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DIVINE COLLECTOR 2
MARK TORR
 CONTENTS

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
 CHAPTER ONE

A few days ago, I’d remarked that waking up to the ample chests of
my lovers certainly beat out waking up on a hardwood floor. Today, I
happily added a comfortable pillow to the equation.
My neck thanked me heartily, even if my manhood still preferred
the extremely ample chest of the priestess, Mette.
Mette lay beside me in the small bed. The bed was so small, that
between the pair of us we were already nearly falling off the edge.
So there wasn’t really room to turn and use her… pillows for my
pillow.
Also complicating the matter was that Mette wasn’t the only
woman who shared my sleeping accommodations.
The redheaded and spritely Mira, formerly Mette’s temple
maiden, had apparently joined us sometime in the night. Her brilliant
red hair fell softly across my neck, and as I woke I realized that I’d
been more than accepting of her company.
Mira lay atop me, and not only was my right arm folded across
her back, my manhood also pressed fervently into her smooth
creamy thigh.
Little coos of happiness issued forth from the maiden’s lips, and I
felt my body react instinctively to the way she worked her hips back
and forth above me.
A great improvement to your other recent accommodations,
Pryvet.
 In spite of Mira’s hips, I knew the woman to still be asleep. And,
judging from the light, airy breaths that issued now and again from
Mette’s mouth, I knew the former priestess was as well the.
Not wanting to wake either of them with my rising, I let my head
lay back on the pillow and simply enjoyed the morning’s many
pleasant sensations.
Mette had stolen the covers in the night, which was fine by me.
Mira’s body served better to warm me than any blanket would have,
and her curves thrilled against me infinitely more seductively than
any collection of cotton could have.
The maiden smacked her lips in her sleep, and I heard her sigh
contentedly on top of me. “Pryv,” she cooed, as her sleepy arms
worked gently around my neck.
No way to get up now without waking both of them. Better just
relax and enjoy your fate, Pryvet.
Beside me, the black haired woman draped a lazy arm over Mira
and myself, drawing her body closer to our warmth. Also, drawing
her large, heavy breasts over to us. The priestess’s enormous
breasts swelled against my body tremendously, and I felt my
manhood surge at the touch.
But there were other things to pay attention to, as well.
Judging by the quality of the light that issued softly through my
window, the hour was still sometime before seven in the morning.
The birdsong that filtered through the windowpane told me much
the same. Although, I had to remind myself that I shouldn’t assume
I knew too much about the nature of those birds.
A few days ago, Mette, Mira, Kacie, and I had escaped almost
certain death by hiding out in these strange woods. The trees here
were like none that I had ever seen, in all my long travels
throughout the world. Mette, too, knew nothing of them.
I wonder where Kacie is right now, though? Probably getting a
last training session in with Wex’s wife, Eleanor, I’d imagine. She’ll
be a fury with a broadsword, if we can get her one.
Suddenly, I felt Mette’s lazily draped arm tighten around the
redhead and myself.
“Family,” I heard the former priestess say dreamily. “Together.”
 I smiled to hear her think that of us, even while sleeping. Then, I
chanced waking my two companions, and turned my head to look
against the room’s far wall.
The event which started this whole business was no doubt my
acquiring a Debt from this land’s goddess. The Mother, which is what
they called their goddess, was known to dispense magical powers to
males here. In exchange, she required a set number of children be
provided to her.
Should the man provide those impregnations, he would receive
the magic he’d bartered for. Should he fail to do so, he would die.
My Debt was positively huge. At thirty impregnations, I had my
work cut out for me, it was certain. But, also, I’d already knocked off
three of the requirements in under a week.
Suffice to say, I was moving in the right direction.
When I turned my head back to stare up at the ceiling, I found
Mira’s pretty face open and smiling at me.
“Morning, sleepyhead,” I said to the maiden. “When did you
come in last night?”
Mira blinked down at me and her smile widened. “I don’t know,”
she said. “Probably sometime after midnight. It felt wrong to be
sleeping without you, you know.”
This conversation caused Mette’s limbs to stir, and I felt the
priestess arch her back. Her breasts pressed more fully into me with
the motion.
“Although,” Mira continued. “I think we should probably upgrade
our bed situation here. I mean, I love sleeping on top of you, Pryv.
But, I’m a little worried I’d fall off…”
Then, the gorgeous redhead’s eyes flicked over to where my
Debt lay propped up against the wall.
Among the unusual things about my Debt was the fact that it had
been transformed into an unbreakable shield. Every time I bedded a
new woman, a little gap appeared in the surface. This meant that by
fulfilling my obligation, I was making myself more vulnerable to
attack.
It also meant that I unlocked a bit more of the huge magical
powers that were trapped inside it. Satisfying my Debt left me with
an interesting tradeoff, then.
On the one hand, sleeping with a new woman made me more
vulnerable to those attacks that seemed to swarm me like flies on a
dead deer.
On the other hand, it also allowed me to be more efficient
offensively.
“Besides,” Mira continued, “I already feel like I’m going to topple
off of this. And you’ve got a lot more women to go, yet. By the time
this Debt is satisfied, you’d have to create a tower of women to lay
on you, Pryv. I think we’d all appreciate a little space to spread out.”
I smiled at the redhead’s wisdom, then chuckled at the thought
of being trapped beneath a tower of women who all wanted to share
my bed.
“We’ll need a much bigger bed, if all thirty want to sleep in it at
the same time,” I grinned. “Hell, we’d probably need one the size of
this whole room, right?”
Mira hummed thoughtfully and laid her head back down on my
chest once more. She sighed contentedly, but didn’t seem to want to
answer my question. I figured she agreed.
Sighing myself, I let my head fall back to the pillow and enjoyed
the ability to wake up slowly, surrounded my women I cared for.
As my ears tuned back into the pleasant birdsong, the wind
through the trees, I heard two women’s voices float up through my
window, too.
“Hiyah!” Kacie’s cry slunk between the gaps in the windowpane.
“Pivot and pirouette!” Wex’s wife, Eleanor said sharply.
It sounded like they were trying to be quiet for us, but I knew
Kacie wasn’t eager to lose her trainer already. The blonde town girl
was probably trying to get in a final lesson, before Wex and Eleanor
left us in search of Wex’s missing second wife.
I knew I should go down and see how her training was coming
along, so I shifted Mira gently off of me. The maiden complained
softly as I leaned her against Mette’s full bosom, but settled in just
fine when I let her fall into my old place in the bed.
Mira smacked her lips happily again, and nestled closer to her
priestess. I watched with another swelling of my manhood, as Mira’s
red curls nuzzled close between Mette’s enormous breasts. Then, I
bent down and laid a soft kiss on both women’s heads, turned, and
got dressed.
After I was sufficiently prepared, I hefted my Debt onto my arm
and went downstairs, leaving the two women cuddling for warmth in
my bed.

