him.
“If everything’s cool,” Kirby said, “I’m gonna go look for Lysine and Kalgore. They like hanging out at the livestock auction. Although that might be done by now.”
Stephi didn’t say anything.
Kirby’s eyebrows shot up. “You okay with that, Marigold?”
She nodded and gave him a thumb’s up.
He rested a hand on Glenn’s shoulder. “I’ll be back as quick as I can, Jax.” With that, he unbolted the door, stepped out, and was gone.
Glenn stood in the middle of the floor, trying to think of something to say. Before he came up with anything, Stephi’s body began to shake, and she broke down in tears.
Glenn’s eyes teared up, too. He didn’t know what to do, what to say. How could he comfort her? He climbed up on the bunk and sat next to Stephi, his legs dangling over the edge.
Stephi slid over next to Glenn and leaned against him. She wept quietly, hands covering her face.
Although she wasn’t saying a word, Glenn thought about Stephi’s voice, as a fairy. It wasn’t as loud compared to when she was over six feet tall, but it had the same tone. Not higher pitched, like he expected.
Glenn wanted to put his arm around his friend as best he could, but he was afraid he might damage her wings. And an arm around her might make her feel uncomfortable. Stephi was a third of his height—and he was short.
What could he say? Everything will be okay? How could he say that? He had no idea, and it’d be a lie. Glenn just shook his head in despair, once again feeling completely lost in the game world. Biting his lip, he did his best to be strong and keep his own tears from flowing.
After a moment he reached into his pocket and pulled out his red and black handkerchief. He unwrapped it, set the few coins it held aside, and offered it to Stephi.
She took it and wiped her teary face.
Even after crying for ten minutes, her eyes didn’t appear too red or swollen. Probably her Appearance Score, or some fairy thing. Even with the tears stopped, Glenn knew it was a mask. Behind it, his friend was frightened and hurting, probably more than he’d ever been. Maybe not as frightened as when he’d faced the husk mummy, but that happened so fast, and was resolved fast. Stephi’s situation wouldn’t be.
“I want to go home so bad, Jax,” Stephi said, her voice quivering. “I saw that gold and that was all I could think about—we need it to go home.” She took a steadying breath. “I should’ve listened to you and Gurk.
“He was so little. I thought I could just use my Slumber Spell and...”
She leaned against him and started crying again. Not as out of control as before. Glenn figured she needed to get it all out, especially before Kirby found Derek and brought him back.
Glenn gently put his arm around Stephi. “I know what you mean, Marigold. I think about it all the time.”
She looked at him. “Really, you do?”
He sighed. “When I’m not trying to figure this world out. When I’m scared, not knowing how to survive. It’s like I hardly ever know what’s going on.”
“I know what you mean.” Once again she took a calming breath. “I guess compared to you, I’m lucky...” She looked down at herself. “Or was...well, still am in a way.”
Glenn waited for Stephi to organize her thoughts.
She reached down and fingered the soul gem attached to a silver chain strapped across her chest. The chain looked more like a thin bike chain on her than a delicate necklace chain. “I can talk to Byeol, because she—her soul’s—held in my gem.” She lifted the enchanted Alexandrite gemstone that dangled from the chain. It was almost half the size of her fist. “And I have Petie. He’s not like a person, but he’s more than a pet could ever be.” She shook her head. “I can’t explain it. But those are things you don’t have, and I do.”
He forced a smile, which became a genuine one. “Well, when I’m hanging out with you and Gurk, I usually feel pretty good. I don’t miss home nearly as much.”
She leaned in and hugged him.
He laughed. “We sound like a couple of homesick kids, stuck at a summer camp we didn’t want to go to.”
The embers of mirth in Stephi faded. In a voice that cracked, she said, “Camp Never-ending Nightmare.”
Glenn was still sitting on the bed next to Stephi, lost in thought, when someone knocked on the door. It made him jump.
“Who is it?” he asked.
“It’s Keri.” Her worldly-aunt voice was reassuring.
