TL;DR Dwyn Stories

[Elle]

Oh, there's going to be some jumping. I roll dice to decide some of this stuff. Turns out Kjell is not really going to be the author of his own fate.

[Elle]

Karin woke earlier than usual, dressed for church, and paused to take a closer look at her face in the mirror. She didn’t usually bother. Her face looked so worn and tired, and her hair was going gray more quickly than she had realized. Usually she tied back it in a tight bun, but today she decided to brush it out and fashion an elaborate braid.

How quickly the years had passed since they had first come to this city, with its unbearably hot weather and smelly, crowded streets! She had done what she needed to do here. She had accomplished her vengeance. It brought no joy but at least an odd sort of relief – she was free to mourn now without the suffocating, trapped sensation she had felt while the murderers were still alive. She tried not to share too much of her grief with Kjell, though she knew he suffered too. Luckily the Lodge was like family and had given him a way to make sense of an unfair, capricious fate. He was doing well here.

The same could not be said of Karin, though lately that’s just what people had been saying. She was “getting out more”, involving herself in things, and meeting more people. To her it all seemed pointless and cold. The Lodge community accepted the order of things and took the world, like the Elk Father, to be straightforwardly good. Karin wasn’t so sure – indeed, she was certain the cosmos was neutral and indifferent. Things didn’t always happen for a reason no matter how perfectly good and providential Erastil might be, and sometimes you had to balance the scales yourself. These weren't thoughts she could share with anyone, not even Father Fendus. All that bitter, cynical doubt had to be tamped down, and she had long since resolved to go through the motions of a quiet, invisible life for Kjell’s sake.

This morning finally felt different – as if the heavy shadow cast upon her days had lifted a bit at the edges. She hadn’t seriously considered leaving Magnimar even though they had spoken of it many times before. Kjell was completing his training and had true friends here. After a life spent in the frozen forests of the northwest, she felt it almost a penance to be trapped in the bustling, humid city – her punishment for remaining alive while others had passed on. She couldn’t bear to return home without them.

Last night a real alternative had come into view for the first time. Kjell had seemed reluctant to tell her about it, although she was certain the idea intrigued him too. She knew how he felt about Dwyn, and she wasn’t eager to see him settle down here with someone else out of some misplaced sense of duty or inevitability. Karin also knew something of Turtleback Ferry. It was even farther from their distant homeland than Magnimar, but was surrounded by forests and closer to the mountains. She had heard the winters were cold. Fendus already had told Kjell about Father Maelin Shreed, whose church of Erastil was in desperate need of assistance after a devastating flood and other events. It would be nice to live in a smaller town again, someplace where they were truly needed. Kjell could probably remain a Temple Archer here forever, but would that really suit a man with his unique gifts? He should be nearer to wilderness, where he could commune with the animals and carve out his own path in life. In Magnimar he would always be a follower, living out the same comfortable routine every day.

And what of her own gifts? Something tiny and long-forgotten stirred inside and she stared fiercely back into the mirror. Was she to remain here forever, doing other people’s mending and washing? Would they have wanted this life for her?

“Come on, Karin,” she muttered, “you’re going to be late!” Her step was brisk and sure as she made her way to the Park and found Kjell outside the Lodge. Most of the parishioners were already inside. Usually she sat with some older women who came alone, but today she waited until Kjell was finished with his duties and then drew him inside from the door. He wasn’t expecting this and had to put down his bow awkwardly.

Holding firmly onto her son’s hand, she looked around until she spied Dwyn sitting up tall in one of the pews on the left, next to another young woman and an older boy. Kjell was right – she really did look something like Karin’s own mother, stern expression and all. She was wearing those strange boiled-wool pants with a lovely blue sweater, and her hair was in an elaborate updo (thanks again to Kailianna).