Wex was seated at the long bar downstairs. He held a cup of dark
beer cradled in his hands, and his eyes looked nearly as bleary as
mine felt.
He must have heard me enter the room, though, because he
soon turned those bleary eyes up to mine.
“Ah,” he said. “Good morning, Pryvet. How are you feeling?”
I took a seat at the bar opposite him, since the gigantic man was
enjoying a morning pick me up and didn’t seem to want to rise.
When I sat, he reached heavily under the bar and pulled up a glass
full of what looked like his own beverage. This, he passed over to
me.
I eyed the glass suspiciously. I was no teetotaler, but even I
would usually turn down a beer before eight in the morning.
“Haven’t slept as good as last night since before I got this Debt,”
I said. “Only, you look a nightmare. And I know how heavy your
beers are, Wex. You’re supposed to head out today, right? Won’t
having one of those make your journey harder?”
Wex smiled mysteriously into his drink, then lifted it to his lips
and gulped down the rest of the stuff.
“Aye, it would be,” Wex said with a grin. “But, I’ve been getting
creative in my old age, Pryvet. This booze is hardly booze at all. I
imagine it’s less that five percent alcohol!”
Now that he’d finished his cup, he seemed much more chipper,
and I frowned at him. I wondered what all this could be about.
“Don’t you want to ask why I would make a beer with so little
alcohol?” Wex said.
 I sighed. There was no winning with Wex, sometimes. This
appeared to be exactly one of those times.
“Fine,” I said. “Wex, why in the name of all that’s good would you
brew a booze with so little alcohol?”
The man slapped the table with his huge palm suddenly. He was
so strong, and his hand so wide that the slap made my glass jump
up an inch from the bar top. I was a little worried it would crack, if
I’m honest.
“It’s because the purpose of this beer isn’t to get you drunk!”
Wex declared. “I’ve mixed a heavy concoction of tea leaves into it!
Drinking a single glass of this stuff is equivalent to the rush you get
from four glasses of the strongest tea, at least!”
I frowned at Wex’s excitement, but knew enough to trust him as
far as beer was concerned.
When they come of age, every man on the Free Isles receives a
Debt from the Mother. They also, therefore, receive the opportunity
to barter with the goddess for a magical reward. Wex, to everyone in
his former town’s delight, had bartered for brewery magic.
The man couldn’t make a bad beer if her tried. Well, I guess he
probably could if he tried. But I’d never known him to. And there
was no reason to not make the most excellent beers in existence, if
such a thing was easily possible.
I raised the glass to my nose and inhaled. The liquid inside
smelled as sharp as brambles, yes. But, it also had a certain earthy
pungency to it as well. All in all, it didn’t smell too dissimilar from a
dark ale, yet it also had the spiky quality of a long-steeped and
heavily flavored breakfast tea.
Tentatively, I lowed the rim to my lips and drank.
At once, a million flavors exploded against my taste buds. The
liquid tasted oaky, a bit. It also tasted piney, a bit. And yet it was
sweet, too, like molasses and not sugar.
Eagerly, I took a larger gulp, and this time I recognized even
more flavors. There was the dark, peaty quality of the ale, and the
slick piercing quality of the tea, and–
Suddenly, I found myself swept into a fit of coughing, as the
flavors and the aromas overpowered my nose and tastebuds. I
coughed for a good while. Or, at least it felt like that. By the time I
was done, I had tears standing in my eyes, and I could tell my nose
was running.
“Wex,” I gasped, setting the glass down on the countertop.
“What on the Free Isles was that?”
The massive man grinned at me broadly. He was clearly enjoying
my discomfort, and I was sure that I looked a right state from his
point of view. Wex was a known practical joker, but I never figured
he’d be able to drink something so overpowering just to get a prank
on me.
“Don’t worry, Pryvet,” he said when he was done chuckling. “The
first glass is a bit tough to stomach. But after that, you’ll find the
stuff is amazing, I’m sure. And, as for what it is, I was trying to think
up a name for it already. I was pretty stuck, until you just tried it.
Always helps to have a willing… well I won’t say victim, but you
know.”
I could tell that Wex found whatever name he’d thought up
incredibly funny, because the man was always terrible at holding
back his laughter. Wex’s whole body practically shook as he fought
to contain the awful joke he was bottling up inside. I sighed and
rubbed my nose exaggeratedly. I liked to mess with Wex like this.
“What is it, Wex?” I said. “I can tell from the way your shoulders
are jerking around that you think it’s the best joke ever.”
“Cough-ee!” Wex practically exploded as the laughter overtook
him.
He doubled over in his chair and I watched good humoredly as
he banged the bar top with his massive palms. He made such a
racket that I was pretty sure Mira and Mette would have to get up
pretty soon.
Wex’s exuberant laughter was so great that my glass started
jumping about on the bar top again, and I had to lift it to keep it
from shattering. I took another tentative sip of the stuff as Wex
went about his banging, and I had to admit that it was already
growing on me.
When it looked like he was through the most violent part of his
laughter, I said, “Wex, that is a terrible joke. But, even I have to
admit, it’s not too bad of a name.”
I took a larger sip again and found the mixture of oaky and sharp
flavors that rolled over my tongue to be quite pleasant now.
I wonder if we could persuade him to leave some of this with us?

When I opened the back door to go see Kacie’s progress, Wex

declined to join me.
“Bit more packing to do, Pryvet,” he explained. “Besides, I’ve
seen my Eleanor wield that sword so many times now. It’s still
impressive, mind you. But, the real shock has already worn off.”
I smiled at him as he stood and made for the door upstairs.
“Just remember that I’ve seen her in action with that greatsword,
too, Wex,” I said. “Your first wife nearly took my head off! Hells, she
nearly killed all of us at once!”
Wex smiled. “Aye, lad,” he said. “Eleanor certainly fights for the
kill. She takes no prisoners, that one.”
Then, with a dark look across the room at the flight of stairs that
led to the cellar, Wex walked back up to the rooms above.
I knew his meaning, of course. Only yesterday, we’d captured a
gorgeous and incredibly deadly elf general of some notoriety.
She was currently held within a strange cell that we’d found in
the cellar. The cell wasn’t the only weird thing about the cellar,
either. But, I had more important things on my mind than worrying
about a disarmed prisoner at the moment.
So, I stepped out of the back door to the sounds of a great blade
whistling through the air.
“Morning, Pryvet!” Eleanor said when she caught sight of me.
“Sleep well?”
Wex’s first wife was seated at the edge of a large, slightly raised
stone deck that let out onto a wide grassy section and the single
huge maple tree that sat in the middle. Kacie was busy going
through what looked like some incredibly complicated footwork
maneuvers about halfway between the tree and Eleanor.
 Of the three women who’d helped to pay down my Debt, Kacie
was the one that I slept with first. She was, if I’m honest, the only of
the three that I’d intentionally sought out before even acquiring the
Debt, too.
Kacie was tall, with medium sized but very perky breasts, and
long bushy hair that sat just on the blonde side of brown. I’d already
realized that each of us in the little troupe favored a particular
weapon, long before we found the inn.
Mira was an ace with a bow. She claimed that she’d learned the
skill through poaching, and I was still eager to learn exactly what the
circumstances surrounding that period of her life were.
Mette, meanwhile, clearly favored the healing pendant which had
been suspiciously left for her, before we’d managed to escape Aegid.
That particularity, too, intrigued me. Though it did so in a different
way to the one regarding Mira’s past.
For myself, it was pretty clear that my specialty would be using
my shield to deflect incoming arrows or other projectiles. I hadn’t
had the chance to test it out on spells yet, and I didn’t really know
what had become of that mage who’d helped us, back at Wex’s bar
only a few days ago, but I figured it would probably act similarly.
Only a few days? It feels like a million years already. You were a
nobody back then, Pryvet. Now look at you!
I shook my head and reminded myself that it was probably for
the best I hadn’t had to try my shield out on magic yet. After all, the
odds didn’t favor the encounter.
If I was right, and I could deflect them too, then the upside
stopped at Not Getting Hit by a Fireball. If I was wrong, the
downsides stretched all the way to Definitely Getting Hit by a
Fireball. And Then Maybe Even Killed Because of It.
Anyway, that was all to think about what Kacie’s specialty would
be. The blonde seemed as keen as any of us to fight for our safety,
but there was no denying she lacked expertise to do so.
She was smart and pretty and kind. But smart and pretty and
kind didn’t matter that much when an arrow’s hurtling towards you,
or when you’ve someone dying at your feet who needs help.
 Still, watching Kacie weave through Eleanor’s training motions, I
saw at once that Kacie’s lack of expertise was rapidly being solved.
Kacie was practicing with Eleanor’s sword, and the thing looked
frankly huge compared to her. Eleanor wasn’t a tiny woman, herself,
and even next to her the sword looked too large to wield at all. And
yet, despite the weapon being as tall as Kacie was herself, she
worked through the footwork like it was no more than a dagger.
I watched with fascination as her feet slid smoothly across the
grassy lawn, while the huge sword’s gleaming steel caught the light.
Kacie assumed a forward stance, with the sword held as light as a
feather behind her. Then, without missing a beat, she brought it high
over her head and swung it down with poise and precision.
Kacie’s motion brought the blade down so fast I thought she’d
drive it into the earth, but with another subtle tug of her arm, my
Kacie drew the sword smoothly to the left. She pirouetted with it,
spinning on her forefoot until she regained control and stood facing
me and her temporary trainer.
Kacie’s eyes lit up when they landed on me.
“Oh!” she exclaimed. “Pryv! I didn’t realize you were up! I’m
sorry, were we too loud? I was trying to be as quiet as I could, but
there’s only so much a girl can do…”
A flash of disappointment flew across her face, then evaporated
when I smiled and held up my hands in a conciliatory manner.
“You two were being so quiet, I had to strain my ears to hear
you,” I said. “Honestly, I think the birds out here are louder. Good
job! And I appreciate the thoughtfulness. Though I think I might
have woken Mira when I got up. She’ll probably be down shortly,
anyway.”
Kacie nodded and smiled. Then Eleanor turned to me.
“You sound amazingly chipper, for having just woken up, Pryvet.
I’ll admit, my Wex normally takes an hour before he stops being
grumpy in the mornings.” Eleanor’s eyes slid over me and rested on
the glass I still held in my hands. “He hasn’t forced you to start
drinking already has he, by the way? I swear, sometimes I wish he
chose water magic over liquor magic!”
 “Actually,” I said. “I think he’ll be much more amenable this
morning. This stuff is some new concoction of his. He claims it’s got
the equivalent pick me up to four cups of tea, and practically no
alcohol. Tastes… unusual, but I do feel like it’s working in the tea
department. Has he shown this to you yet?”
Eleanor shook her head, and Kacie strode forward eagerly.
“That sounds really interesting, Pryv!” she said as she handed the
massive blade to Eleanor. “Mind if I try some?”
I handed her the glass, but didn’t think to add that she should
drink it slowly at first. Kacie took such a big gulp that she downed
practically the whole glass in one swig.
At first, it looked like she’d be fine, even with the unusual flavor.
Then, of course, a dire look crossed her face.
She gulped once, and I thought she was going to be sick. I
quickly grabbed the glass from her hand so that she wouldn’t drop it
and scatter glass shards everywhere. Then I wrapped my arm
around her waist, to help her out if she needed to go somewhere
and might fall over.
The first cough issued from her lips more like a gasp than a
cough. But, the second and third were much more standard so far as
coughing went. Kacie nearly doubled over as the coughing fit racked
her body, and I patted her back tenderly as she half convulsed.
Eleanor looked on pityingly.
“He does this sort of thing every once in a while,” Wex’s wife said
tenderly to Kacie. “The man’s palette is, I’m sure you’ll imagine,
quite a wide thing. He doesn’t know when his concoctions are good
or bad, and sometimes I think he just likes to mess with us.”
Kacie kept coughing, so I kept patting her back.
“It’s not so bad after the first few sips,” I said. “Or, at least it
grew on me pretty quickly. But, I was just sipping it. Sorry, Kacie. I
should have given you a better warning than just that it tastes
unusual. You’ll come around to it, in the end.”
Kacie glanced up at me with tears in her eyes from all the
coughing.
“I’ll only come around to it if you sneak it into my glass, Pryvet,”
she groaned. “Otherwise, I’ll never drink that stuff again. Not so
long as I live!”
I rubbed the blonde’s back tenderly and Eleanor glanced at us
with an appreciating look in her eye.
Kacie said, “What does he call this swill, anyway,” and I saw
Eleanor roll her eyes out of the corner of mine.
“Something he thinks is terribly clever, no doubt,” Wex’s first wife
said.
“Actually,” I grinned. “I think it’s pretty funny. He said he’s calling
it cough-ee.”
Eleanor groaned and slapped her palm to her forehead, but
Kacie’s coughs started turning to chuckles.
“Well!” Kacie said. “At least he’s honest about the stuff. I think I’ll
stick to tea for now, though!”
 CHAPTER TWO

