Braxos was on duty again today. He was equally as chatty, so the day passed once again in near-complete silence. My stomach is screaming for food. All I've eaten so far today is a loaf of Traigh bread thanks to Sailor. I wave goodbye to Braxos and set off down the path between tents toward the center of Haven.
Voices murmur from the open dining space. I follow both that and the smell of spices inward to the cluster of tables already filling with people and food. Nerves skitter up and down my spine, but I walk confidently toward the food.
You helped out, I think, you can have this food. But as I feel myself watching everyone else, I know it's not the food that's making me anxious, it's the way their eyes automatically glide over to my left forearm, curiosity getting the best of them.
I've kept my arm in its bandages, so my Fate is out of sight, but even still, I keep my arm tucked to my ribcage and out of view.
I spot Tanymede and the waving women, along with Braxos and his daughter. The Educator sits with a small group of people, small dimples marking his smile. I don't see Rogue anywhere, but I keep looking as I head to the food stations.
Large, clay pots stand atop small warming fires along the open side of the space. I pick up a porcelain bowl, taking care not to squeeze the fine china too hard. It's beautifully-wrought with delicate gold filigree decorating the scene of a phoenix resting by a mountain lake. It almost hurts to dirty it with soup.
The soup is some sort of chowder with a thick cream sauce and more potatoes than I have ever seen in one place. There doesn't seem to be any other meat or vegetable, but it smells divine.
I move away from the soup line and look around for Rogue once again. I'm so lost in trying to find his flash of red hair, that I walk headfirst into someone. The soup sloshes out of the bowl. I grit my teeth against the burn of it on my skin.
"Hello." The woman's voice is low and rough. She looks close to Alani's age, but she lacks all of Alani's warmth.
"Hello," I say, ducking my head in a quick show of politeness.
"I hear you've met my sister," the woman says.
"Oh?" I ask. I search her face, trying to pick out any sort of resemblance to someone I've met before.
"Tanymede," the woman says.
Ah. There is a similar look in their faces, but this woman's features are sharp and angled, whereas Tanymede's are round and full of life.
"Don't become attached," the woman says. She moves to my left to pluck a bowl from the pile. "She's weak."
I swallow. "Well I think—"
"I don't care what you think." The woman cuts across me, leaving with her bowl and without a backward glance.
I watch as she moves from table to table, managing to cast each one in her shadow before settling at the farthest one with the Elch Rogue smiled at, and Not-Binks.
She doesn't throw one look at Tanymede as she passes, but I see Tanymede watching her out of the corner of her eye. Her lips tighten as her sister sits without saying hello.
I weave between the stools and tables and make my way toward Tanymede. She's the only friendly face I recognize. Of course, everyone else seems welcoming enough, but Tanymede knows who I am, and she hasn't pushed me away for it. Yet.
There's already a small cluster of people at her table. I take a seat to the left of an Epiphagy. One large eye swivels to look me over, while the other stays rooted to his food. I swallow. The healer's anatomy book says an Epiphagy's brain is located in their chest cavity. They don't have heads, per se, they have two large eyes set just on either side of their collar bone.
I would flip through the anatomy book while healing after I "died".
I wonder if the healer's still okay, or if Alani's accusation has caught up with him.
"Hello," I say to the Epiphagy.
"Hello," he...murmurs. It's a strange kind of fluttering sound, like wind moving through a reed tube. His mouth is somewhere around his belly button. I can't see it beneath the edge of the table.
"I'm Mira," I say, holding out my right hand.
The Epiphagy's other eye swivels over to look at me. He takes my hand and shakes it, hard.
"Char," he says. "Short for Charlatan." One eye looks to his Fate and I follow, reading the letters curled against his skin.
"Though I am the most honest individual you will ever meet," he says with a wink.
Tanymede barks a laugh. "Well that's a load of smudge," she says. She sits down at the table and pulls her plate closer. It's loaded with all sorts of vegetables and a roasted drumstick.
"Never play cards with him," Tanymede says. She pulls at the drumstick with her teeth. "He cheats."
Char lets go of my hand. He sets his own beneath his eye, as if over his heart. "What a heartless accusation," he says.
Tanymede points the drumstick at him. "Oh? And how did you win the last game, eh? Did those extra Ruby cards just appear out of thin air then?"
Char blinks multiple times in a row. The skin around his eyes turns bright pink. "What a, uh, lovely meal," he says finally, grasping for a new conversation topic.
I smile and pick up a piece of bread from my plate.
