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But she selected one of light blue and insisted with great persistence that I at least try it.

I acquiesced, and was amazed to find it framed my shoulders and draped over my breasts and hips with a form-fitting flattery I had never experienced.

The back dipped low, revealing most of my spine, and there were pearls draped in layers suspended between the two small shoulder straps, dangling across my shoulder blades down to the dip of my lower back.

It shimmered and pooled around my feet like glacial water.

El practically squealed with delight when I exited the dressing room and spun in front of the tall mirror, and I laughed self-consciously.

“Halja! It’s perfect for you! We’ll get your measurements and have it tailored to you. It’s too good.” She clapped her hands once, decisively, rising to find the shop keeper.

“El!” I called after her. “El, stop, I really can’t afford this!”

“Nonsense!” she waved a dismissive hand behind her without turning around as she disappeared amongst racks of clothes.

I stood helplessly in the gown until she returned with the shop owner, an older man with kind eyes and knuckles swollen with years of precise, delicate work.

“It is truly perfect for you, I must agree,” he said, and held up a measuring tape. “May I?”

I sighed, feeling it would be rude to protest more. “Yes, please, and thank you. It is an incredible dress. But really, El, I can’t afford this. No matter how beautiful it is.”

“You can’t, but I can.” El winked.

“No! I can’t let you do that. I mean, I can’t even pay you back,” I argued as the clothier wrapped the tape around my waist with practiced gentleness.

“You really don’t need to pay me back.” El shrugged. “Consider it a welcome gift.”

“Fine, fine. But I have your measurements now, safe with Mister Hartchen here. So you never know…”

In another shop, I purchased a more practical––but still beautiful––linen dress, a deep ocean-blue in the comfortable Seonaid style.

We picked out two pairs of pants and several more shirts, since I had fled Eilith’s with little more than the clothes on my back.

In fact, El had insisted I borrow an outfit of hers that day while my clothes were washed and dried, consisting of form-fitting pants and a slim long-sleeved shirt under a warm sweater.

Finally, we stopped at an armorer. The shop smelled of leather and acrid metal.

I shifted from foot to achy foot, my legs tiring quickly with the long afternoon of walking after days of riding, while El spoke to a woman with strong arms and black eyes like my own.

We discussed what specifications I would need, its flexibility, weight, thickness.

El led the conversation, and I did my best to learn all I could, but I was distracted by the stands displaying set after set of incredible leather armor.

Some were slim and thin, flexible and containing no metal at all.

Others were thin but still malleable, with extra layers of leather containing hammered metal studs throughout the shoulder pauldrons and chest plates.

Still others were bulkier, with plates of steel across the chest, waist, thigh greaves, and bracers.

Most sets were assembled over a padded tunic for extra cushion against hard blows.

All were decorated with etchings and engravings of knotwork and runes, some depicting animals, others trees of life, stormy seas, or battle scenes.

I recognized the style from Byrgir’s armor.

The armorer measured me in more places than I had ever been measured for a garment in my life: Around my forearms, biceps, thighs, waist, bust, and more.

We placed an order for a custom set of leather armor, with hardened, studded leather pauldrons and a small steel breastplate shaped to my chest. El handed over the coin.

As we walked out, my increasing discomfort for her charity finally made its way to my voice, “El, I really appreciate this, but I don’t know how or when I’ll repay you.”

“Relax, Hal,” El said. “You need these things. Byrgir insisted I help you get clothes and order armor for you today. This money was his contribution. Which I’m sure came from Ironguard funds anyway.”

“Byrgir gave you some?” I asked. I stifled a smile at his thoughtfulness.

“Not a lot, for now. He said he’d get you weapons too, but he wanted to help you pick those out himself. I think he still feels bad he had to drag you away from Eilith’s like he did. And if this isn’t enough, you’re welcome to dig through my closet any time.”

“Thank you, El, really. I don’t know how to thank you enough. Your hospitality is beyond anything I’ve known.”

“Does it still count as hospitality if it’s between friends? Or is hospitality only for strangers?” El smiled.

Our final stop was a butcher, where I purchased a whole lamb, much to El’s confusion.

As we made the trek out to the stable, I explained to her that two of Eilith’s wolfdogs had followed us here.

When we reached the stable, I left the lamb outside and whistled.

Their hulking forms materialized in the dark doorway, as if light and shadow themselves, and El stepped back.

“Those are yours?” I could hear the uncertainty in her voice.

“They seem to have decided as much.” I opened the sack and dropped the lamb on the ground. They side-eyed El warily as they approached, but soon dug into their meal. I put out more hay for Anam and Byrgir’s mare, and ensured they had enough water.

