Naeva vaguely noted an oddly spicy, yet sweet, smell as she entered Molly's house.
"How was the search?" Molly asked offhandedly, adding a pinch of some spice or another to the simmering pot.
Naeva grunted. At Molly's insistence, she'd received a haircut. It was barely any longer than that of the boys in town, but at least it was neatly done. She hadn't had a comb or a brush in ages; this was a refreshing change.
Even with the new haircut and somewhat restored physical build, no one had hired her. She had tried applying for simple, peaceful jobs, but the people hiring had rejected her politely.
They all had their reasons, but Naeva saw their discomfort. She always glanced at potential escape routes while she spoke, and her hand twitched towards her staff at the slightest unexpected sound. They knew she was paranoid, as did she, but old habits, especially ones that had kept her alive since childhood, didn't easily remove themselves.
"You look tired," Molly noted.
Naeva glanced at her. "Not tired. Annoyed."
Molly nodded and didn't speak. Probably wise. As stubborn as she'd been about avoiding fights, Naeva was itching to pull her staff out of its sling, and whoever prodded her next was not likely to have a good time.
She sat down, emotionally exhausted. Resisting the urge to let her mind shut down just yet, she said, "That's a new smell. What are you cooking?"
Molly added a dash of something red and stirred it in; the smell grew spicier. "It's a mutton stew, in the style of the eastern peaks. Polina's visiting again tonight, and she's bringing Erin Snell, a woman from her order. Polina said something about a girls' night, and this is Erin's favorite."
That did admittedly sound nice, but something about the circumstances made Naeva suspicious. "Polina's already visiting again?"
"Mm-hm."
"And she's bringing one of her guild members?"
"Order members," Molly corrected. "A lot of them are more like corporations than guilds. Small distinction, but it's an important thing to remember."
Naeva scowled. "She's trying to recruit me again."
"Possibly," Molly said, picking up the ladle and taking a sniff. Her brow furrowing, she reached for the spice rack again.
"She's persistent," Naeva said, feeling an urge to press the subject. "It hasn't even been a week since she found out I was here. She's starting to get annoying."
Molly selected a bottle and knocked four puffs of spicy-smelling powder into the stew. "I think your own stubbornness is the main thing that makes it annoying. She thinks you would do well in Lowly Champion. What's wrong with that?"
Naeva grunted again.
Molly chuckled and gave the stew a taste. Looking satisfied, she turned down the stove and moved to the table. She sat down and silently watched Naeva sulk.
After a minute or so, Molly's silence started to make Naeva uncomfortable, so she said, "The, uh, the stew's done, right? When are the others going to—?"
The door opened and Polina walked in, wearing jeans, a sweater, and a pleasant smile. Prepared for her, Naeva didn't react to this. Her eyes widened, however, the moment she saw the woman behind her. The woman wore torn jeans and a T-shirt, but that only seemed to accent the rest. Her hair seemed to flow, even at only shoulder-length, and the way she walked seemed to radiate confidence. She bore a proud figure that Naeva had never associated with fighters.
And if this woman was really part of an order, Naeva thought, it was a miracle she hadn't been torn to pieces yet.
Even so, Naeva noticed things that most people probably wouldn't. The striking green in her eyes was natural; this Snell woman didn't wear contacts. In fact, she didn't seem to use makeup of any sort. She took care of herself; the silky hair was proof of that much, but she didn't seem to care much about her own appearance. Maybe there was more to this one than just the face.
"Hey, Mrs. Pastel," she said with a smile. Her teeth seemed to surpass any level of white Naeva had thought possible. Was all that necessary?
Polina waved to her mother before approaching Naeva. "Hi, Naeva!"
Stiffly, Naeva shook her hand. "Hi."
"Relax, kid," Erin said. "'Lina felt bad enough for surprising you with her offer the other day. She's not the kind of person to try to sneak another request on you under the pretense of a 'girls' night.' If 'Lina says she wants a girls' night, we're getting a girls' night."
Still uncertain, Naeva glanced a Molly. The woman nodded, confirming the statement, so Naeva allowed herself to relax a little bit. "Sorry. I've had some very persistent people chasing me my whole life."
Polina nodded and sat down. "That's understandable. Are you comfortable talking about it?"
"Some of it," Naeva said, shrugging. "I was kidnapped by Baykok bandits when I was eight. Not sure what happened to my home. I got out, and I met Master Zero when I was ten. He taught me until I was eleven and gave me my staff. He left after that, and I've been wandering around, fighting off bandits. One in particular..." She shook her head. "Anyway, I heard that Tierisch was better, so I left. That's all."
Erin raised an eyebrow. "What were you saying a moment ago? One in particular?"
Polina nudged Erin with an elbow, having noticed Naeva's darkening expression.
"She doesn't have to give us all the details, Erin. We're not here to force anything from her."
"That's all," Naeva repeated quietly, locking eyes with Erin. She still wasn't altogether convinced this woman could fight. She seemed more like she belonged with a group of socialites in the capital than with an order.
Two days living in a real town, and I'm already assuming her capability based on stereotypes, Naeva thought wryly. She preferred to reserve judgment, but rumors from townsfolk in the villages she'd visited over the years had conditioned her in spite of herself. Right, then. Gotta get rid of that. Stereotypes are rarely accurate; Finster isn't exclusively wildmen, after all.
A sharp click pulled Naeva out of her thoughts. Molly had taken the pot from the extinguished stove; Polina placed a cooling pad on the table just before her mother set it down.
Erin inhaled deeply, and her calm demeanor immediately fled. Her eyes lit up, and an expression of astonished delight spread across every feature of her face.