Mira and Mette came downstairs shortly after, and I was pleased to
learn that Eleanor and Wex had fried up the last of the goat. Both
women gave long oohs and ahhs as they walked through the door
into the tavern area.
“Been up early, preparing all this then?” Mira asked happily as
she sat at a stool and was passed a plate of goat meat. “It smells
wonderful, still. And after yesterday… Well, I suppose any food
would taste amazing. But that doesn’t mean this doesn’t taste like
heaven itself!”
Wex shook his head at that, and passed a plate to Mette as well.
We were all seated around the bar, and it struck me that this may be
the last time I saw Wex.
A great sadness filled my heart as I contemplated the surety of
his departure. Though I’d not known any individual person for long,
since I fled my burning town as a child, I’d grown closest to Wex
over the course of my attempted courtship with Kacie.
The old bartender was always happy to see me, happy to hear
stories of my travels, and most importantly of all for a young man
like myself, happy to ply me with some truly high proof booze. It felt
odd, to consider that I might be saying good bye to him shortly. And
it felt odd that such a realization felt odd.
After so long alone, it was a confusing sensation that tugged at
my heart. I supposed that I just wasn’t accustomed to having
friends.
 “Hey there, Pryvet!” Wex said. “You’ve got a face longer than
mine, after a disappointing experiment. What’s the matter boy?
Cough-ee turned sour on you again?”
I shook my head and looked at the gigantic man. Wex seemed to
have no qualms anymore about leaving. His face shone like a
lighthouse’s beacon as he stuffed a sliver of goat meat between his
lips. I didn’t want to weigh him down with my emotions.
“Must be it,” I said. “But I wonder whether you might leave some
more for us? Although Kacie’s sworn she won’t touch the stuff again,
I think it still might yet grow on me.”
Wex nodded, and then put his hand to his chin.
“I think I can leave you a keg or two, Pryvet. But I’ll have to
search around for them. It’s utterly bizarre that a bar like this one
doesn’t have a keg in sight. I don’t remember seeing any
downstairs, either?”
I glanced at the door which led to the cellar, and shook my head.
The last time I’d been down there, it had been to lock up the elf
general who’d tried to kill us so often.
Wex had hated the prospect of locking up a living creature,
especially one that could think. And that was in spite of the fact that
the very same elf had burned his old inn to the ground, and set his
entire town to the torch.
I could see in his eyes that Wex didn’t want to go down there,
where he’d be forced to face the elf’s imprisonment, so I diverted
him. “A keg, Wex? We’d never get back to sleep! A few bottles will
be more than adequate, if that’s all right with you.”
Wex agreed, and I hoped that my diversion would have gotten
our captive out of everyone’s minds. But a single glance around the
table was enough to tell me that no such thing had occurred.
Mira and Mette both turned in their chairs to look at the door,
and Kacie had as well.
Contrary to Wex’s softness, I knew Mette had a violent streak in
her. I’d nearly had to force her to heal the elf’s severed leg. Mette
grumbled the whole time about it being bad to show mercy to
people like Acwellan.
 Truly, I knew Mette to be more comfortable with death than even
I was. If I’d given her the chance, I had a pretty good idea of how
quickly she’d kill Acwellan, and leave her body outside for the forest
to consume.
Speaking of which…
“Has anyone seen Sylvi yet?” I asked. “I haven’t seen her since
she went to scatter the elven equipment last night. Has anyone else?
Did you hear her when you got up to come into my bed, Mira?”
The redhead blushed furiously, but shook her head.
“I don’t think so, Pryv,” she said. “But, then again, Sylvi’s so quiet
I could be walking right in front of her and probably not hear her.”
I doubted that very much.
Mira had surprised me in a big way, when we first walked off
together through the forest. The temple maiden moved as quietly as
the breeze, probably quieter honestly. It was amazing, to watch her
hips rotate and her feet slip and slide across the forest grass while
she moved. Plus, the pose did really amazing things for her rear.
Still, I understood what she meant. Sylvi was probably as much
tree as woman, and her movement was as quiet as a whisper in an
empty temple.
The tree woman didn’t even have feet, like the rest of us did.
Instead, her legs widened suddenly where her feet would otherwise
be. From this extended portion, which I’d started to think of as her
trunks, hundreds of little roots extended that could slip her along the
forest floor as silent as death.
Wex said, “Well, we’ll wait a little longer for her to return. I’ve
grown quite fond of that tree, much moreso than of Lanc out back,
and it would be nice to get a solid farewell in.”
Eleanor nodded beside him, and then silence descended on the
table.

We didn’t need to wait long for Sylvi to return.

 Just as I turned my attention to the disrepair in which we’d left
the inn, after yesterday’s battle, I heard the tree call out to us from
the path out front.
“Hello, friends and family!”
I was busy examining the rusted end of a sword which stuck out
from the wall, and I was extremely happy to be distracted from
considering how to remove it. The rusted weapons which we’d found
in the cellar were doubtlessly useful in protecting the inn. But they’d
be very tricky to remove with anyone cutting themselves.
Now that we were reasonably assured the elves wouldn’t be able
to find us again, I figured we could probably get rid of them. The
holes would make the room more difficult to heat, not to mention
the bugs and small creatures that could sneak through them.
So, I walked quickly to the door and opened it. Sylvi stood some
twenty feet from the doorway, in the road. She looked hearty and
hale, but I could see from the way her breaths came in heavy
clumps that she must have been very tired.
Makes sense to be tired, after that long carting body after body
far away. Not to mention all the swords, bows, and the like that
she’d had to hide as well.
Acwellan had given us one piece of information about the elves,
thus far. Every elf could track the goods made by any other elf. That
was how they’d found us, in our mysterious inn. Doubtless, that had
something to do with how they’d found Aegid as well. We’d been
using elven weapons, up until yesterday. Now that we knew about
their abilities, I’d instructed Sylvi to go hide every piece of elven
equipment we had far off in the wide forest.
“Morning Sylvi!” I said. “You look like you’ve been working hard!”
The tree woman smiled a big, broad smile at me. Her breathing
kept on being hard, but she stretched her long, lithe arms up over
her graceful head and her smile turned to a beam.
“It was heavy,” she admitted. “But it was good work, and I’ve
now had so much food I think I might even get a little tubby!”
Looking at Sylvi, I very much doubted that. She was just as slim
and green as ever, without the slightest bulge to her stomach. At
first I figured she must have worked off the extra food, then I
remembered exactly how it was that she ate.
Normal trees drink from their roots and use the sunlight to help
make their food. The two speaking trees that I’d met in the forest
did things entirely differently.
We’d had to use the mouth of a large, old tree named Grucche,
for safety on the night was escaped to the forest. He turned out to
be a kind, happy old thing, much to my happiness. But, he also ate
meat it seemed.
On a request from him, I’d deposited a dead elf that Mira shot
into his gaping mouth, and watched him chomp away happily at it.
But, Grucche had had way more in common with a normal forest
tree than Sylvi did. He was old and wide, and his roots sank deep
into the ground. Truth be told, he really looked like a tree that had a
face.
Sylvi, on the other hand, looked like a woman whose skin was
bark and whose clothes were leaves. That didn’t mean she ate any
more normally than Grucche, though.
My little tree companion drank blood through the roots in her
feet. And, after carting away so many bodies, I figured she probably
got to eat more last night than she had in ages. Of course, there
was something else about the way that Sylvi consumed nutrition. At
least so far as I could tell, drinking the blood caused her to get
drunk.
It caused her to get seriously drunk.
I raised my eyebrows at her and said, “I doubt you could ever
get tubby, Sylvi. How are you feeling otherwise, though? Last time
you had a big meal, I remember you getting…”
I let my sentence hang there, hoping that she would pick up on
my meaning.
Fortunately, the tree smiled a broad, sober smile.
“I did stumble a few times, coming back,” she said. “But, all in
all, I think I’m sobered up now. But, did I make it back in time to say
good bye to Eleanor? I liked her from the first moment I met her!”
The first moment that we’d met Eleanor, Wex’s wife had tried to
split us in half with her greatsword. I figured Sylvi would be singing
a different tune, if Eleanor had favored an axe over a sword. It
seemed reasonable that trees wouldn’t feel comfortable around
axes.
“Yeah,” I said. “They’re both inside. They wanted to wait for you,
too.”
“Excellent!” Sylvi said. “I hoped that I would make it back in
time.”
On a whim, I asked, “Before you head in, Sylvi, could I ask you a
question?”
The tree woman nodded.
“You said that you liked her from the first moment you met her,” I
said. “But, the first moment we met her, she was trying to kill us. Or
at least harm us seriously. Why did you like her then?”
Sylvi’s blushes, I remembered, were unlike a normal woman’s
blushes. Sylvi’s skin turned a deep green when she blushed. It did
that now.
“Well,” she said with a look of concentration on her face, “I guess
it wasn’t exactly the first moment. But, right after that, I suppose. It
was when I realized that she was your friend, Pryvet.”
I smiled at that.
“But, you hardly knew me, at the time. Why would you trust my
judgement in friends?”
The tree chuckled briefly, then strode up the walkway to the inn.
Her arm brushed mine as she passed me to go inside.
“How could you have Mira, Mette, and Kacie following you so
casually, if you weren’t a good judge of character?”