The two women who waved before are chattering away at the end of the table. I only catch every fourth or fifth word. They're speaking faster than I would've thought possible, their frothy mugs clinking against one another as they lean over the table.
"Sisters," Tanymede says around a mouthful of grilled root vegetables. She nods her head toward the women at the end of the table. "They were separated for years. Job placement for the one's husband. And now they've reconnected here in Haven."
"Where's the one's husband?" I ask. I place another piece of Traigh bread on my tongue. It melts instantly, leaving a light, buttery taste in my mouth. I have to keep myself from closing my eyes in pleasure.
Tanymede swallows. "He died," she says. She doesn't elaborate.
"Oh." I chew another piece of bread. "I, uh, met your sister," I say, looking at my fingers.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Tanymede stiffen. She pats her lips with her napkin before speaking.
"Ah, Sani," she says. "Courtesan, as Rogue would have you know her." Tanymede places the cloth napkin over her knees.
I look over toward Sani and Not-Binks. There's a white Fate wending up Sani's dark-skinned arm, but I can't read what it says from here.
"Is she why you're here?" I ask.
There's a hush at the table. My stomach tightens. I've said something wrong.
"Can I not be here simply because I believe in the cause?" Tanymede asks neutrally.
"Of course, of course. I'm sorry," I say quickly.
A smile quirks Tanymede's lips. She watches me struggle for a moment, before cutting through my apology.
"Sani is initially what brought me here, but then all these other people just dragged me into their lives and now I'm stuck loving them like family and willing to risk my very precious life for all of these fools." Tanymede heaves a dramatic sigh. Her eyes catch someone behind me and a spark lights up in them. "Speaking of, here's one of those fools now."
I shift in my seat to look over my shoulder. A tall, elegant male Elf walks with a straight spine toward the table. He places his tray of food before him on the table, and he sits across from me and next to Tanymede, all the while keeping his upper body very still.
"Hello," I say to him. I lean across the table and extend my hand.
The Elf stares at it with swirling, grey eyes.
"He is...quiet," Char intones.
Tanymede sighs. "He's just shy." She pats his arm. "Call him Vates."
"Vates," I repeat.
Vates flicks his eyes to mine. He doesn't blink, but the silver of his irises swirl like a tempest.
I shudder. I can't help feeling that if I look any longer, I'll fall into that pool of mercury and never come out.
"Vates, what's the gossip?" Tanymede asks straight-faced. She dips a pewter spoon into her bowl of stew.
Vates blinks. I almost jump from the sheer surprise of it.
"Oh," Tanymede says. She chews and swallows. "Do you really think so?"
Char snorts. It's an odd sound to hear coming from beneath the table.
"Can I join yae?" Sailor asks. He stands at the end of the table holding a small plate of bread and cheese.
"Of course! Now shove up Vates and make some room." Tanymede scoots to her left, pressing into Vates. He seems to come back into himself with such a look of bafflement it's hard not to snort myself.
"Deepest apologies," Vates rumbles. He moves fluidly into the next chair.
Tanymede pushes Vates's plate in front of him. Though she begins talking to Sailor, I notice that she takes care to place a napkin over Vates's lap, patting his forearm as she does.
"Has Rogue run off again?" Char asks. He brings a drumstick below the table. I look away, in case his eating requires...privacy.
Sailor nods. "Yes," he says, his mouth full of bread. "Bu' i's for an important reason."
Tanymede rolls her eyes. "Of course it is." She pulls apart her own roll of Traigh bread and crumbs tumble from the table, landing in Vates's lap.
"No, really," Sailor says earnestly. "'e's going to look for Esmeralda!"
"I'm sorry," I say, piping up, "but who is Esmeralda?"
"Rogue's sister," Sailor answers. "Shae 'elped found 'aven with Rogue. Also I think she 'elped 'im in other ways, but 'e won' say. I think i' was something tae do with 'is family."
"And we won't speculate," Tanymede says sternly. "What's Rogue's business is Rogue's business." She wipes crumbs from Vates's lap. He continues staring blankly ahead, as if completely unaware of what's going on around him.
My left arm twinges, remembering the feeling of Rogue's fingers against my Fate. "So, Rogue's...gone?" I ask.
Sailor nods again. "Bu' he'll be back! Don' worry."
Tanymede stands suddenly. "Oh Seftis," she says.
I turn to look over my shoulder. A young man with tanned skin and biceps thicker than my two legs together stops at our table. He breaks into a broad smile.
