“Their success could mean your end,” Stump said, settling onto the soft grass outside Rivercene.
The innkeeper sipped at her sweet tea and rocked on the old metal chair. Cicadas chirruped around them while lightning bugs flickered through the darkness.
“I’ve lived a long life, Stump.”
“We’ve felt the shift,” Whip said, her voice still gruff, but a higher pitch than Stump. “They’ve re-anchored the Devil’s Knot.”
The innkeeper smiled at the pair. She’d known them as long as she could remember, and that was a very long time indeed.
“Everyone dies, my friends,” the innkeeper said. “Even you. Even me. Even the immortals.”
Stump looked away before snapping his gaze back to the innkeeper. “You do not understand, my goddess.”
“Don’t call me that.”
Stump studied the ground for a moment. “Their people, they’ve poisoned your world. I fear if you should die, nothing in this place will survive.
“I know…”
“But you don’t,” Whip said. “You haven’t been connected to your body in centuries. It’s worse than it’s ever been. If you don’t rise against them, I fear Stump’s predictions will be far outdone by reality.”
The innkeeper nodded. “I understand. But the world is always reborn in the fires of death. A forest will rise again. Life will rise again. For now, we help those we call our allies. Reach out to those who will listen.”
“You grow soft,” Stump said. “The world will need your fury again one day.”
The innkeeper took another sip of tea. “And should my bones be alive once more, the world will have it.”
The long tendrils of Whip’s willows twitched. “What of the Eldritch things Nudd has set upon the commoners?”
“Do not face them,” the innkeeper said. “They are beyond us, I fear.”
“The worst of them are nearing Denver, according to the talking box.”
“Television,” the innkeeper said. “It’s called a…” She squeezed her forehead. “Never mind. Nudd’s trying to divide our forces. Morrigan is holding steady at Falias.”
“If the commoners die in numbers, they will no longer be allies,” Stump said.
“I know. That’s why we’re going to do something stupid.”
Stump frowned at the innkeeper. “What do you mean?”
“Put a madman in front of a monster, and he’ll fight it.”
Whip sat up straighter. “You mean to unleash that creature?”
The innkeeper smiled and sipped her tea.
Thank you for spending time with the misfits! I’m blown away by the fantastic reader response to this series, and am so grateful to you all. The next book of misadventures is called The Book of the Wing, and it’s available soon (or maybe now because I’m lazy about updating these things).
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The Book of the Wing
The Vesik Series, book #15
By Eric R. Asher