Less than fifteen minutes later, at the longest, we all stood out front
again. Wex wore a traveling cloak that had clearly been procured
from somewhere in the inn, because it looked two or three sizes too
small on him. Eleanor had on a pair of well worn boots and properly
fitted cloak herself.
 That’s right. Wex’s wives were the travelers of their family. Makes
sense that she’d already have the clothes for it. With his bar, I bet
Wex never went farther afield than the next town. Not that he’d
need to. Nor that I ever asked him.
Wex smiled and laid a huge hand on my shoulder. Our eyes met
for the briefest of moments, and I saw sadness in his as well as
some small fear.
It was strange, recognizing that Wex had any emotions beyond
jubilation or cold calculation, and I hoped that my own emotions
weren’t betrayed by my eyes too. Then, Wex winked cheekily at me
and looked behind me to where the rest of the women stood on the
stairs.
“Watch out for them,” Wex said. “They’ll need you as much as
you’ll need them. It’s the sign of a good family, that you can rely on
each other.”
I nodded, then heard Eleanor make a scoffing sound.
“Hardly,” she said. “Although I should ask you to stick close to
Kacie, Pryvet. She’ll be a right warrioress soon.”
I cocked my head at what she could mean, then felt my jaw
drop.
Eleanor was holding her greatsword in her outstretched arms,
and proffering it to Kacie.
The sword lay in its scabbard, a huge leather sheath that was so
well worn, creases of use stood out on it like pale rivers, coursing up
and down the flat flank. It was still a wonder to me that anyone
weaker than Wex could handle the thing, it was so huge. Yet,
Eleanor held it as gently as she might a child.
When Kacie took it from her, the blonde’s shoulders barely
sagged under the intense weight.
“Are you sure, Eleanor?” Kacie asked. “You and Wex will be going
far and wide. Won’t you need it?”
Eleanor smiled at her and turned back around. She walked to
stand by him, as though putting herself out of reach of the sword
made her decision more final, for both herself and for Kacie. I did
notice that the blonde looked like she wanted to return the sword to
her, and the distance made it clear that Eleanor didn’t want it back.
 “I’ll find another somewhere along the way,” Eleanor said with a
distant smile. “Wex here can always make a good trade with some
lush at a bar, after all. Drunks are often easy to pry from their
weapons!”
Wex looked incredulously at his wife, and she punched him lightly
on the shoulder like she was just joking. But her face remained
deathly serious.
“Well,” Kacie said, “If you’re sure…”
Eleanor nodded and Wex wrapped a huge arm around her
shoulders. The pair looked into each other’s eyes for a moment, and
I saw a look that I hadn’t seen Wex wear before on his face. The
man looked determined, determined to press on and do what must
be done no matter the dangers or trials. His wife looked the same.
In a moment, their look passed and both turned back towards
us. Wex extended a hand, and I shook it. His face was set and his
mouth made a thin line.
“Until next time, Pryvet,” he grunted.
“Until next time, Wex,” I replied.
Then, the pair turned on their heels and headed down the road
to the right. For a minute, I watched them go.
“And be careful around that elf!” Wex turned to call when they
were some distance down the road.
Then, the trees swallowed them, and we were alone again.
Well, alone except for each other. And that elf.
Probably time to question her again.
 CHAPTER THREE