"Tanymede," he says, "how do you like dinner?" His voice is thick with an Aktian accent. The words all seem to originate from the back of his throat.
Tanymede's smile freezes on her face. "Oh it's...well, it's..."
Seftis hangs his head. "Dry. I know this. Too long left over fire. I have shamed you."
"Great Gaia no," I say suddenly. "It's exquisite."
Seftis raises his face from his hands. "You like it?"
"Yes," I say earnestly. "In fact, I would love to know your recipe for the soup."
Tanymede gapes at me.
Seftis straightens with pride. He smooths the apron straining against his broad chest. "This I can teach you."
"I would like that, thank you," I say.
Seftis takes my hand in his. He bends to lightly kiss my knuckles, before letting go and walking away.
Tanymede lowers herself to her seat. "Well, I suppose that could've gone worse. Next time, dear, you don't need to lie to the poor man. His ego is already big enough."
"I wasn't lying. I actually do like the soup. We didn't have anything like this in the prison," I say. I realize too late that I've said too much about myself.
Everyone at the table quiets and turns toward me.
"At the prison?" Tanymede asks.
I chew my lip, stalling. "Ah, yes," I say, stirring my spoon in its soup bowl. "I was imprisoned for three years."
"Did you have to fight in those duels?" one of the waving women asks from the end of the table. She's looking at me as if she's trying to place my face.
My stomach roils. What if she was one of the nobles egging me on before she came here? She's certainly dressed well enough for a higher class in her flowing silk dress cinched at the waist with a silver rope belt.
"I did," I say.
The woman slaps the table. She points to her sister across the table. "What did I tell you? I knew she was the Thief!" the woman says.
I stop stirring my soup. This is it. It's all over now.
I try to fight back the tears I can feel building behind my eyes. It had felt so good just moments before. Sitting with all these people. It had felt almost like home.
"But didn't the Thief die?" the woman's sister asks. They both turn to me.
"Yes," Tanymede says. "Didn't the Thief die?" She leans forward on her elbows and rests her chin on her fists.
I swallow. "I did," I say, "for a bit. But, uh, the healer at the prison saved me, and healed me, for the most part, and now I'm here. Because Rogue and Sailor—" Sailor nods "—found me in the woods outside the prison and brought me to help make me better so I can get home to my father."
I finish and stare at the table. I wait for their gasps. I wait for the sound of chairs scraping against the sand as people leave the table. I wait for them to clutch their trays of food closer, expecting me to steal every morsel.
"What an inspiration," the silk-dressed woman breathes.
"I'm sorry, what?" I ask.
She shakes her head in awe and sympathy. "You poor thing, you had to live through all of that and kill your friends, and now you've made it out alive and are here to help fight for the cause so that the rest of us don't have to suffer your same fate."
"You...you think what I did is...inspirational?" I think of Alyxsandra, Tyrindal, Ren, Fynnder, Samm, Percival, Yontel, Triane, Myles, Jak, Cass, and the Welder. I think of Phyl and Ezzi, the healer and Alani. All the people I hurt just because of who I am.
"Yes of course," the woman says. "You were just a boost to the king's narrative about us. We read the stories, we heard the news. We know it's not your fault. But now you're here and you've been in the inside and you can help us fight so no one else has to go through what you went through."
I sink into my chair. "I stole the princess's ruby." It's the first time I've ever said it out loud. "That's what put me in the prison."
"And you think you're nothing more than a thief because of it?" Tanymede asks. She's eyeing me shrewdly and I sink even lower.
"Yes," I admit.
"Char cheats at cards, but we still play Zemet with him every day. One mistake does not define you for life. You don't have to be the Thief if you don't want to be," Tanymede says.
"I took her bracelet and she still love me," the silk-dressed woman says, pointing to her sister.
The sister eyes the silver bracelet. "Wait a second," she says. "I didn't know that was mine."
"So then do you really miss it?" the first woman retorts.
"Yes, I do."
They turn to each other and bicker, their voices getting faster and faster with each passing breath.
"Yae aren't a thief," Sailor says. "Jus' like I'm no' a sailor, nor is Char a Charlatan."
"Jury's still out on that one," Tanymede says, but she lessens it with a smile. "But Sailor's right. You're you. You're Mira, and that's who we care about."
Tanymede's saying the only thing I've ever wanted to hear and the words make me instantly emotional, so I shove the last of the Traigh bread in my mouth to try and push away the forming lump in my throat.