Dwyn looked surprised to see Karin and started up to greet her, but Karin smiled and motioned for her to sit. At least a quarter of the congregation already had managed, in their naturally nosy way, to take notice of what was going on. Karin held out her hand to Dwyn, who paused for a moment to look at her and Kjell closely before taking the proffered hand. Then they all sat down together, with Karin in the middle holding both their hands. A low murmur of whispers rolled through the assembly, and Bekka actually jumped up and walked quickly down the aisle toward the stairs at the back of the hall. Rone suddenly left his post at the front and quietly followed her downstairs. An observer unfamiliar with the church of Erastil might have thought nothing of these events, but all those in attendance knew exactly what had happened. It was the talk not only of the rest of the day but the entire week, until Susannah Olstrom refused to invite her best friend Mirtya to her wedding and nobody had the faintest idea why.

[Elle]

After the service Dwyn said goodbye to her cousin Arika, who wanted to skip the afternoon’s excursion to the countryside. Pregnancy didn’t agree with her stomach very well and she needed rest before their trip to Sandpoint the next day. Karin and Kjell hugged Dwyn goodbye and went off to help get the lunch and wagons ready. The youth group wanted Ven to climb into their wagon but he politely declined; he wasn’t giving up a chance to ride on his own horse next to Dwyn.

She decided to take him the long way through Magnimar so he could see what remained of the old clocktower where they had fought the first lamia. Ven was suitably impressed. They stopped by the inn to talk with Kay and Anna about buying potions – Ven was suitably impressed by them, too - and then headed toward the city gates. By the time they arrived at the farm south of town, the picnic was well underway and some of the Archers were setting up targets at distant corners of the field.

Dwyn found Kjell and Karin and helped spread out their blanket while Ven pleaded to be allowed to race. Dwyn didn’t trust Ki Xa not to throw him and didn’t think much of Dothan’s latest rental horse. “She should’ve kept that donkey,” Dwyn thought to herself, but in the end she agreed to let Ven try. He turned out to be pretty decent at shooting on horseback, especially for his age.

Father Fendus pointed out the man he had promised to introduce to Dwyn. Roy was about fifty, with several grown children settled around Varisia. He and his crew had worked on a long list of construction projects both in and outside of Magnimar. Dwyn had been reluctant to search for an engineer without getting a recommendation, given the corruption that seemed to run rampant in the city – particularly in connection with the sawmills! Roy had no part in any of that, at least as far as Fendus knew, and he’d been showing up on the odd Sunday at the Lodge for years now.

“Are you sure you don’t mind leaving town for a whole month, or maybe even more?” Dwyn asked. Roy shook his head. “We go all over. Most of my crew, they’re not from the city anyway. I guess it depends how cold it is out East this time of year, whether they feel like staying on another month. Sandpoint’s no problem at all – I’ve been there many times.” Yes, he had been to Sandpoint Savories, though he diplomatically refused comment on whether it was in fact the best bakery he had ever tried, anywhere. He agreed to head to Sandpoint with his crew as early in the week as possible, and Dwyn paid him the first advance on the project.

Relieved to have that settled, she went back for another plate of food. Karin said she’d be heading home once the contests were over but wanted to see Kjell's race first. The runners would make laps around a figure eight while shooting targets at all four corners of the field. “You should stay for the bonfire,” she suggested. “I’ll ride back on one of the wagons.” Dwyn nodded. “Ven won’t want to miss the bonfire either. If I don’t see you again before we leave, be well. I wish I knew what was going to happen. I don’t know how long it takes to travel where we’re going or how long we’ll be there. Last time we were gone about a month but most of that was traveling and a wedding. If something bad happens to me, my friends will send a message here. So if you don’t hear anything, that’s good news.”

Karin smiled her usual mirthless smile. “Unless something bad happens to all of you, I suppose. But let’s not expect the worst. ‘Avoid being morose,’ as the Parables say.”

“We give thanks for His wisdom,” Dwyn replied. “You know, I was a little surprised this morning, in church, but I thank you for your faith in me. I hope you can meet my family someday. My dad passed away year before last. His family was from the northwest too.”

“He was Ulfen, yes?”

Dwyn nodded. “Not from as far north as you. I’m sure we still have cousins up there. The ones in Sandpoint are my mom’s family.”

“Chelaxians,” said Karin, looking up to see if the race was starting soon. “I would be delighted to meet them, and I hope soon, but none of us can predict the future. Well my dear, you’re a sensible girl and you don’t waste words or time, so I won’t either. You should know that if you and Kjell decide to marry, any daughter you have will be a witch.”