During the battle yesterday, Acwellan had been the last elf that we
faced. The elf general wielded a huge bow, and the arrow that she
fired was about half as wide as my arm. When I used my magic to
deflect it back at her, it had shorn her leg off at the knee and sent
the general tumbling to the floor in a torrent of blood.
In exchange for healing her leg with Mette’s magic, I’d learned
that every item an elf makes can be felt by every other elf. It was a
good trade for information, and the elf woman hadn’t given it up
entirely willingly. But she’d wanted her leg back more.
Unfortunately for everyone, this meant that all the pieces of
elven equipment we’d scoured in our travels had to be hidden away
deep in the forest by Sylvi. This included all of Acwellan’s clothing,
which on further examination was probably a good move to break
her spirit anyway.
“Hello, Well,” I said when I stepped up to the bars of her cell.
“How’s the leg feel?”
The elf was seated against the cell’s back right corner. Though
the hot spring in the other room kept the cellar warm and moist,
Acwellan huddled her knees to her chest. She was practically hidden
in the darkness. The magical blue lights which sconces on the walls
held were not strong enough to pierce her out of the gloom.
“You’re a strange tormentor,” Well said. “Giving me that curious
nickname, and healing my leg.”
 I shrugged. It didn’t really matter to me one way or the other
what Acwellan thought of my methods. I just couldn’t trust her out
of her cell. It seemed that breaking her spirit would be difficult, if I
couldn’t convince her that I held no great love for The Mother.
“I don’t want you as an enemy,” I said. “Especially not with how
dangerous you’ve proven to be. And you earned your leg, by the
way. We’d never have been free of assault, if you didn’t tell us how
the elves were tracking us. Plus, I like the name Well better than
Acwellan. It’s prettier, for one thing. For another, I’m sure you’ll be a
well of information, once you start talking.”
The elf scoffed. I watched her rise slowly from her seated
position and walk towards the cell’s bars with the blue light playing
on her pale skin.
She was gorgeous, really. And gorgeous in a strange, ethereal
way that neither Mette, Mira, Kacie, nor even Sylvi matched.
Well was as light on her feet as Mira was, when the redhead was
intent on stealth. Yet, unlike the way that Mira crouched and moved
her legs in long supple strides to maintain her stealth, Well seemed
to keep her perfect posture the whole time.
She was tall, for a woman. Though she was still much shorter
than Sylvi. I figured Well probably stood a little under six feet, and
most of that was in her legs. She had long, slender thighs that left a
little gap between them when she stood before me with her arms
folded beneath her breasts. I felt my eyes travel all the way up those
long, creamy legs as I drank her in.
But, of course, her chest arrested my gaze when it landed on it.
Well’s breasts were large and surprisingly perky. I figured they were
somewhere between Kacie’s and Mette’s, though they stood out
even rounder and firmer than Kacie’s did. They had none of the sag
that age had imparted to Mette’s, and her nipples were puffy and
pink. Each practically screamed for me to take it into my mouth and
suck on it.
“Ahem!”
My eyes jerked up to Well’s face when she coughed, and I saw
her brilliantly blue eyes watching me with intent.
“I would think you had better manners than that,” the elf said.
 I shrugged. Normally, I would have had better manners. But,
what could I do with such perfect orbs on display for me. From the
way I saw her cheeks pinken in the lanterns’ harsh blue light, I
figured she enjoyed the attention more than she let on, too.
Though the elf’s face was just as pretty as the rest of her, with a
jawline strong enough to chisel stone, there was one mark on it that
held my eye.
I’d had several run ins with Well, since discovering my Debt. The
first had been in Wex’s bar, back in his hometown of Clanesse.
There, she’d nearly killed an old mage, not to mention what she’d
have done to me, Kacie, and Wex if she’d have had her way.
The second time we’d encountered her left her scarred. She had
tracked Kacie, Mira, and I to Mette’s temple. The temple was way
out in the middle of nowhere, and I figured the only way they’d
been able to find us was simply that the temple was the only
structure of importance for miles in any direction.
She’d nearly killed us all, there. But, as my first serious act of
deflection with my shield, I repelled Well’s flaming arrow back at her.
The burning oil that she’d intended to maim us with instead maimed
her.
Well’s right eye was burned out and a wide swath of burned skin
coursed from her ear to just past her pretty blonde hairline.
Deciding to leave off her comment about my manners, I said,
“Would you like your eye back, as well as your leg, Well? Surely an
archer is better when she can gauge distance, right?”
In truth, I had no idea whether Mette could replace her eye at
all. The two times that my priestess had healed such serious
damage, all the original material was to hand.
Mette had healed a valkyrie named Lyst’s arm, and then
Acwellan’s leg. But, in both instances the women’s limbs remained
close by their bodies.
Acwellan snickered, the corner of her lips turning upwards in
mockery. “You think I would divulge the information you desire,” she
said icily, “for a single eye? You’d have to take my left, too, if you
wanted that, Pryvet. I am not so easily persuaded to help my
enemy. And any follower of The Mother is my enemy.”
 I sighed and leaned back against the wall opposite Acwellan’s
cell.
“Well,” I said, “I don’t know how I can convince you that I don’t
care about The Mother. She’s a means to an end, for me. And she’ll
probably kill me, if I don’t satisfy this frankly ridiculous Debt anyway.
It’s clear she doesn’t like me, and I clearly don’t like her. Hell, the
valkyries tried to imprison us in Aegid only a few days ago! Why
would I align myself with a goddess who plays games like that?”
To my surprise, I watched Well chew her lip in thought, after this
declaration. I figured that she would’ve known how down and dirty
the Mother liked to get, considering the elves appeared dead set on
hounding Her and all Her followers.
At length, Acwellan said, “I believe you, Pryvet. Perhaps it is
wrong of me to do so. But, I cannot say the same for those two
women of yours. Breaking the obedience of the devoted is a long
process, even if yours is broken.”
I nodded at that and said, “I’ll let you think it over, Well. I’d very
much like your help in figuring out where elven troops are, so I don’t
find myself in a tricky spot. I’ve still got a lot of sirings to do, if I’m
to escape this Debt. And that’ll be all the more difficult if your
friends are swarming the isles.”
Acwellan nodded too.
She said, “Then persuade your women to give up their goddess.
I’m here to kill Her. And I won’t let anything distract from that
desire.”
I turned to the stairs and said, “There’s a little food left over from
breakfast. I’ll have Sylvi bring it down to you, along with some water.
Think about how much you’re willing to sacrifice, though. We’re not
enemies, I don’t think.”
The elf gave a short cough of acknowledgement, and I went
back upstairs.
“Of course I can bring her some food,” Sylvi said with a smile. “But,
won’t you four get hungry yourselves? I believe this is the last of
what we have for now.”
I nodded to the tree woman, and saw Mette scowl behind her
back.
That the priestess hated helping the elf wasn’t a mystery to me.
I’m sure that if I hadn’t demanded she heal Well’s leg, Mette would
have left her to bleed out on the inn’s floor. Probably, her reaction
was down to Acwellan forcing her to flee from her longtime temple
and home. It made sense to me that Mette would wish ill towards
her, but that didn’t mean I had to abide it.
I’d need all the help I could get, to finish off this Debt. And Well’s
ability to track all her companions through their elven made clothing
and weapons was probably going to be invaluable.
“I’ve got a plan for the food,” I said to Sylvi. “Which I’ll ask you
to help me with later. But, for now, it’s important that Well not think
we’re enemies. Travel will be much easier, if we can have her sniff
out where elven patrols or battalions are.”
The tree smiled at me, then went to gather up the last bits of
goat that remained from our prior meals and disappeared down the
stairs to the cellar.
I heard Mette scoff from the bar, and decided to ignore her for
now. There was enough work left to do as it was, without worrying
about the priestess’s particular wishes regarding out captive.
I wanted a safe base of operations, for whatever we’d attempt
next, and this inn made the perfect spot. It was connected to the
Free Isles by some strange magic that I couldn’t quite wrap my head
around, yet it was also wonderfully hidden from view and map. Sylvi
and her father tree, Grucche, had assured me that it couldn’t be
found unless one either understood the ancient language of the
forest or else apparently could smell out elven material from a great
distance. Now that the elves couldn’t track us through our
equipment anymore, this meant that we were probably safer here
than in any town on the Free Isles.
And, if we were going to stay here for a while, I wanted it in
better shape.
 All around, sword and dagger hilts jutted out from the walls.
Tables lay in cluttered messes by the stairs and front door, too. And
that wasn’t to mention the profusion of glass shards that lay
scattered about the front walkway, left from Wex and Eleanor
attempting to slow down our invaders by hurling bottles at them.
I went over to inspect the hilt of a shortsword beneath a front
window. The grip was made of a now ratty looking leather, worn
down and consumed by age and the damp heat of the cellar. The
pommel, though, was what looked like iron and it was beyond
rusted.
“Mira?” I said to the redhead across the room. “Mette? How did
you two get these swords stuck so deep into the walls, without
cutting yourselves on the rust? It looks like one slip and I’d get an
infection from it.”
Both women looked up and walked over to me. Mira squatted
down by the hilt, and put a finger to her chin in thought. Mette,
though, put her hands on her hips and turned her chin up at me. I
figured she was still upset over my relatively pleasant treatment of
Well, and I also figured that this demeanor wouldn’t help endear the
elf to us.
As I opened my mouth to admonish the priestess, Mira spoke up.
She said, “Mostly, it was carefully. You’re right, Pryv. This thing
looks incredibly dangerous to pull out with the condition it’s in. I
don’t know if Mette’s pendant could heal us, if we got cut? I mean,
it’s able to reattach whole limbs. So the odds are good that it can,
but still.”
I nodded to the redhead.
“Yeah. Better not to risk it though. Can you go see if you can find
some rags behind the bar. Or anything else that’ll be thick and
protective, really. If one of us gets cut anyway, we can try to use
Mette’s magic. But, I don’t want to extend her if we don’t have to.
We’re going to be short on food until tomorrow at least, and I don’t
want her to get weak like last time.”
Mira nodded and grinned.
“Sure!” she said, before walking over to the counter and fishing
around behind it.
 While the inn was filled with the clinkings and bangings of the
maiden’s search, I asked Mette, “How are you feeling, by the way? I
know you don’t like that we’re keeping Well alive. But, if we’re going
to travel anywhere safely, we’ll need her. I can’t tell where elves are
going to be stationed. But she can. And, although you might still
trust the Mother more than you let on, we’re both at least on edge
about Her.”
Mette frowned, but nodded in the end. Then she sighed, as
though she was holding in a lot pent up emotion that really needed
to be let out.
“You’re right,” she said. “But I just can’t forgive what she did to
my temple, nor all the times that she’s already tried to kill us. I know
I shouldn’t hold grudges like that all the time. Still, how can you be
sure that she won’t lie to us?”
I smiled at the priestess and said, “It’s not as though I plan to let
her out of that cell already. But, I’m trying to make her see that our
goals are at least aligned. They might not be the same. So long as
she sees betraying us as hurting herself, I figure she’s less likely to
try anything.”
Mette nodded at that, and Mira cried out from behind the bar,
“Found them!”
She hustled over to me quickly, and held out four rags. Each of
them looked more than large enough to wrap twice around a sword
hilt, which would give us decent protection in addition to a good
grip.
“Will these work?” Mira asked.
I took one of the rags from her and wrapped it around the hilt.
Then I snugged the cloth up tight, so it wouldn’t slip, and pulled on
the handle. To my surprise, the blade only caught once as I drew it
out from the wall.
 CHAPTER FOUR