Tanymede turns to Vates. "Would you like some soup?" she asks quietly, holding out a spoonful to him.
Vates says nothing. He doesn't even move.
Tanymede sighs sadly and eats the soup herself.
Throughout the rest of the meal, I listen to the conversations reverberating around me. The two women at the end of the table still bicker, but every now and then it's punctuated by laughter. Tanymede and Sailor strike up a conversation about which supplies they'll need to get on the supply run, and Char asks for new Zemet cards, only to be answered with a resounding, "no."
Every part of this feels so effortlessly normal. And even though everyone around this table knows who I am, they don't look at me like they're waiting for me to live up to the word on my arm. They look at me as if...as if it doesn't matter.
I can feeling myself wondering what it would be like to stay here, and I silence those thoughts. I have to get home. But maybe...maybe home can be a more temporary visit...
When we've finished eating, I stand to clear my plate, but Tanymede stops me.
"It's Balkeze's turn," she says, though she grits her teeth as she says it.
"Who's Balkeze?" I ask.
A single crash answers my question. I spin around to see a Skiapode surrounded by shattered porcelain and earthenware. He's wearing a stained apron that falls just below his large, bony knee.
I clutch my own ceramic bowl closer to my chest.
"On the one hand, I feel bad for him," Tanymede says, then lowers her voice, "but on the other hand, tomorrow I'll sell more pottery." She grins mischievously.
"Should someone help him?" I ask, feeling a bit at a loss. Already two other Skiapodes have rushed to help Balkeze, but I still feel as if I should contribute something. Like a broom or a dustpan.
"No, no, let him handle it. It's his job after all," Tanymede says. She takes Vates's dinnerware and stacks it on the tray with her own.
I fumble with the ceramic bowl I used as I tuck it into my sling. I convince myself it's because it's too beautiful to risk getting smashed, and so I mentally promise to wash the bowl myself.
"So," she says, laying the napkins on top of the plates, "what time shall we begin training tomorrow?"
"Oh, well I have to do sentry duty with Braxos—"
Tanymede shakes her head. "We'll get someone else for the position. Someone with two working arms, just in case."
I bristle, instinctively wanting to defend myself and prove my worth, but Tanymede's right. There's a whole community here that needs protecting, and I'm simply not the best person for the job.
"Then, I guess sometime in the morning?" I say. "But without the sentry position, I'm not sure how I can repay you."
Tanymede sucks on her lip. "You know," she says, "I've been a bit swamped at the shop. I might need an apprentice in between training sessions."
"Really?" I ask.
She adjusts her head scarf. "Well, it's back-breaking work to sweep and empty the rubbish. It would be such a help if someone were to take over those more...odious tasks." She winks at me, and I break into a grin. No one has ever offered me a job before.
"Zemet anyone?" Char rumbles from the table. He pulls a velvet drawstring pouch from a suede bag looped around his waist and dumps the contents onto the table. The cards are exquisitely painted. I've never seen a set so beautiful.
Tanymede rolls her eyes. "You're just hoping to win your seven kerma back from Vates."
Char grumbles. His large ears turn a vibrant shade of pink.
"It's not going to happen," Tanymede says. "You should know by now not to bet against Vates." She casts the Elf an affectionate glance.
Char gathers up the cards and tucks them back into their pouch. He stands, and it's the first time I've seen his mouth. It's broad and rests just below where a belly button would be. Every word he speaks seems to start at one end of his lips and tumbles across to the other. Beneath that, are a pair of sturdy leather pants covering his legs.
Tanymede stands as well. She and Char bicker back and forth as they walk away from the table toward the sound of a crackling campfire. I can see the smoke billowing up past the tops of the nearest tents.
Vates rises, and like a mist he floats between the members of the crowd to follow in Tanymede's and Char's wake.
Only Sailor and I are left at our table, the other women having gone in search of dessert.
"So, what happens now?" I ask.
Sailor smiles. "Stories."
He leads me away from the dining area and toward the massive central campfire. Flames lick and spit against thick cords of wood. Mugs of steaming chocolate are passed around, as people gather chairs and blankets and cluster beside the fire.
Despite the arid heat of the day, the night has turned cold. I grit my teeth to keep them from chattering. I wish I had a blanket, but I still feel supremely awkward borrowing everything from everyone. I can't shake the feeling that they'll think I've stolen it.
"Chocolate?" Sailor asks, holding out a mug. I take it gratefully and curl the mug against the inside of my wrist, hoping to heat up my veins.
