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CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

IN WHICH THE PARTY RETURNS HOME

With weight lifted from our hearts, the final stretch went smoothly.

Lu’s sense of direction worked like a compass to guide us home, and we avoided the section of road overrun by insects.

Autumn came on schedule, adding a faint chill to the breeze and coloring the trees a richer shade of their usual pastel hues.

Before we knew it, we were climbing the hill to the clearing we called home.

There were more tents than there had been when we set out, and a fresh-faced girl with red hair and expressive almond-shaped eyes prepared a brace of rabbits fireside.

It appeared our company had grown again.

I hadn’t the chance to ask for our family by name, as Vee hurried out from her tent, squealing in excitement, to gather me in a tight embrace.

“So glad to see you safe!” she cried, holding me at arm’s length so she could look me up and down.

“We got your letter, but news of the island nation all the way out here has been so limited. And with Yrra and Daethie staying, we thought that perhaps you would also decide to give us up for the city life. Not that we would have blamed you!”

“I could never,” I assured her as she clasped my forearms in an Epitgig greeting .

“This is home,” Hohem agreed, gaze softening as he took in the familiar space. Across the way, our male avida snorted a welcome to Devynn, who lifted her head to regard him. Vee noticed Vyrain’s absence, and her face fell.

“Vyrain is missing. Did something…?”

I spared Hohem the discomfort of having to explain. “The situation on Munarzed was more of a mess than we realized. Vyrain was brave and fought well, but…”

“Oh!” Vee’s hand flew to her mouth.

“Are Ked and Jük around?” I asked, hoping to tell the story with all present.

“Picking up some things in town.” Shaking her head, Vee shot a sympathetic look Hohem’s way. “Come, settle in. You must be exhausted. We’ve had some new additions and other news, but there’s time for all that. Oh, poor dears. Here, let’s set up your tents.”

The doting mother would hear no objections. She followed us to the back of the cart, and her eyes went wide when the cover was lifted to reveal stacks upon stacks of leftover supplies and numerous bags of coin. Hohem and Luthri wasted no time unloading.

“What a bounty!” Vee exclaimed, reverent.

Pulling one of the bags from its place, I explained, “On top of the promised reward, the Kereti family outfitted us well for the return journey. The cart and avida were also their contribution. We’ll have to figure out what to do with all of this.”

Vee nodded. “It would be a good idea to bury the money. Perhaps in several locations. And open a line of credit in Vhalder so as not to attract attention with so much coin.”

A warm blend of relief and gratitude swept through me. I’d almost forgotten what it was like to have her around. “Sounds good. I’ll leave that planning to you.”

“Morak can help with this as well; let me find him.”

Vee disappeared before I had the chance to ask about the new arrivals. She returned before long with a redheaded boy, who collected the bags I’d set down without complaint. Working together, Luthri, Vee, the boy, and I unburdened the cart while Hohem set up our tents.

Jük and Ked arrived as we were introducing Devynn to our male avida .

The ornery old Epitgig almost smiled—must have been a trick of the light.

In celebration of our return, he went out again to buy ingredients for supper.

Ked, still wearing Lu’s gifted earring, tugged me along to introduce me to the new friends.

They were siblings: two girls and a boy, adolescents, all with the same mild manners and foxlike features.

Dinner was remarkably quiet without Yrra, Daethie, or Vyrain around. We told our story in pieces between mouthfuls, leaving out the gory details for the children’s sake. Ked and Vee hung on every word. Jük made an effort to seem indifferent, but his spoon missed his bowl twice.

When I got to the part about Vyrain’s funeral, we shared a moment of silence.

Vee grasped Hohem’s hand and, deciding that wasn’t enough, gathered him in a fervent hug instead.

Him being twice her size, she had to put significant effort into her grip.

Ked enthusiastically joined the two of them.

Inspired, Luthri and I followed suit. Jük even reached over to pat his wife on the shoulder.

The group hug lasted until the siblings excused themselves to bed.

Things returned to normal, for the most part.

As it turned out, being rich didn’t make much of a difference. It was all relative—the reward money may have been life-changing for one or two people, but divided amongst eight, less so.