We were busy removing swords, daggers, and axe heads from the
inn’s walls for a while. The women had done a remarkably good job
securing them, and I was disappointed to find every subsequent hilt
I tugged on stiffer than the last.
Kacie was shimmering with sweat before we’d gotten halfway,
and Mira and Mette were breathing so heavily that I suggested we
all take a break. Sylvi had been busy pulling the tables back into
place because she was so uncertain around blades, and we fairly
collapsed into the benches that she’d set up.
“If I’d have known we’d just take them out again, I wouldn’t
have driven them in half so far!” Mira said as she flopped her chest
down onto the table. “I never figured pulling them out would be
tougher than driving them in!”
Mette hummed her agreement, and Sylvi quirked an eyebrow.
“I’m a bit surprised a wanderer like yourself wants to stay, Pryv,”
the blonde said. “I always figured you for a man who likes to be on
the move.”
I glanced at Kacie and she blushed. Then I sighed and put my
elbows on the table.
If I was alone, I’d probably not try staying here, true. But, there
was no denying that this place would make it easier to meet
everyone’s needs. And, with five of us in the band and another
locked up downstairs, that meant it would get more and more
difficult to keep everyone happy on the road.
 Thinking on our prisoner, I recalled that traveling with her would
be nearly impossible. We could bind her hands, sure. But because
we lacked transport, Well would have to use her own legs. And that
would mean that she could slip off into the woods at any moment,
and we’d be hard pressed to find her.
I said to Kacie, “Normally, you’d be right Kacie. But, we’ve got to
remember that our little band is growing faster than I’d anticipated.
Not to mention we’ve got a prisoner downstairs and no way of
transporting her. Moving Acwellan would get difficult, fast. Especially
around here, where she’d only need to get a couple yards away from
us, and we’d lose her forever.”
Kacie nodded to that, but Sylvi perked up.
“I could track her through the woods,” the tree said. “I can tell
where trees and plant life have been snapped and brushed against.
At least I can for a little while. That’s how I’ve been finding my way
back here, in between dumping bodies.”
I raised my eyebrows at the tree. It’s true that she’d been able to
find her way back every time I sent her out, but I always figured
that was something to do with an affinity with the forest. Or,
something like that. This little piece of information was probably
going to be very useful to me, and I socketed it away for later.
Sylvi glanced at me and blushed, as though she was
embarrassed to reveal this skill. That confused me. I once met an
expert tracker, on the mainland, who trained for years just to get
half of what Sylvi mentioned.
But then there was a lot about the tree that I still didn’t
understand. Like why Grucche had said she was shunned by her
own kind, or why she took to our little group so quickly.
Thinking on that for a moment, I realized that the two probably
followed each other quite nicely. Even if I didn’t understand why she
was an outcast among her fellow trees, it would surely have made
her lonely. Then, when she’s introduced to us, she would have felt
welcomed for the first time in who knows how long. I nodded my
head, committing to memory that realization.
Then I said, “Thanks, Sylvi. But I still would feel more
comfortable staying where we are for a little while at least. If you
and Grucche are correct, this place will be difficult to find for anyone
who wants to hurt us. It’s a safer place to plan our next move than
anywhere else… Although, I would like to use that skill of yours later
today, if you’d be willing.”
The tree blushed even brighter than before, and nodded her
head sharply.
“Of course, Pryvet,” she said. “Any way that I can help, I would
love to.”
I beamed at her and smiled wide. I wanted to make sure she
knew how pleased I was to hear it.
“One other thing, too,” I added. “I know you said that this place
is randomly discovered. You made it seem difficult to do, and as
though it happened extremely rarely?”
The tree nodded.
“Well,” I said. “It’s not as though I don’t believe you. But, seeing
as how Wex was able to find it in under a day, and we found it in an
afternoon, I’d like to take some precautions to keep it safe.”
Sylvi cocked her head at me.
“What did you have in mind?” she asked.
“I’d like you to grow a thicket of vines on either side of the road,
some distance from the front door,” I said. “If we make it look
difficult to pass, I bet fewer people will keep pushing on through it.
Maybe we can set it up at the nearest crossroads on either end?
That way, it’ll seem a lot easier for anyone to just go the other way
instead of having to chop through a tangled mess, right?”
Sylvi nodded, and Kacie said, “Oh, that’s brilliant, Pryv! It’s so
much better to be safe than it is to be sorry, too!”
“Along the way,” I continued, “I’d like to use your skill to find
some small game trails. We’re out of meat, and had to ditch all our
weapons. That means we need to eat, but hunting’s out. I can cook
an animal without knives, but can’t really catch one. I’d like to set up
a series of snares that we can check in the morning for food.”
Kacie’s jaw practically dropped at that. I had to remind myself
that she was a pretty girl from a prosperous town. She probably
never had to survive on her own, and would have been provided for
all her life. Then I had to remind myself that she was the only one of
us who still had a weapon she could wield. And that her weapon was
a greatsword as long as she was tall.
It was a stark and surprising contrast. But I was happy to see the
blonde striving to make herself useful.
“Wow!” Kacie said happily. “I wouldn’t have ever figured that out,
Pryv! Can you show me how to make a snare when you get back?”
I cocked my head at her.
“You can just come,” I said. “There’s no one who will stop you.”
Kacie blushed and glanced at Mette and Mira.
“I would,” she began, “but it would be rude for me to leave Mira
and Mette to clean this place up on their own. Besides, it’s important
to give everyone some alone time, now and again.”
From the way she was blushing, it seemed clear that Kacie was
up to something. And her statement didn’t really make a lot of
sense. After all, I wouldn’t be alone. I’d be with Sylvi.
When I opened my mouth to respond, though, Mira kicked my
shin sharply under the table.
“You two go and set everything up,” the redhead said. “We’ll
keep working here, and get the place in tiptop shape for your
return.”
Well, I had no response to that.

I was pretty handy, as far as using plants to my own ends were

concerned. I could have used tall grasses and thin strips of sapling
bark to make a snare. But, that would have taken a lot longer than I
wanted to spend at it.
So, I went upstairs and began searching for twine or some other
variety of string.
Hey, if this place had clean clothes all ready for us, maybe it’ll
have other things too!
I checked my own room first. The door creaked open and gave
me an immediate view of the bed that I’d shared with Mette and
Mira last night. As I glanced at the state of the covers, I recalled that
I’d snuck out of it earlier than either woman.
“Bunch of animals, those two,” I said under my breath. “Look at
the state of this thing.”
The women had left my covers in almost complete disarray. They
were all clumped up together in a ball on the floor, and my sheet
was somehow spread out like a tarp across the floor at the foot of
the bed. I shook my head to look at it.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that one of them had
intentionally laid the sheet out across the floor.
Gotta remember to lay some ground rules for sharing my bed.
You make a mess of it, you clean it up. I’ve got no interest in picking
up after them like they’re little girls.
I sighed, and figured I’d just dump the comforter and sheet back
on the bed. Then, one of them could come up and make it later on.
After I’d done that, I looked around the room.
“Now, if I were some miscellaneous string or twine,” I said under
my breath, “where would I be hidden?”
The dresser against the hallway wall was a good bet. In fact, it
seemed like it was about the only bet. Aside from a low chest, that I
would check afterwards, it was the only thing that could hide
anything at all.
It’s a weird kind of inn that wouldn’t have a closet for guests.
Of course, it’s a weird kind of inn anyway. No use grumbling
about that.
I pulled open the top drawer and reached down inside of it.
It was filled up with linen shirts and trousers. Some pairs of
socks hunkered in the back right corner, but I found no string. Still, I
remained staring at the clothes for a little while longer.
After repairing Well’s leg, I took her through a tally of every item
that might be elf made. Aside from the weapons that we’d
repurposed from our foes, Well claimed that two shortswords were
of elven make, in addition to a spear and further dagger. Everything
else, she’d claimed wasn’t of elven hands.
Looking down at the shirts, I reminded myself that they looked
way too human to have been made by elves. But I was still cautious.
The fact that Well had identified additional elven goods could have
been a ploy to get us to trust her. Not that that made Mette trust her
anyway, but still. There was always the possibility that our captive
was lying to us. I knew if another band of elves attacked, we’d
probably not survive.
The general could be planning to escape that way.
Sighing, I pushed the drawer closed. Then, I checked the rest of
the dresser.
The other drawers were mostly empty, save for a few moldering
scraps of paper that lay in the bottom one. I lifted the scraps, to see
if they had any writing on them. After all, it seemed clear that
language played an important role in these woods, and I was keen
to collect as much of the writing as possible. I could always give it to
Lanc to help us translate, after all.
If it weren’t for the sheet that someone left for me, back in
Aegid, we probably wouldn’t have found this inn at all.
But, to my disappointment, each of the scraps was either blank
or so smudged that it remained illegible.
Though, to my surprise, I found an old iron key beneath the last
scrap that I checked.
Pocketing the key, I pushed the bottom drawer shut in
consternation, and turned my attention to the chest which lay
beneath the windowsill.
The chest looked old, but well cared for. Being upstairs, and near
a window, I imagined that it would have gotten wet from rain. But it
appeared dry and in good shape. Further, it appeared to be attached
to the floor from behind with a long tong of metal and screws.
It was made of smooth polished wooden boards and held
together by roughly manufactured metal straps that were bolted into
the wood at places. The metal seemed free of rust, which made me
question my original assumption about the damp even more.
I wonder… is the window better sealed than I thought? Or does
the forest get less rain than I thought? With how healthy all these
trees and plants are, I’d have figured it rained here pretty frequently.
If I wasn’t careful, I’d run out of space in my head to keep all
these questions. So, I shook my head and bent to examine the
chest’s lock. It would be a huge pain, if I couldn’t open it. But,
fortunately, the keyhole looked to be about the same size as the key.
I took it out of my pocket, and pushed it into the hole. The key
went in smoothly, and only provided a little annoyance when I
turned it.
Old keys like this, and especially the old locks that they went to,
were often so roughly made that they’d need fiddling with, to work.
This one proved that perfectly. But, after a little bit of jiggling, I got
the teeth to match up with the grooves, and managed to open the
chest.
Inside, I found all manner of old scraps of cloth and detritus. It
looked like whichever person had used this room before me had kept
secrets with them. That would be the only explanation as to why
they kept the chest so full, when the dresser was nearly empty.
Eagerly, I began pulling out old shirts and robes, belts and socks,
until finally I found a few pieces of paper with strange drawings on
them. These, I handled gently because I was worried what age
might have done to them. I didn’t want any falling apart in my
hands.
When I set them on the floor beside the chest, though, I noticed
that the drawings didn’t look like the writings on my first sheet.
The symbols on my sheet were pretty clearly writing. They were
small and ran in lines, not to mention that Lanc had been able to
translate them. But the symbols on these papers seemed to be
something much closer to drawings. They were large, with some
taking up roughly half the whole paper.
The first paper had a crude drawing of a star on it, which was set
over what might have been a hearth. It was a little difficult for me to
be sure, but that seemed a good guess.
The second held a drawing of what appeared to be a tree with a
winding path leading up to it. Though both tree and path were even
more crudely drawn than the star and hearth on the first. I sat an
examined these for a few moments before I decided that my first
thought hadn’t been correct.
At first glance, both appeared to have been drawn by a child.
But, a second look showed none of the gently sloping lines that a
beginner might employ. Every line on the papers was harsh and
sharp, and looked more like the lines of a rune than a leaden
drawing.
I frowned at this realization, and realized that the papers
themselves were of a much rougher quality than the sheet which I
had found in Aegid. My sheet was smooth and crinkled when it
folded, but these were rough and harsh. The fibers were so large
that I could almost feel them as wood chips under my fingertips, and
the papers were stiffer too. I almost thought that they’d snap in half
if I tried to fold them, instead of creasing like well made stationery
should.
Turning the papers around, I could see nothing else about them
that caught my eye. The backs of both were blank. But, without the
drawings to distract me, I could see the pulp which the paper was
made of more easily. I was right, that the papers were rougher than
my sheet, and on the back I could see the individual pieces of pulp
more easily. It looked like the papers had been made by hand,
instead of using a mill. I cocked my head at that, and then set both
on the floor next to me. I’d look at them closer later on.
Perhaps it would be wise to give these to Lanc as well? The old
tree helped more than I expected with my writing. Maybe she’ll
know something about these, too?
The rest of the objects within the chest were mostly useless to
me. It seemed that whoever had used this room before us had kept
all their belongings in it, and I found two more shirts, a pair of
boots, a worn looking belt, socks, and pants. Disappointingly, the
boots were secured with buckles instead of string or laces. I set all
of these on my other side, so that I wouldn’t lose the papers in the
jumble.
No string or even laces yet. Thought we might get lucky with the
boots. Maybe I can get Sylvi to moderate how thick her vines grow,
and use one of those? All the other times I watched her grow them,
they seemed way too thick for a snare, though.
I was about to get up and go back downstairs, when I saw a
little clump sitting in the shadowed back corner of the chest.
Reaching in, I smiled when I felt my fingers curl around a bundle of
twine that would work perfectly.
 CHAPTER FIVE