Stephi looked around, eyes wide in panic. “She can’t see me,” Stephi whispered.
Glenn hadn’t thought that far ahead. Then he remembered what Kirby’d said about fairies, and how people reacted to them. He pointed to the discarded canvas sack on the floor and looked at Stephi with eyebrows raised.
“Keri Lovelace, the owner of the Glade House, where you’re staying,” the voice said from the other side of the door.
“Just a moment,” he said, hopping down off the bed.
“I know what happened, and Marigold’s situation.”
“Did Gurk talk to you?”
“No, I have my own sources.” She paused. “I believe I may be able to help.”
Glenn met Stephi’s gaze. She gulped and shrugged her tiny shoulders.
Trying to think like Kirby, Glenn asked, “If I might ask, what’s your source?” He asked “what” because there could be magic involved. The Glade House’s owner was an enchantress, after all.
“I got a message from a friend of mine,” Keri said, familiar sassiness in her voice. “She’s a wood nymph.”
Glenn didn’t know what to expect for an answer, but that wasn’t it. He’d heard of nymphos, as in nymphomaniacs, but he didn’t think that fit. It sounded more nature-like, and he’d heard rumors that Keri had fae blood in her veins. It seemed like half the people were half human and half something else, or maybe a quarter something else, or an eighth. And people always seemed to be hiding something. He scratched his head. Technically, he was hiding something—being a human from another world, trapped in a gnome healer’s body.
Glenn again turned to Stephi, with a raised eyebrow.
She stood on the bed, Kirby’s makeshift sarape garment hanging from her shoulders, looking like she was ready to flee. Where to, Glenn wasn’t sure, until he remembered the open window.
Stephi whispered, “Whatever you think, Jax.”
He whispered back, “She’s gonna find out, eventually.”
“Okay.”
Glenn didn’t take Stephi’s “okay” as a vote of confidence. More in resignation, along the lines of: What else could happen to make things worse?
Glenn moved to the door and reached for the bolt.
Stephi said, “But no dogs.”
The gnome nodded and spoke through the door. “Where are Rocky and Chili?”
“On their mats in the parlor, taking their mid-morning nap.”
Glenn wondered what use the two little dogs were, other than barking at intruders, and companionship. They did entertain some of the people who stayed at the Glade House. But for Stephi now, they’d be the size of bears.
Glenn opened the door a crack and peered out. Only Keri stood in the narrow hallway, wearing a gray linen blouse, blue skirt that reached to just above the lacing of her heavy black boots, and a white apron. Her hair hung in loose curls down to her shoulder. From experience, Glenn knew when she became angry, her hair somehow straightened.
The boarding house owner had brown eyes that matched her brunette hair. She had full red lips, expressive eyebrows and faint dimples when she smiled. It was normally an infectious smile, as was her laugh.
He opened the door a little wider. “Come on in,” he said. As soon as the boarding house owner stepped into the small room he pushed the door closed and bolted it.
Petie, resting on the window sill, chirped a greeting.
Keri looked down at Stephi standing on the bed, frightened and half-ready to fly away. The boarding house owner clasped her hands together and said, “Oh, honey. It’s true.”
Those words brought on another flood of tears. This time, they weren’t accompanied with sobs, just sadness and despair.
After a moment, Keri stepped over to the lower bunk across from Stephi. “May I sit and have you tell me all that happened?”
Stephi took in a deep, unsteady breath and nodded.
Keri pulled down Ron’s bed and sat on it. Her booted feet rested flat on the floor. She dropped her clasped hands onto the apron covering her lap. “Whenever you’re ready, hon.”
Glenn climbed back up onto Stephi’s bed and sat next to her as she told the tale, starting from fishing on the river bank and seeing the rainbow, to their trek back to Three Hills City and the Glade House.
Glenn didn’t say anything, and Keri didn’t ask for clarification while she intently listened, even when a question might be called for. Especially the part about Stephi’s vague motivation for taking possession of the gold. Of course, who wouldn’t want a pot of gold?