That was how Luthri and I found ourselves at The Bitter Brother rather than a more luxurious establishment, sharing one of the benches where I’d met him for the first time some months ago. Strange how things had a tendency to go full circle.

“Used to being on your own, you must be glad for the peace and quiet now,” I remarked, sipping from my third cup of flower wine.

I’d forgotten how nice it was to relax with a drink at the end of a long day.

The pleasant buzz of alcohol loosened my muscles and cast everything in a rosy glow, allowing me to temporarily forget responsibilities and enjoy myself.

Luthri considered my statement for a beat before shaking his head. “I had siblings, remember. I think I miss it. Being part of something, having friends like this… It’s like being part of a big family again. I was starting to take things for granted.”

What an optimistic way of looking at it. I shrugged, swirling the liquid in my mug. “It’s normal for people to come and go in this lifestyle, so you’re not necessarily going to be part of the same thing all the time. Not like a true family.”

In that infuriatingly observant way of his, he understood what I wasn’t saying. His gaze turned sympathetic. “That must be hard.”

“It’s not easy,” I admitted, thinking of all the people I’d gotten to know and lose over the years. “But that’s life.” To my utter stupefaction, my eyes began to water. Hurrying to address the evidence with my sleeve, I exclaimed, “Ugh, what’s with the waterworks? Don’t look.”

Lu’s head twisted dramatically to face the dining room. “I don’t see anything.”

“It’s the alcohol,” I grumbled, taking another gulp nonetheless. The burn going down brought my thoughts to another uncomfortable place—namely, our relationship, or lack thereof.

I was the one who had said to keep things casual, but what happened now? Did we go our separate ways? Did Luthri stay and resume his personal “quest,” sleeping with me during the week and coming to the bar to pick up sidepieces on the weekends ?

Was there a chance of cementing this? “Us” becoming a permanent fixture?

Whatever the case, better to know sooner than later. I was already more invested than I’d like to admit, and the unknown was beginning to chafe.

“So,” I started, keeping the question casual, “what’s the next chapter for you? Thinking of sticking around, picking up work around here? Visit your mom? Maybe find another group of poor souls setting out on an adventure and see if you can tag along again?”

His reaction to each suggestion didn’t reveal anything useful. “Well, this last one emptied my purse, so… it might be some time before I can get back on the road.”

So, he’d be leaving too. I kept my tone light. “Ha. Well, at least you’ve got another notch in your belt to show for it.” Staring into my mug, it occurred to me that I’d need another drink soon. Maybe something stronger—the cheery sweetness didn’t feel right.

“Another notch?” Lu contemplated my words. “Oh, sleeping with you, you mean?”

My shoulder jerked in acknowledgment. “That was your goal, right?”

“In the beginning.” Talons rapped against the table in a progressive rhythm. “But I won’t lie—I’ve enjoyed our time together very much. We mesh well, you and I. Don’t you think so? It’s hard to believe we’ve only known each other a few weeks.”

“Well, a lot happened in those weeks,” I reasoned. “A lot of experiences that bring people together. Sharing a campsite, traveling the same roads. Almost dying a handful of times.”

“Don’t forget the fucking.”

“That too. The highlight of the trip, really.”

“I might even go so far as to say I like you,” Lu continued, watching my face.

I gave him nothing. “You know, I have that effect on people.”

He barked a laugh. “All right, we both deserve more credit than this. Let’s not be stubborn about it. Are you hoping I’ll leave, Mar? Or are you asking if I want to stay with you?”

I want you to stay . I could say it. But people deserved to make that choice for themselves, without outside influence. So I waved off his question. “That’s up to you. You’re an adult.”

Luthri’s lips pursed. Amusement danced in his eyes. “Goddess, you’re difficult. I love it. Let me try that again, and don’t think so hard this time. Would you be happy if I stayed?”

That was easy enough to answer. “I would.”

“Then it’s settled.”

Behind a mask of nonchalance, my heart soared. Did he mean?—?

Luthri leaned back—forgetting that there was nothing but open air behind him—and would have upended himself onto the floor if I hadn’t leapt to catch his arm.

“Eita! I would ask how many you’ve had, but you’re not even drinking,” I scolded, yanking him back into place beside me. He recovered quickly, scooting closer so that he could sling an arm around my shoulder. His lips brushed against the shell of my ear.

