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Daethie, having noticed my line of sight, landed on my shoulder with a huff of displeasure. “I’ve told him he should let it hang free—it makes a statement—but the poor thing’s spent far too much time around you ‘civilized’ folk and grown self-conscious.”

A navy hue suffused Yrra’s ears and the apples of his cheeks.

“Daethie,” he chastised, more strength behind his normally subdued tone. As the churlish pixie took flight to join him, he nodded a welcome to Narille and her guard. Sharp eyes scanned our party, and when the heads didn’t add up, his azure brows drew together. “Where is…?”

Hohem spoke before I could. “Didn’t make it,” he stated in a voice rough from disuse. Whether intended or not, his hand went to the satchel on his belt containing what remained of his brother. It was enough for Yrra to put the pieces together. His eyes closed.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “Vyrain was a good man. He will be mourned.”

Heads hung all around in an impromptu moment of silence.

Considering the timeline, I was forced to break it.

“We… wa nted to update you before we continued on to the capital to collect the reward and return Lady Narille to her family. We’ll come find you again when we’ve seen this through.

If the swamp hasn’t proved a sustainable resource by then, you’d be welcome to accompany us back to Vhalder. ”

Yrra opened his mouth, but Daethie was faster.

“You think we’re trying to get water out of a rock?” she exclaimed, crossing her arms. “Have a little faith. We’ll have this spot turned into paradise in no time. People will be jumping at the chance to cross through this way instead of getting robbed for some dumb bridge.”

Yrra made a sound of agreement. “I appreciate your concern, but I think this will suit us fine. Although…” He ducked his head. “Maybe we could still visit every once in a while. If you can keep us informed should the camp move, that would be appreciated.”

“Of course,” I agreed readily, though my heart squeezed in my chest. “We will miss you, but I’m thrilled for you. I hope you can make this a wonderful home.”

Yrra and Daethie exchanged bashful smiles.

Narille cleared her throat. “If that’s all…”

“Yes!” My spine snapped straight. “Well, best of luck with everything. I’m not sure when we’ll be able to swing by with your share of the reward, but I won’t forget.”

“Better not,” Daethie warned, a chirp of her wings driving home the point.

“I won’t,” I assured her, raising a hand in farewell. “See you soon.”

While I would have been satisfied traipsing through the wetlands, Narille directed us politely but firmly toward the bridge.

More a pier than a traditional bridge, the sturdy wood platform wound throughout the marsh, guarded by several large orcish fae and not far from the area we crossed when we last came this way.

How we missed it the first time, I had no idea.

The rest of us kept quiet as Narille took care of payment, and we crossed the bridge without issue.

It was clear that the novelty of this whole thing had worn off long ago, not just for our immediate party, still grieving, but for Narille and her guards as well.

Feeling the push, we picked up the pace. Home could not come soon enough.

Things took an unfortunate turn when we made it to the tracks after the last daytime train had passed. Despite everyone’s frustration, no blame was cast. We settled in beside the railroad to wait for the night train, eating a quick meal and dozing in shifts.

At last, the rattling of the rails had us all jumping upright, and lights pierced the gloom.

The train was an odd beast, bulky but aerodynamic, with the front engine a tarnished silver tone and quaint wooden coaches following in a neat row.

No earsplitting squealing of brakes was necessary, though a hot puff of air met us as the train slowed to allow us to board.

A few words with the conductor, and we were steered toward the rear, passing rows of benches, only some of which were occupied, and shelves for luggage. The dining car, quiet at the time, still smelled of food. Would it be too optimistic to hope for a hot meal at this hour?

The rest of the coaches were geared toward long journeys, with plush seats covered in dark velvet that called my name.

By the look of it, they could be turned down and made into sleeping quarters.

Some already made use of them. However, we didn’t stop there.

Narille waved us onward into a carriage sectioned off into quarters to provide greater privacy.

“Restrooms.” Narille tapped a panel before pointing to the opposite side. “And sleeping quarters. There will be more than enough space for us all. Please, make yourselves comfortable.”

While more luxurious than the public transportation I was familiar with, it wasn’t a cozy room in a villa by the ocean either. Had such comforts spoiled me already? Would it be difficult to return to tents? Maybe getting that cottage would be the right move after all.

I stood tall by Narille’s side as the others found their spaces and pulled out sleeping gear, playing my part as the group’s rock even as my eyelids grew heavier by the second.

Luthri’s head popped out, expression hopeful. “Mar… Would you like to?—”

A sharp shake of my head shut him up, and he obediently retreated into his room.

I waited another moment before excusing myself to use the bathroom.

My period had begun, necessitating the mutilation of a spare shirt to tide me over until I could retrieve proper supplies.

Alas, the hazards of travel for a woman were plentiful and common.

As I emerged, a conductor swept through the carriage to collect fares. Narille made no move to reach for her purse. Not knowing what to expect set me on edge. What if she didn’t keep an eye out for the finer details? Being unprepared could land us in all sorts of messes.

“Do we not need to pay?” I murmured, joining her once more.

Narille shook her head. “Traveling with a Kereti daughter has its perks. My family was largely responsible for the expanse of the railroad and keeps it running with significant contributions. There is not enough business to merit such a system otherwise.”

Well, la-dee-dah. But government subsidization made sense in this case—the train, though useful, was mostly empty. I couldn’t imagine they got that much business. And even less now that Narille was safely accounted for, though it would take time for that news to get around.

Not something I needed to worry about. “Good night, then, Narille. Sleep well.”

“Good night, Mar. The same to you.”

I nodded to the heiress and slipped into an empty sleeping section. The velvet benches were as comfortable as they looked, and sleep had no trouble finding me.