"Mutton stew!" Erin exclaimed. "It's been years...!" She jumped to her feet and pulled Molly into a forceful hug. Amid the onslaught of grateful words, Naeva blinked in surprise. Either Naeva was having an aneurysm, or Erin had just moved across the room more quickly than Naeva could clearly see, even with her griffin eyes active.
As Erin calmed down enough to release Molly, Polina leaned in and whispered, "Erin's from Gefroren, in the mountains to the east. This is a delicacy from Toppur, where she was born."
Erin finally sat down, but the rapid bounce of her knee didn't go unnoticed. "Most people in Tierisch can't handle the spice, so I don't get the chance to have it very often." Smiling nostalgically, she said, "Molly used to make it for me all the time."
"Why didn't you cook it yourself?" Naeva asked her.
While Erin sank in her chair, Polina laughed and said, "We don't let her near cooking implements unless she needs a weapon. Even then, it's only a last resort."
"I'm not that bad at cooking," Erin said embarrassedly.
"Radley's killed an Aquarius, and the fire took him hours to douse even with the sink bursting," Polina noted. Naeva's mouth twitched.
The conversation died down as everyone served up their food. The stew was spicier than Naeva liked, but she wasn't picky. She ate her bowl slowly, preferring much smaller portions now that she wasn't starving to death.
On the other hand, Erin looked like she might've been starved. Naeva slowly looked up, surprised, as Erin finished her bowl, refilled it, and got started on the second helping. She seemed to savor every bite, even while eating more quickly than most scrounging wanderers Naeva had met. Polina and Molly were both sweating a bit in spite of their slow bites, but Erin's complexion remained exactly the same even as she found a whole pepper in her bowl. She really did like this food.
Polina noticed her staring. "She's always been a big eater. You get used to it."
For the first time since Erin's arrival, Naeva felt a slight stab of envy. "How is she still fit enough to fight with that appetite?"
Erin shrugged, her mouth full of stew. "Oph alphwyth hedth mthtepholthm."
Molly and Naeva stared at her blankly, Molly's eyes glancing disdainfully at the spray of half-chewed food that now occupied a square foot of table.
"She said she's always had a good metabolism," Polina translated, moving to assist her mother in cleaning. Naeva didn't break her gaze from the Snell woman. Her appearance and her personality were at complete odds with each other. Naeva had grown up in the jungle, and she was still astonished at Erin's manners.
Granted, Erin's behavior wasn't that of a child or an animal. It was more like... she was trying to project the idea that she didn't care what went on around her.
Interesting.
Erin helped them clear the table, having finished her third bowl. Molly glanced at her appreciatively. "I don't see you helping tidy up often, Erin."
Polina snorted, trying to keep back a laugh. Erin shot her a look, and Naeva looked up from the glass she was rinsing, sensing a story approaching.
"I'm doing this to keep Radley from making a Mark-2 of his latest invention," Erin said quietly.
Polina gave in and chuckled. "The other day, I mentioned a potential application for her speed. She said she couldn't stop easily, so she would leave footprints all over the walls."
Erin shook her head, smiling wryly. "So Radley ran off and started making something in his room, like he does. The next day, he came out with a pair of socks made out of washrags."
Polina was busting a gut, but she managed to compose herself enough to choke out, "He told her she could use them to clean the floor and t-the walls. And he somehow managed to convince Erin to try it!"
"It started out fine," Erin said defensively, beginning to scrub her place. "I got a rhythm going, sweeping or scrubbing while using my speed to hop on and off the walls. For once, cleaning was starting to sound fun."
"And then she reached the back hallway," Polina said, the glee evident on her face.
"And then I reached the back hallway," Erin confirmed, a hand over her eyes. "I can run on hallway walls—I've done it before. Unfortunately for me, I wasn't used to swapping walls with soap-covered socks."
"You tried to jump to the opposite wall," Naeva guessed.
Erin nodded, actually blushing. "I tried to move like I do when I run, but I slipped."
Naeva's mouth twitched again, and Polina said, "All we saw in the meantime, though... One moment she was standing in a bucket of soapy water, but suddenly she was gone, half the house was spotless, and we heard Erin's scream followed by a crash. We found her in the pantry, woozy and covered in just about every snack food and breakfast cereal we had."
"It wouldn't have been bad if Valerian hadn't laughed," Erin groaned, slumping back in her chair. "Have you heard him laugh, Molly?"
Looking like a child on Christmas, Molly shook her head. She had done a far better job containing her mirth than her daughter had. "What did it sound like?"
Erin slowly lowered her forehead to the table. "...He laughs like a freakin' hyena."
Elated, Polina watched Molly's jaw drop before the room burst into laughter. Naeva didn't laugh, but another twitch in the corner of her mouth betrayed her. Imagining someone that serious laughing was enough to bring that much out, even in her.
At that moment, Naeva realized two things. First: Whether she joined an order or not, she wanted to know these people.
Second: They were dangerous. Anyone who could get Naeva to relax this much in two days was not to be taken lightly.
"Thank you for your hospitality," Naeva said quietly, finishing her end of the cleaning. "I'll come back if I can't find any pay or food, but other than that... Maybe we'll meet again in passing."
Erin glanced at her, clearly intrigued, but she didn't seem as worried by Naeva's statement as the Pastels were.
"What's this all of a sudden?" Polina asked. "I thought you were starting to enjoy yourself."
That's the problem. "Thank you for everything, Polina; Molly. Farewell."
Before Polina could protest, she was gone.