What Heroes Don't Think About

1. The pitying rain began to fall

It was a dark and stormy day, which was perfect, because that was the best kind of weather for reading. And today was the day that Didi had finally saved up enough money to purchase a book. She hadn't been able to read in nearly a year. There had been no time to bring books from home when they'd left. Kaylessa, the harsh and cruel mistress forcing Didi into a dreary life of servitude, kept no books, and in the entire town of Red Larch there were no libraries.

Only Gaelker had books. Three books, to be exact. Didi had spotted them in his shop three months ago. One was a spell book, about as interesting to Didi as something written in Dwarvish. One was a blank journal. The last was an adventurer's biography. Didi would have preferred a novel, but at this point she would take anything. But before she'd even been able to read as far as the description on the book's inside cover, Gaelker had shouted at her to take the lye soap she'd been sent for and get out of his shop or he'd send her back to the town jail. Ever since then, she'd obsessed over the book as though it were the next volume in her favorite series, mind brimming over about the possible contents of the book. She'd been living off the leftover chickpea cakes and brothy soups from the Swinging Swords Inn kitchen, saving her meager earnings.

Gaelker did not pretend to welcome her when she arrived at his shop. "What do you want?" he asked, stretching the word "you" in a way that made it sound like a dirty word.

"Do you still have those books?" Didi asked, ignoring his tone.

His glare sharpened. "Yes."

His glare followed her as she skipped through the aisle to the dusty corner with the miscellaneous unwanted objects, picked up the book, and lovingly brushed off the dust. He shifted impatiently at her, and, eager to get back with the book herself, she obligingly set the book down on the counter and retrieved her collected coins. Gaelker made a point of counting them carefully, inspecting each piece as though he suspected it to be the result of illusion magic, but he didn't let his eyes stray too far from Didi, either. His attitude was almost enough to make her want to steal something from him out of principle, but he was watching too closely. He would notice. She wasn't afraid of him, but he would tell Kaylessa. Whenever Kaylessa found out that Didi stole something, she dragged Didi to the victim by the ear and made her apologize.

When at last Gaelker was satisfied with the authenticity of the coins, he huffed, as though frustrated he hadn't found a reason to call for her imprisonment. "There you go. Now git!" He grunted as he slammed the book on the table and waved her away.

It was pouring. She shoved the book down the front of her blouse and clung it close to her chest as she ran back to the inn, leaping over puddles. The rain itself less of a problem than the several carriages that passed her, splashing her from the side–fortunately, she heard them coming and had the foresight to shift the precious book to the side not facing the road.

Kaylessa was checking customers in at the front desk when Didi made it to the Inn. When she saw her she paused her transaction to gape at her. "Goodness, gracious, child! Where in the world have you been!? Go get changed into something presentable and get down here! They need you in the kitchen! And for goodness sakes, take off those boots!"

The volume in the dining room as she passed by was unusual. Weather like this had urged the travelers in the forest to hurry to the next town, and discouraged the current guests from continuing their journeys. They were booked full. That meant no leftovers. Didi changed, set the (dry, thankfully) book down on her desk, and raced downstairs so she'd have a chance to snatch some food before it was gone.

It was hours (though it felt like centuries) later when the kitchen was closed up and cleaned to Kaylessa's satisfaction. The chaos of the dinner rush had not been enough to keep Didi's mind off the book; she'd performed her duties on autopilot until it was time to clean up, at which point she'd focused on working efficiently so she could go to her room. When the only dish left was the stained old pan and Didi's fingers were raisined and red, Kaylessa finally dismissed her. "Well done," Kaylessa said, looking over the tidy kitchen. "Good girl. You head on up to bed; I'll finish this last one. Just dump the mop water out on your way."