“Halja, those aren’t wolfdogs. Those are just wolves. Actually, those are more than wolves.” She watched their jaws as bones snapped and cracked between them.

“Yes, I thought they were done growing months ago, but they just keep getting bigger. I don’t know what Eilith’s wolfdog found out there.”

“By the look of these two, she found a dire wolf,” El said. She watched them quietly a moment, then said, “You know, I have a back garden at the house. Quite a large one, with a little shed. If they’re well-behaved, they can stay there.”

“Would they be allowed within the city proper?” I asked, surprised that the sight of them dismantling another animal made her think bringing them around people would be a good idea, although I trusted them entirely myself.

“This city is full of people like you, me, and Eilith. Stranger beasts walk these streets all the time. But it is expected that they behave, and don’t threaten anyone unless threatened first.”

“They’re not a threat to anyone that isn’t a threat to me. So far, at least.”

“With the recent change in political climate that you nearly fell victim to, perhaps it would be best to keep them close,” El said, still watching them with a thoughtful look.

“Fair point. They did help Byrgir kill our pursuers on the road a couple days ago. Effective bodyguards,” I said.

“I would imagine these two and Byrgir would be a formidable combination. He’s somewhat of a beast himself.”

I tried to read her reaction to his name, discern the nature of her feelings or history with him. I did not dare use my power to read her emotions though, and without it I detected nothing.

“Brutal and effective,” I said, watching the wolves.

I checked Anam over and scratched behind his satin-coated ears as we waited for the wolves to finish their meal.

When they finally abandoned the carcass, I picked up what was left of the shattered bones and packed it back into the sack.

I whistled to them, and they followed us through the city to the house, heads low.

Although we did catch a few passing glances, El was right.

Nobody reacted with fear or confusion, just a curious eye.

And sure enough, to prove her earlier point, we passed a tall warrior woman followed by a huge, lumbering brown bear.

The bear and wolves sniffed in each other’s directions, the wolves taking a wide berth.

The bear’s nose continued to wiggle in the direction of the sack I carried as we passed.

El called a hello to the woman, and she returned the greeting with a nod and smile.

“Some of the Ironguard fight alongside non-human companions,” El explained. “They’ve been particularly helpful with the increase in shadowfiend presence lately.”

“So that’s happening here too?” I asked.

El nodded. “Happening all over Elvik, from what I’ve heard. These mountains aren’t as safe as they once were.”

“Have there been problems in Rhyanaes itself?” I asked.

“No, the fae wards protect Rhyanaes from any who don’t know the way here, and that includes creatures of shadow. But there are more in the surrounding mountains than ever, and folks from other regions have said the same. Have you seen them before?”

“Yes. That’s how I met Byrgir actually, and found my way to Eilith.”

“Ah, the mysterious head injury he alluded to last night,” El said, tipping her head back in a slow nod.

“The infamous head injury that dramatically changed the course of my life.” My tone was jesting, but the statement could not have been more true.

“Go on then, I want the story,” she prodded.

“I was riding from my home to Skeioholm. Thought I’d take a shortcut and stay north of the Glyg Road. I was cutting through the woods when I was stalked and then chased by a nuckelavee. I escaped across a river, but hit my head falling off my horse in the getaway.”

“Gods above, a nuckelavee? Nasty fuckers,” El said.

“Truly. They stink like a hundred rotting corpses too. Have you seen one before?” I asked.

“No, only heard of them. I know some Ironguard here have come across them. But I’ve seen a veritable menagerie of other shadowfiends out in these lands. I’ve gone along and helped the Ironguard clear them from nearby villages as well.”

“They’ve attacked villages near here as well?” I remembered Litha, the horror of a whole village under attack, the woman ripped in half in front of me.

“Rarely, but yes, they have. Usually just lone steadings, though sometimes there are so many they just make certain areas unsafe to travel through. Other times, legions of wraiths have swarmed entire towns.”

I shook my head. “And they have no guard to help them there.” There had always been a city guard in my own home village, but not its outlying steadings. It’s why all the elders preached the importance of skill with an ax or a bow. Nobody would save us but ourselves.

“No, and King Evander refuses to send aid,” El went on.

“The Council petitioned him for it a few times, even after the last of them were dismissed from his court. But he says he can’t spread his guard so thin, not with the threat of the shadowfiends to his own city.

He’s stationed his soldiers to protect the capital, Avanis, of course, and some other cities, but he can’t risk scattering his army to disparate villages. It would leave him too vulnerable.

“He said Avanis is open to all who need refuge, but he will send no one out to their assistance. And we all know that only means all humans who need refuge.”

I frowned. “Yet now he has no problem finding spare Paragon guards to send into those disparate villages to harass his own citizens.”

“Apparently not.”