The setting is so familiar it hurts. Back home in the Laplands, nearly every night we would crowd around the fire and swap stories. Generally, there was an elder elected by village for the month who would stand and start the ceremonies. She or he would tell at least three stories, then would open the floor for others. The first stories were intended to be tame while the children were still among us, but after they'd gone to bed, they tended to turn a bit bawdy. I remember the first time I was allowed to stay up for Hove's stories. I'd learned more about anatomy that night than I'd ever wished to know.
"Who starts?" I ask, leaning into Sailor.
He bends his head toward me. "Tanymede. Shae's in charge when Rogue is gone."
"Does Rogue leave often?" I ask. I take a sip of the hot chocolate. It's smooth with a hint of malt and warms me up from the inside out.
Sailor shakes his head, pauses, then nods. "Sometimes. Bu' he always has a good reason."
At that moment, Tanymede walks toward the center of the ring. It seems as if everyone has crowded around the fire. A cluster of kids giggles amongst themselves. They sit closest to the fire and roast sugar puffs on the end of long sticks.
A hush falls over the crowd as Tanymede clears her throat. It's an expectant silence, only punctuated by the soft clinking of earthenware as Balkeze finishes with his cleaning.
"Once upon a time," Tanymede says, and with her lyrical Anglian accent, she has the perfect voice for storytelling. "There were Eight Beauties."
It's a story I've heard before, one that's both tragic and beautiful all at once. It's one of those stories that may have originated in truth but has since become legend.
Tanymede walks slowly around the campfire. "These Eight Beauties were born in the time just after dear Gaia and Pontus were taken from us."
A whispered murmur filters through the crowd—hushed prayers for our ancestors.
"Yes," Tanymede says, hanging her head solemnly. "It was a dark time. But a time that was made brighter with the birth of the Eight Beauties.
"Now, these Beauties were born with their names printed on their skin: Turquoise, Amethyst, Diamond, Amber, Sapphire, Pearl, Jade, and Ruby," she continues.
I find myself whispering the names along with her and clamp my lips shut.
"Turquoise, the oldest and wisest of her sisters. Amethyst, with her sweet disposition and her regal demeanor. Amber, nature-born and bright. Pearl, who loved the sea and sheltered all sailors who were lost."
Sailor shifts next to me. I automatically reach out and squeeze his hand in comfort. I'm startled by what I've done, but Sailor smiles warmly at me and squeezes my hand back, so I don't move it. I keep my palm in his, even though it's uncomfortably sweaty.
"Sapphire," Tanymede continues, "who felt so much yet shined for her sisters." She looks to Sani as she says this, but Sani keeps her eyes firmly trained on the ground.
Tanymede clears her throat. "Jade with her quiet power and easy laugh. Ruby, whose heart was warm and wide. And, youngest of all, Diamond, who was stronger than the rest." She pauses for a breath.
The Beauties are described in the same way, no matter who tells the story. We used to argue over which of us was which Beauty. I always wished to be Ruby or Amethyst, because I liked them the best, but the other kids in the Laplands would tell me I couldn't be any of them, because I was Ill-Fated, and therefore couldn't be pure enough to be one of the Beauties. My mother held me when I told her and said I was all eight, and one day the other kids would find this out.
Tanymede continues. "Now, as we've said, this was in the time after the death of Gaia and Pontus—" the same murmurs wash through the crowd "—and the Lord of Everdark was turning the world to shadow.
"But the Eight gleamed more brightly than all the stars in the sky. As long as they were alive, we knew that the Lord of Everdark could not touch us. Yes, he could maim us, blind us, turn us mad—" it's my turn to shift in my seat, Sailor holding my hand tight "—but he could not destroy our spirit. Not when we knew that the blood of Gaia and Pontus was still strong.
"The Lord of Everdark knew that he needed to have the Eight Beauties for himself. Not solely to dim our lifeblood, but because he wanted them. He yearned for them. He needed them. So, he set out to find them, one by one.
"He found Diamond first. She had heard of his search, and so had hidden away in the caves of Orychío, deep within the Aichmirés mountains.
"Unbeknownst to the Lord of Everdark, the Goddess of Evernight had also heard of his plight. She offered salvation to each of the Eight Beauties: 'You are too loved by those you know and by those whom you've never met. You stand for something you cannot comprehend. I ask of you, will you remain on this world to show that it is possible for beauty to exist in the darkest of places? That it can be formed from the simplest of materials? That it can rise despite the harshest of pressures?'