Dwyn gasped a little. “What? How… do you know something about me?”

Karin shrugged. “That’s just the way it is in my family. I had no daughters so I’m last in a very long line, for now. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, and I don’t do anything with it. I suppose I could if I wanted but I don’t. Sometimes things happen whether I want them to or not.”

“Oh,” said Dwyn. “I thought you were worried about my family. None of them are witches – at least, as far as I know - but some of them have… you know, like my friend Dothan. They like to sing, they love music, and they can do things with it. My mom especially – she can do some amazing things with singing.”

“Ah, that’s nice,” said Karin. “We all love music. Well, maybe you won’t decide to marry, or you’ll only have boys and it won’t matter. But I felt you should be forewarned just in case. No surprises.”

“Okay, no surprises. Is it okay with Father Fendus? With Erastil?”

Karin wasn’t sure. “I’ve gone to church my whole life, that’s all I can say. Fendus doesn’t know. I wouldn’t ask you to lie but I’d ask you not to tell on your own, and hopefully he’ll never think to ask. You never know how people will react and I didn’t want to cause any trouble for Kjell. I think that’s why I want to go East, to be honest - maybe I can start over there and things will be better. But these people are lovely – they took us in when we were desperate and had nothing. They know one bad thing about me but they haven’t judged us for it. Kjell is truly one of their own now.”

Dwyn nodded. “I think I know what you mean. Kjell told me about the Dome.”

“Well, they could forgive me for that, considering what happened, but I’m not sure how they’d feel if they knew me better. It’s a pretty straight-laced place. Not the city, of course – quite the opposite! Maybe that’s why they’re so traditional at the Lodge. It’s a little island in the midst of some real ugliness.”

“Yeah, I love it there. It’s the best thing about the city. That’s why I feel bad for even asking him to think about leaving. He should probably stay here.”

Karin shook her head. “No, I think he’s ready to leave – and I know I am. We talked about it for a long time last night. This place has been so good for him. They helped him find his way in life but now he needs a new challenge. And of course, I think he loves you.” She smiled sincerely. “It’s worth taking big chances for that, but even if you weren’t there, he needs to find his own path. And look – there they go!”

The race had started and they tried to spot Kjell in the pack of runners. He did very well – not the swiftest but definitely the most accurate shot. When it was over they said their goodbyes and helped Karin into the wagon with those who wanted to get home before dark. Kjell grabbed Dwyn’s hand and they ran back to their blanket. They didn’t have to be careful about being seen together like this now that his mother had given their union her official, public sanction. They could even be married if they wanted, except that Dwyn would never do such a thing before having Kjell meet her own family.

“I still can’t believe my mom did that,” Kjell mused. “I never expected it. She knows how I feel about you, though. We talked about it for a long time last night. I was really mad at first when I got home - I'll be honest. I was mad that you're leaving again, and worried about leaving here, and scared even to tell mom what you said about the Fort. I really can’t believe she wants to move to Turtleback Ferry, but she said she’d go out there whether you showed up at the Fort or not. Isn't that crazy? It will be so perfect when you do, though,” he added, kissing her again.

“So perfect!” Dwyn exclaimed. “Ever since I saw that little chapel at the Fort, I thought how great it would be if they had someone like you to run it. But Father Shreed probably needs you more right now.”

“I know. Fendus is worried about them since the last letter we got. They have a gambling problem up there or something.”

“Had one, I guess. Well, maybe they still do.”

“Either way, it would be a good place for me. There’s a lot I can do to help. We have to think about when to move. Maybe we’ll go up there with your builders when they’re done in Sandpoint. Maybe you’ll be back in time to go with us…”

Dwyn interrupted him. “Oh, please don’t talk about it. I really don’t want to think about it right now. I have to trust my friends on this thing and I just don’t know… I don’t like any of it. I wish I could take both of you to my mom’s and then stay in Sandpoint until we’re sure the town is safe. I don’t even want to go on this crazy mission but they all think it will be worse for Sandpoint if we don’t. Better to meet some giants out in the countryside, I guess, than let them get close to town.”