Though I was hesitant at first, Sylvi assured me that we’d be able to

find our way back along the road.
“Troubles only turn up when you take a turn somewhere,” she
explained as we stepped out of the inn. “The forest can reorganize
itself as soon as you step out onto another path. But, we’re not
turning at all. So long as we stay on our side of the next fork, it
won’t have a chance to startle us by changing.”
I was frankly inclined to disagree with the tree. Everything that
we’d been told about the forest, as well as our own experiences
inside of it, told me to be way more cautious. But, then again, Sylvi
had already gone far away into the trees to deposit the dead elves
and their equipment. If anyone would be sure to find her way back,
it was our slender tree.
I sighed, and looked down the road to the right. The towering
forest trees bent their branches long over the road, and their
shadows made the path disappear in gloom. Then, I looked down
the left side and saw exactly the same. Nothing but worn, mossy
cobblestones, arching branches, and shadows. A few more bushes
on the left than the right, but I wasn’t really counting.
“Which way would you like to go first?” Sylvie said. “It seems
roughly equal to me.”
I frowned and pondered her question.
“Whichever way is the closest to the next fork, I guess,” I said.
“That way, at least we’re obscured from one side. Any idea which
way that would be?”
Sylvi looked down the road to the right and then the left,
chewing her lip in thought.
“If memory serves,” I said, “we came from the left hand side. I
think it was an hour or two, between when we took our last turn and
when we encountered Eleanor? That was pretty close by here, so
maybe we should take that side first? At the very least, we can be
sure to get there and back before dark, right?”
Sylvi nodded and smiled at me.
“That makes sense to me,” she said with a grin. “Should we set
the snares on the way there, or on our way back do you think?”
I pondered that for a moment.
If we set them up on the way out, we’d leave more time for our
scents to dissipate before night comes. If we set them up on the
way back, we could be close enough to dusk that the animals would
avoid the trails. Then, we’d have to just hope that they get snared in
their dawn routines.
Of course, you don’t know exactly how long it’ll take to find a
suitable game trail, Pryvet. If you take too long setting them up on
the outward journey, you might run out of time to make it to the
fork.
I looked up into the high, green leaves above us and searched
for the sun’s location. All the day’s activities had allowed the orb to
work its way past noon, though the thick pressed canopy obscured
its exact location. I figured we had more than a few hours of
daylight left, but couldn’t be sure of exactly how many that was.
Finally, I said, “Let’s do it on the way out, Sylvi. I want to give
the animals ample opportunity to discover our trap before we check
it in the morning. The later we set them up, the more of our scent
will linger, and the likelier we are to keep them away during their
evening travels. Plus, it looks like you can grow vines fast than
blinking. I think the snares will take a lot longer than obscuring the
road. Does that sound right?”
Sylvi beamed at me.
“Oh!” she said. “That’s pretty smart, Pryvet. Yes. My vines
shouldn’t take more than a few minutes, to establish themselves. Do
we need anything else before we go?”
I didn’t think so, but I held my hand up to signify I was
considering it.
Already cut the twine to length, thanks to Kacie’s greatsword.
Left the papers with the weird drawings up in Lanc’s branches. We
can collect some nuts and berries along the way, then use those to
bait the snares. Still have my shield, as always. I think that’s
everything we’ll need.
I nodded to Sylvi, then looked down the road and said, “I think
we should have everything we need, Sylvi. Want to lead the way?
Then, you can stop us at whatever place looks good to set some
snares up. Keep an eye on the trees and bush limbs. I figure
anywhere that looks like it’s heavily disturbed would be a good spot
to try out.”
When I turned back to the tree, I was surprised to see her
lowering her hand. It looked like she’d been gesturing for me to lead
the way, instead of herself. She was probably cut short when I spoke
and was trying to cover it up.
“Sure,” she said as a furious deep green stole over her features,
confirming that she wanted me to lead.
Then, she set off at a stiff pace.
I wonder what’s got her so embarrassed about leading? I’d be
happy to lead myself, but it makes no sense to. Not when she’s
responsible for picking out a place to lay our traps, right?
A little confused, I set off after the tree.
Well, at least I’ve got a good view for the journey there.