"The Eight agreed. They did not know what they meant to the world, or even to each other, for who does? Who knows that their small footprint may be what one day shapes the very earth?"
A snuffle sounds by my knee. With a start I realize that James has curled up on the ground next to me. I reach down and scratch behind his ear, only to see a rich, blue velvet cloak dropped on the sand by James's snout. Sailor's cloak. I hand it out to him, but Sailor's shakes his head.
"You use it," he mouths.
"Th-thank you," I stutter. I pull the cloak around my shoulders, instantly feeling warm and cozy.
Sailor smiles, the dimples deep in his cheeks.
"So, as the Lord of Everdark was creeping through Orychíos, the Goddess took Diamond's hand. Though frightened, Diamond knew what must be done. She closed her eyes, and sparkled. She shined brighter than ever before, and her light broke into a thousand small pieces, illuminating the depths of Orychíos and chasing the Lord of Everdark away from the mountains altogether. And there she rests; every incarnation of her standing as a testament to strength and bravery," Tanymede says. She paces around the fire. Everyone is entranced, whether by the simple sound of her voice, or the intimacy of her story. As she relays the legend of the gems, I notice that certain people touch stones hanging around their necks or imbedded in rings around their fingers. The gemstones are said to enhance the qualities the Eight Beauties possessed. Even Sailor has a small pearl in a thick, gold ring around his thumb, but I notice he pockets it during Pearl's saga. Pearl ends up hidden between the shells of oysters, serving as a beacon of hope for those sailors wishing to return to safe havens of their own.
The sagas of the gems are much the same as the stories I have heard before, save for Sapphire's, which Tanymede themes much more like the struggles of someone who has an unkind Fate, rather than her usual strife of seeking to make Gaia and Pontus proud. She needn't have worried. We wear sapphires in the shape of teardrops to show that from our tears—Sapphire's tears—comes beauty.
Tanymede finishes with the last Beauty's story and bows. Everyone claps. She thanks the crowd, and comes to sit beside Sailor and I, sharing a stump with Vates.
Seftis quickly stands and adds another log to the fire. Conversations spring up around the circle in a wave of sound. James snorts, and snuggles closer.
"Ah the Beauties are a load of smudge," Tanymede says.
I whip my head around to face her. "What?"
Tanymede rolls her eyes. "Oh come now. 'The gem stones are eight beauties who sacrificed themselves to sow the seeds of hope'? I would bet twenty coin that a jewelry maker was having a tough year and so invented these stories to help sales." She folds her arms.
"Then why tell the story?" I ask.
Tanymede shrugs. "It makes them happy. There's too much darkness in this world."
Sailor fingers the ring in his pocket, but he doesn't withdraw it.
"Well that's kind of you," I say.
"And does it help boost my own sales if people are happy and wanting to buy merchandise related to the legend? Maybe." Tanymede winks at me.
It's my turn to roll my eyes.
"I think I'll tell the next story," Char says.
"Will i' take place around a Zemet table?" Bo asks. He tries to wink at me. It's more like a slow blink, but I smile back anyways.
Char's eyebrow wrinkles in thought. "Yes," he says slowly, "but not like you've hear before. There will be a healer, a Pontus speaker, a cardsmith. They will walk into tavern." A wicked grin spreads across Char's mouth. He stands and makes his way to the fire. The crowd grows quiet with anticipation.
Char's tale ends up being more cringe-inducing than Hove's all those years ago, but everyone around the fire is laughing. Fermented drinks are passed around at an increasing rate. Seftis joins Sailor, James, Tanymede, Vates, and I, and even the two women from before come to sit down nearby. Two young children go up to the one in the silk dress, and she kisses their foreheads and sends them off to bed, promising to join them soon.
Once Char is done and sitting back down, the Elf who knocked over the clothing rack in Tanymede's shop stands. Her story is about her journey across the sea, and I hope she's embellishing it because there are too many thousand-teeth sea serpents and blood-sucking leeches for me to ever get in a boat again.
After another two stories, I begin to yawn. Tanymede is leaning into Vates's side, her hand clutched firmly in his. He's staring ahead with those silver swirling eyes, but there's a hint of a smile to his lips. Char's shuffling the Zemet cards between his fingers, and Sailor has moved from his stool to curl up against James's stomach. Both of them are snoring softly.
I look around at all ofthem. Half a moon ago, I was cold and alone, pressed up against the stone wallof my cell. And now? Now, I'm sitting beside a campfire and swapping storieswith a group of people who might, just might, be my friends.