“Ok, I thought you didn’t want to talk about it,” Kjell said. “You know my opinion. I don't want you going into any danger, ever again! It drives me crazy - you can't even imagine how worried I was when we heard about the dragon. I feel like I should be there fighting with you, but I know that's not my job. And yeah, of course I'd want to go with you tomorrow, but I can’t leave mom here alone and we don't even know if Sandpoint will be safe.”

“I know. This may sound weird – I don’t mean this in a bad way, but you shouldn't come with me if there's any risk of giants. It’s too dangerous. I know you’re good at what you do but the things we’ve seen lately are really crazy. Illian’s been a fighter for years – he’s so fast you can barely even see his blades moving – and he came so close to dying out there. Seriously. I’m almost never scared, but this time…” She clung to him for a moment, embarrassed to be cowardly.

“It’s okay,” he said, “I don’t like it either. I don't like any of it, and I wish you didn’t have to go but I get what your friends are saying. They're probably right. I'm not sure I'd be much good in a fight against a dragon, myself! But it’s nice that you need me at least a little. I never felt like you needed me much. I mean, you can deal with way more stuff yourself than I could.”

“Yeah, that’s different. It’s just fighting - it comes naturally. But I'm never really sure what to think about things and I worry all the time. I struggle over what the best thing to do next is, and I really need you for that.”

Kjell hugged her closer. “Well, you have me for that any time you want, though I doubt you need it." He paused to examine her face for a moment. "You know, this is going to sound even weirder, but sometimes you remind me of Wallis. When you show up at the Lodge all excited about something, or when you look at me a certain way… you just remind me of Wallis.”

“Wait a minute,” Dwyn said, poking him hard in the chest. “Wasn’t Wallis your dog? You’re saying I remind you of your dog?”

“Yeah,” he said, “but Wallis was my favorite person in the world. We’d be out together and Wallis would look at me that way, like you always do, and he’d be all excited and he’d say stuff like, “there’s a squirrel! I see it! A squirrel! Come on, don’t you want to get it? Hurry, let’s go get it! And he’d wait for me to get out my bow, but the whole time he’s laughing about how slow and clumsy I am…”

“It’s so weird, I forget that you literally could talk to him!”

“Yeah, we talked all the time. He was so sweet, he was the best dog in the world. I don’t mean you’re like a dog, obviously!” he protested as her fingers stabbed him again, harder, “you look nothing like a dog! You’re beautiful! I just mean you have that same happy look he would get in his eyes, that excited look, when you’ve got a plan.”

“Oh really? Then what I am planning to do now?” she asked, grabbing one of his braids suddenly. At that point they were interrupted by Ven, who let them know the bonfire was going and they didn’t want to miss it. The fire was lovely on the crisp, late-autumn night, and the stars were bright in a cloudless sky. Kjell was amused to learn that Rone had personally brought Bekka out for the lunch but that they had gone back to the city together already. Dwyn was a little concerned – wasn’t this the same girl who had walked out of the service? He tried to explain. She was a nice girl – kind of like a little sister – who apparently liked him. He was sure Rone would be a capable distraction and was only surprised how eager he seemed to play the part, considering the things he said.

They stayed until the bonfire was put out, even though Dwyn felt guilty about letting Ven stay up so late without his parents around to ask. “It’s his last night here,” she reasoned, “he might as well enjoy it.” Eventually he was so tired that she put him on Ki Xa with her and had Kjell ride the other horse back.

The streets were quiet when they dropped off Ven at the Lodge. “Kjell’s going to bring that horse to the Inn for me,” she whispered. “I’ll be back to get you bright and early tomorrow.” Kjell figured she would’ve just led the other horse along on a rope, but he didn’t mind any excuse to accompany her. They put up the horses in the inn’s stable and he was about to head back on foot when she shushed him, though he hadn’t spoken. “Take off your boots and step when I step, you know?” she said, opening the door that led to the stairs. They crept upstairs, stepping in unison like one person, and slipped into her tiny room. Kjell felt a little wave of panic in his stomach and then found himself unable to form any coherent thoughts at all. He couldn’t quite believe any of this was really happening, all the way back to that first day he had met Dwyn and her horse outside the Lodge. “Hey,” she whispered, pulling him down onto the bed with her. “I think I saw a squirrel… let’s go get it!”