Keri Lovelace had told Glenn, during their first encounter, that everyone should be allowed their secrets. She must truly believe those words.
Although telling the Glade House owner what happened upset Stephi in parts, she worked through them. In doing so, the process instilled a sense of calm by the end. Or maybe it was resignation. Glenn wasn’t sure.
After a moment of silence between the three, Glenn said, “Gurk went to find Lysine and Kalgore.”
Keri’s left eyebrow arched, then she nodded. “I have to ask, Marigold. Why are you wearing that?”
Stephi looked down at her crudely fashioned sarape, cut from her blouse’s fabric. “Gurk made it for me, so I had something to wear.”
Glenn wondered what else she was supposed to wear. Maybe some infant’s clothes, modified by a tailor? Or a doll’s dress?
“You don’t know much about fairies?” Keri said. It was less a question and more a statement.
“Gurk does,” Stephi responded. “He just didn’t have time to tell me anything. We were fighting, and then running from the duke’s soldiers and then trying to get back here. And then...”
Keri finished, “And then your half-goblin friend, who’s knowledgeable about fairies, went to go find your other two friends.”
Glenn suspected that Stephi, being an elf, probably should know something about fairies. Being a “woodland creature” he probably should, too. “Gurk’s smart,” Glenn said. “He knows a lot more than...he knows a lot about a lot of things.”
Keri took a deep breath. “Well, your friend may know a lot about fairies, but I certainly don’t. Not enough for your concern.” Her face took on an intense, serious look. “But I know someone who does, Marigold. You should meet her.”
“Who?” Stephi asked.
“Her name is Emma. She’s an old...” Keri rolled her eyes in embarrassment. “Better to say, a longtime friend.”
“Can she come here?” Glenn asked. “To the Glade House.” He wanted to add: Before Kalgore gets here.
Keri’s lips pressed together. She shook her head. “No, you’ll have to go to her.”
“Why?” Glenn asked. “Marigold can’t go out. Not when she can be seen. Gurk said people don’t like fairies. Hate them and blame them for things that go wrong.”
“I’ll go,” Stephi interjected. She fluttered down onto the floor, next to the discarded, stolen sack. “I can go in this again.”
Keri stood, which caused Stephi to shy away a step. “I apologize honey,” she said. “I imagine the world’s a much bigger place now, and normal things will be unsettling until you get used to them.” She straightened her apron. “All the more reason you should meet Emma.”
She glanced at Glenn as he hopped down off the bed. “I have a creel basket,” she said. “It’ll be more comfortable for Marigold.”
“A creel basket?” Glenn asked.
“A wicker basket where you stow fish you catch,” Keri replied. “It has a lid and shoulder strap. I might’ve lent it to you, if you and Gurk were better at fishing.” She smiled down at Stephi. “Don’t worry, it’s clean and doesn’t smell like fish.”
“Okay,” Glenn said.
“I’ll go get it from the cellar. And I’ll tell Elise that you two have gone with me to visit a friend, and that she should share that information with your friends, when she sees them.”
Keri paused, and tipped her head. “Be aware, if you haven’t already discovered it, Marigold.” Her brown eyes widened, to emphasize seriousness. “The touch of iron will be worse than that of a red-hot coal, and steel like a blast of scalding steam.”
Glenn opted to leave his shield behind, as he often did in town. Having it slung over his back would’ve made it difficult to also shoulder the strap attached to the creel basket. He had to agree, it was a better solution than a canvas sack. The folded hand towel for cushioning also made a difference.
The gnome healer had trouble keeping up with Keri as she wove around various citizens and workers while making their way down the cobblestone streets. She only stepped around and ahead of slow ones. Those were the ones that travelled a pace more attuned to Glenn’s preferred rate. Nevertheless, she never allowed the gnome to fall more than a few strides behind.
The way the Glade House owner observed people and places reminded him of Kirby. She had street smarts. And a lot of friends, or at least acquaintances, as she seemed to exchange a quick nod and smile, or a brief hello, at least a hundred times.