“I’m drunk on love, kiannim ,” he whispered.

“You’re ridiculous,” I sputtered, but the word choice hit home, sending butterflies swarming in the pit of my stomach.

I couldn’t let myself melt—who knew what ‘love’ meant to a man like Luthri?

It could be something he threw around without regard for feelings.

I needed clarification; even if we weren’t on the same page, we should at least be in the same book.

“When you say ‘love’…”

He expected my hesitation. With a twinkle in his eye, Lu responded, “The day they invent alcohol derived from meat, I’ll be almost as happy as the day you agreed to be friends with the possibility of something more.

Mar, you enchant me. I’m absolutely charmed.

Entirely besotted. And, most importantly, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.

If you let me, I would get on the roof right now and sing your praises to the people of Vhalder so that everyone knows?—”

His voice had steadily risen, attracting the attention of several nearby patrons now reflecting his dumb grin. Hiding my face, I hissed, “Okay, okay, I get it! That’s enough!”

Planting an elbow on the table, Luthri leaned forward and caught a hold of my chin, directing my gaze back to him. “You don’t have to say it back,” he told me, “but I wanted you to know. No questions about it, no doubts: I’m in this as long as you want me.”

My face grew hot. “I hear you.”

“Good.” Lu released my chin. “And if you need, I’ll say it again.”

“That won’t be necessary. You’ve been plenty clear,” I muttered under my breath, busying myself with counting the mana lamps on our side of the dining room.

Motion caught my eye. On the opposite side, a stool had been set in front of the stairs that lead to the second floor. An Alf bard with a stringed instrument strapped to his back was excusing himself from a conversation with one of the faun bartenders.

I blinked. “Live music, huh? Didn’t think this was that kind of venue.”

Luthri followed my gaze. “A serenade. Isn’t that lovely?”

Once comfortably perched, the musician pulled his instrument around to his front with a flourish and greeted the room at large.

“Hello, everyone. I’m thrilled to share a brand-new ballad with you today, straight from the capital.

Chances are it’s your first time hearing it, but if not, well, lucky you—you get to enjoy it again. Tips are much appreciated.”

A smattering of laughter rippled through the room. Clearing his throat, the musician strummed a simple tune and began to sing:

Let me tell you the tale of an island nation,

Beauty unsurpassed, under subjugation.

A hero came along ? —

The subject of this song ? —

To liberate its people from a terrible evil

’Twas foretold long ago that a fair-haired youth

Would one day be a lauded hero—a half-truth

Little did they know

He’d give his life to overthrow

A tyrant with a city built on mind control…

“Well. Now we know which was the chosen one,” Luthri whispered, breaking the spell.

Horrified, I swiveled to face him. “Did you just—? That is not appropriate.”

Lu sobered instantly, regret chasing all humor off his face. “Ah, I’m sorry… I felt that it—I mean, you know I—sometimes a joke is all that comes to mind.”

“You should work on that.”

“Sure.” After a beat, Luthri took the opportunity to add, “And maybe you could work on that prickly exterior of yours? It’s not the most effective way to make friends, you know.”

“That’s my best feature,” I countered in a frosty tone. “Weeds out the weaklings so that only quality is left.” Cackling at my own joke, I drained my cup.

Luthri’s shoulders relaxed. “So. What do we do now?”

“For now… get another drink.” I tapped the side of my empty flagon.

He laughed and signaled the waitress, who acknowledged us with a brief nod. When a fresh drink was placed in front of me, I answered his question. “What do we do? Anything we want. We have each other; we have money. The world is our oyster.”

Lu dropped a hand to my thigh and squeezed.

I responded by resting my head against his shoulder.

We enjoyed the music like that for a while, engaging one another with low conversation whenever a detail in the song wasn’t quite accurate.

Overall, it was a beautiful tribute to our friend.

What better way to immortalize the tragedy of Munarzed ?

After some time, Lu ventured, “What’s an oysturr?”

Oh, brother. Where do I begin? Thank the Goddess I was having this conversation drunk. I wrapped my hands around my mug and breathed a deep, cleansing breath. “All right. I can’t believe I’m doing this, but… I think it’s time I told you where I’m from…”