Fifteen minutes later, Sylvi paused. She stopped beside what looked
like a small opening through the plant life.
It looked like something big had made the opening, or at least
something bigger than my snares could hope to contain. A series of
three bushes showed the creature’s passage. The two on either side
had their leaves disturbed and some of their arms were snapped.
The one between them was trampled flat, and its body lay in strewn
tatters throughout the forest floor beyond.
“Sylvi?” I said as I approached the damage. “I think that
whatever made this will probably scare off any small game.
Something this big would have no trouble breaking out of a twine
snare. Can you search out something with smaller damage?”
I glanced back to the tree, and was surprised to see her blushing
again. The green which stole up her cheeks made me embarrassed
about speaking so frankly to her. She was, after all, just trying to
help. She might have thought I was telling her off.
As I opened my mouth to apologize, Sylvi blurted out, “Oh! I
didn’t stop for an animal, Pryvet! Just, looking at the damage
reminded me of your shield. It looks uncomfortable to travel with,
when it’s strapped to your arm like that. I was wondering whether
you might like me to rig up a vine strap for you? That way, you could
attach it to your back when you had to walk somewhere. It might be
more comfortable?”
I thought on that for a minute. Sylvi was right, in a way. The
shield did make walking a little more uncomfortable in that I had to
keep it out of the way of my left leg. That meant I often had to hold
it up or focus on keeping my arm away from my thigh. But, the
annoyance it offered seemed so small, especially in relation to the
constant distractions which being attacked brought, that I didn’t
even recognize it until Sylvi brought it up.
“That would be nice, Sylvi,” I said with a smile. “Only, why did
you wait until we saw evidence of something big and dangerous, to
ask me about it?”
I was just joking with the tree, but she cast her eyes down in
embarrassment anyway.
“I’m sorry,” she said with a sniffle. “I didn’t mean for it to be like
that. Just, picturing whatever it was that broke through these
bushes made me think of your defending us when the elves attacked
yesterday. I can see how it look from your perspective, though.”
She looked so downcast that I couldn’t help but chuckle at her
response. I hadn’t meant to upset her, and I reminded myself that
she was from a culture that must be very different from my own.
She was a tree, after all.
Probably, she’s used to a completely different world than any of
us. Acwellan included.
“It’s okay, Sylvi,” I said earnestly. “Really, it is. I was just trying to
mess with you a bit. As for a shield strap, I’d love for you to make
me one. As soon as we get back to the inn, we can use Kacie’s
greatsword to cut up the perfect vines for it. Then, every time I put
it on I’ll remember to think of you.”
The tree blushed even more furiously, and I could tell that she
felt a bit overwhelmed. So, I dropped the subject.
“Should we keep going, in the meantime?” I said. “If you promise
to point out where we should head into the forest, I’ll even lead,
too.”
“Yes,” Sylvi said with a smile. “And thank you for taking the lead.
It still feels weird for me to lead anyone anywhere. Trees my age are
supposed to be settled already. Although I don’t think I want to pick
my spot and put down roots just yet, it still feels weird to be in the
lead. Does that make sense?”
Remembering Grucche’s massive, completely stationary
appearance, I could understand how her culture prioritized a lack of
movement over adventuring. After all, Grucche was so stuck in place
that Mira and I had had to deliver him an elf for a snack. I doubted
that he’d be able to lift himself up and get away, even if a battalion
set up around him and began lit him on fire.
“I guess it does make sense,” I said after considering the
situation. “And I don’t want to make you upset or feel
uncomfortable, Sylvi. If I as you to do something that you don’t
want to, please feel free to tell me so. You don’t even have to
explain why, if you don’t want. I’m sure that our lives have given us
very different outlooks on the world, and I want you to know that I
value you anyway. Besides, I’d be a pretty poor traveler if I couldn’t
adapt to the way you view the world.”
Discovering Diverse Content Through
Random Scribd Documents
"Either him or a robot he's made to keep his machine fed." When
Burgess scowled, Jerry shrugged and appended, "It is his machine,
for all practical purposes. He's the boss of that hungry electronic
monster, Doctor, however the hospital feels about it."
"This Carol. Is she a real woman, or a figment of your imagination,
wishful thinking?"
"She's real enough," Jerry sighed. "She's the personal secretary of
the entire Space zoology program. I take her out sometimes. There's
nothing special between us."
"But you wish there were," said Burgess.
Jerry stared at him. "What makes you think that?"
Burgess tilted his head toward the room where Mawson still
maintained control. "Your visions in there. You must think a lot of
her. You can kid yourself consciously; but nearly all you underwent in
there came straight from your subconscious. And a subconscious
just doesn't know how to lie."
Jerry changed the subject, "What's our next move? How soon can I
go back after Mawson?"
"You can't. Mawson's knowledge of this Carol can easily be turned to
your disadvantage. He can use her to lead you to dissolution in
there. No, it's much too risky. You're lucky you got out when you
did."
"But what about Mawson, then?"

Burgess tried to look confident. He failed. "We can ring up your

headquarters and ask for another man. Or, if worse comes to worse,
we can partition off this part of the hospital, and just sit it out until
Mawson runs out of atomic building blocks."
"Which may take years," Jerry reminded him.
Burgess turned his palms upward. "What else can we do?"
"Send me again," said Jerry. "I know the score pretty well, now. I
know what to watch out for. I'm sure that with one more try I can
get Mawson out of there."
"Sorry," Burgess said, shaking his head. "As a medical man, I cannot
permit it. You've had a bad shock. We'll try someone else, if your
outfit will send someone, and see what happens. If he fails, or if
they won't supply us with any more men, then—well, you can try
again in a few weeks, if you're still game. But not now."
"Doctor, in a few weeks, Mawson will be so well in control of that
universe that he may find a way to block the entrance. Have you
thought of that?"
"His universe is not a real one—" Burgess began.
"But that duplicator is real enough. It can make anything he decides
he needs. And at any time he may get the bright idea of simply
mounting his machine right at the entrance, so anyone stepping into
that gray field will be powdered into atoms, instantly."
"That's true enough," admitted Burgess. "But my diagnosis still
stands. For now, you are off this assignment. When I feel you're
ready—assuming nothing else has succeeded meantime—I'll contact
you at the base."
"How do you know I won't be off on some other planet by then?"
asked Jerry bitterly.
"I don't," said Burgess. "I hope you are not, but there isn't anything
further I can do about it. I'm sorry."
"And what do I do in the meantime?"
Burgess grinned. "Call up this Carol and go out on the town."
Jerry shook his head at the last part. "No thanks. I prefer Carol to
know nothing about it."
Burgess shrugged and gave it up. "All right, Norcriss. Rest here till
you feel stronger, then you're free to go." Then he was striding off
down the corridor.
After a bit, Jerry sat up cautiously, let the slight giddiness subside,
then swung his legs off the side of the cart and got down.
Behind him, the door to Mawson's universe stood open on its wall of
grayness. Jerry stared thoughtfully at it, then saw that the two
internes who were guarding the opposite ends of this section of the
hospital corridor were hesitantly half-starting toward him. Jerry knew
he could be through that doorway and into the grayness before they
got within ten feet of him....

IV

Then his shoulders slumped, and he turned and walked toward the
elevators. Burgess was right. He felt worn out, and uninclined to
make grandstand plays. Besides, he thought, thumbing the elevator
button, it would be nice to see the real Carol again, after her
nebulous pseudo-self. He wanted very much to put his arms around
a girl who wouldn't suddenly turn into something horrible in his
embrace.
The steel doors slid open before him, and the elevator boy leaned
out to check the corridor for other passengers. "Down," he said.
Jerry nodded and started into the elevator.
Then he hesitated, and looked back toward the room where Mawson
reigned supreme, then back at the elevator boy. "Say," he said,
uncertainly, "that's a strange outfit for an elevator attendant in a
hospital. I'd have expected an orderly in an all-white getup."
The boy glanced down at his uniform, the bright blue pants, shined
black shoes, and scarlet jacket bright with twin rows of brass
buttons. "I suppose it is," he said. "But I don't usually run this
elevator. I'm from the hotel next door. I'm just doing this while the
regular guy takes his coffee break."
Jerry hesitated, then stepped toward the waiting elevator with its
pale gray walls. And stopped again. His hand went to his forehead,
bewilderedly. "There's something—" he said.
Then Carol was beside him, slipping her arm through his. "Come on,
Jerry," she said urgently. "We'll be late for our date."
Jerry looked at her, then at the hotel corridor behind her, then again
at the waiting elevator.
"I have the oddest feeling something's wrong," he said. "I—I don't
remember coming over here for you."
"You didn't," she said promptly. "I came for you, Jerry. This is your
hotel, remember? Doctor Burgess said you'd had a bad shock, but I
didn't know how bad till now."
"Shock?" said Jerry. "What shock? What was bothering me?"
Carol smiled tightly. "Nothing. Nothing at all. Come on, Jerry,
darling." Again she drew him toward the elevator.
"If I could only remember," he said, uneasily, on the brink of that
open cube of bright grayness. Then his eyes focused upon the brass
buttons fronting the boy's jacket, and at his own shadow as it
passed across those glowing hemispheres. As the shadow crossed a
button, the color would die, and the button would be dull crystal,
and then glow bright and brassy again when the shadow had
passed.
"Photoelectric cells!" said Jerry. "Light-sensitive cells. Those aren't
buttons, they're eyes! Multiple robot eyes!" He staggered away from
the boy. Carol stopped him.
The elevator boy, suddenly half again Jerry's height, was towering
over him, long steel arms extending like hooked telescopes toward
him. "Get in, Jerry, get in!" cried Carol, struggling to push him
forward toward those invincible metal clamps.
In a fury of fear, Jerry fought her, grappled with her, twisted to avoid
those extending robot hands that would drag him to destruction.
And suddenly Carol was screaming his name, and her eyes were
pools of terror and betrayal, and the leaping metal fingers had
buried themselves in the soft flesh of her shoulders and dragged her
back into grayness.
Incredible energies came alive about her, and then there was only a
shimmer of dusty crystalline winds, and she was gone.
Jerry found himself standing before the still-warm plates of the
atomic duplicator, in the room where Mawson had had his short-lived
universe. Beside the machine, a squat cubic box dangled limp steel
arms, its rows of photo-electric cells losing their golden glow.
And then, as Burgess came hurrying in through the door, he toppled
over in a dead faint.

"So there is no such person as Carol?" said Burgess, standing at the

foot of the hospital bed. "She was only the figment of your
imagination?"
"Yes," said Jerry dully. "And all along, it was Mawson I was really
with. He was clever, all right. She was certainly the last occupant of
that crazy place I was likely to attack. If he had not tried attacking
me himself—I might be atom dust by now. A little longer, and she—
he, I mean—might have talked me into that elevator."
"Well," said Burgess, "I'm sorry this thing ended with Mawson's
dissolution, but that can't be helped. You did your job well,
Lieutenant."
"Thanks," said Jerry, expressionlessly.
"To come so near death so many times—" Burgess shuddered. "You
have a remarkable constitution, not to have cracked under such a
strain. Lieutenant, you're a lucky man."
And Jerry, his mind still filled with a vision of golden hair, soft brown
eyes and warm, eager lips, could only echo wearily, "Very lucky."

END
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