Glenn was pretty sure they were making their way to Duke Huelmer’s high-walled keep in the center of Three Hills City. Glenn’s keen gnomish nose never got used to the rank odor of the common workers who rarely bathed, or washed their tattered clothes. It was especially noticeable because of the day’s rising heat. The hot sun did work to quell the cacophony of sounds, the city’s background noise. People put in less effort shouting at each other, or merchants, less intensity hawking their wares. Friendly conversations were brief, while cursing at beasts of burden, and the resulting animal protests, demonstrated a heat-drained energy.
The waves of body odor retreated, as did the frequency of horse and oxen manure piles on the streets. The region around the duke’s keep was well maintained, and fewer people travelled the cleaner, quieter streets. Those that were traveling rode mainly in carriages or on horseback to their compressed but impressive estates. Each estate contained unique, tall buildings and elaborate wrought-iron fences. A few porters or delivery men with filled mule-drawn carts travelled toward the keep. The empty carts, or the carts hauling empty crates, were going the opposite direction, past where Keri led Glenn.
Petie easily kept up with them, flying from rooftop to rooftop. Glenn figured Stephi, in the basket, watched their progress through her familiar’s eyes.
Finally, when they were within fifty yards of the keep’s main wall, Keri took him left, down a short narrow pathway that led between two rows of tall taxus bushes. That path led up to a walled compound. A guard blocked the entry. He wore chainmail and was armed with a halberd resting butt down in one hand and a short sword hanging on his belt. He looked big, and hot, and anything but pleasant. Behind him stood an iron gate with a latticework of three-quarters inch thick steel bars. Beyond it stood a second, similar gate.
The wall was three feet thick and built from limestone blocks. Atop it grew some sort of twisting vines with inch-long thorns. Glenn figured Kirby could probably find a way over, but Glenn knew there was no way he could get over it, at least without a ladder and sustaining plenty of thorn wounds. Ignoring the wall, Glenn doubted Kalgore could take the guard, even if his party member ‘rolled’ successfully for Initiative every round of combat.
Keri didn’t break stride as she approached the guard. Glenn followed, trying to maintain a friendly, unconcerned demeanor.
“I am here to consult with one of the garden’s caretakers,” Keri said with a friendly lilt in her voice.
The guard smiled, then seemed to catch himself. “Who’s your friend, Lovelace?”
She stepped aside. “This is Jax. He is assisting me this afternoon.”
The guard eyed Glenn suspiciously. “Have I seen you somewhere before?”
Glenn stepped forward, his boots clomping on the stone path. The taxus bushes were meticulously trimmed. They also formed a sturdy barrier, keeping people on the five-foot wide path. Through the two gates he spotted a host of colorful flowers bordering the path beyond.
“I’m pretty short, sir,” the gnome healer said. “So a lot of people overlook me. But gnomes are rare, so when they do notice me, they tend to remember.” He shrugged. “I see a lot of humans, but with the crowds, from my vantage, I don’t get a good look at faces.”
The guard cocked his head. “No...I remember seeing you somewhere...”
Glenn’s heart raced. Probably the Blue Bugle, when he was on stage collecting thrown coins while Stephi pole danced. He kept his friendly smile going, counting on the fact that humans tended to have a favorable opinion of gnomes. “Do you ever eat at the Ox Wagon?”
The guard shook his head.
It’d been a long time since Glenn visited the Ox Wagon, so he tried somewhere more recent. “I get tea at the Red Brick. Maybe there?”
The guard shook his head again. “What’re you helping Lovelace consult about?”
“Morphation and invasive species.” It was the first thing he could think to say. It was completely made up but sounded technical and plausible, he hoped. And sounded right for someone visiting a flower garden.
He gulped. Unless it had nothing to do with the flower garden, and Emma worked inside the duke’s keep.
“Okay,” the guard said to Keri. He called back over his shoulder. “Brutt, it’s Lovelace and a gnome. Open’er up.”
A second guard from within the compound used a different skeleton key to open each gate and let them in.