[Phoebe]

Sunday morning, Kuthona 6

Before the first light appeared at their camp outside Jorgenfist, Dwyn woke with a sudden start. She had been dreaming that Kjell sent a greeting. It had been two weeks since he had last seen her, he said. He hoped she and her friends were safe and well, had defeated the Giants, and were on their way back south. Upon waking, she realized this must be what it was like to be on the receiving end of a divinely inspired sending, like those she had witnessed Samadriel and Father Fendus perform. She knew immediately that what had seemed like a dream was in fact real, its fading images framed by the arcs of longbows fashioned from antlers, like those carried by the Lodge's white-robed priestesses.

For the first time since they had departed on their trip, she felt optimistic about the challenge before them. When they had first arrived to find the massing armies of the stone giants and other tribes arrayed around the spires of Jorgenfist, her spirits were very low. How could their little group ever make it out of this place alive, much less find and kill Mokmurian?

She felt the whole trip was a bad idea even though they were forced to try. Who else was going to get rid of Mokmurian? Growing up she had assumed Magnimar's armies were fearsome and immense - or so went the tales passed around the countryside. Even Sandpoint had seemed like a well-fortified and large town, though compared to Magnimar it had turned out to be rather small. Without their help, it seemed the town could not have defended itself against a small raiding party of giants, much less a dragon!

Thinking back, she should have known this was true a few months ago, when she had first used her trusty scythe as a weapon against the goblins who attacked the Swallowtail Festival. At the time, she figured she and her friends had accidentally landed amidst a fight the town guards and sheriff would have easily won, had they been present in the right place and right time. But now she realized Sandpoint never had been very well defended. Perhaps when her late cousin Cass had been the sheriff, things were different. Today, Dwyn and her friends were the only thing standing between the menacing armies of Jorgenfist and Sandpoint.

Samadriel and Anna were already awake - they often took the last watch. Sam rose early to greet the dawn in celebration of her Goddess, and Anna liked to get her sleep first, to be sure of having replenished herself as much as possible before any new threats appeared. While Sam was praying, Anna helped Dwyn don her thick, weighty armor. On top of the felted wool long johns she usually wore, she first had to pull another tightly woven layer with metal reinforcements at all the joints. These were magically enhanced and prevented blades or other pokey weapons from sliding between the plates. The suit of half-plate never looked as if it would fit, yet had been enchanted to mold smoothly to the wearer's form beneath. It didn't even need to be tied on, but someone had to hold each piece up while Dwyn moved into it, and the whole process took nearly five minutes. Dwyn wasn't very comfortable with that, especially out here in the homeland of the Stone Giants. Was their camp being spied on even now, while they conducted their surveillance? At least she wasn't entirely unprotected now without the armor, and the advantages far outweighed the inconvenience.

When Sam was finished, Dwyn sat down to share some breakfast with her and Anna and talk about best strategies for approaching the fortress. Dwyn thought they might be able to use some sort of illusion or magical disguise to walk straight in, but Sam convinced her that plan was far too risky. If anything went wrong? We'd all be slaughtered on the spot, no match for entire armies! Dwyn started to feel the waves of pessimism coming back, but then she thought about Kjell's message and was heartened.

"My friend from the Lodge, back in Magnimar," she explained to her friends, "sent a message this morning, like the ones you more powerful clerics can do. Everything is okay." Sam was about to volunteer her services again to make a reply, but they all quickly agreed that under the circumstances, nobody could afford to waste any energy or concentration on things that weren't essential to defeating Mokmurian.

"I know you would help me if you could," Dwyn assured Sam. "Usually I'm not scared when we do these things. I figure we'll give it our best shot, and we usually find a way to win. But this time I feel nervous. I don't know why. It's nice to know Kjell is thinking of me. If we make it out of here in one piece, maybe we'll even get married someday. His mom is okay with it. He has to meet my mom and grandma, though. If... if something does happen, you have to tell everyone back home. I know Kay and Dothan will take my things to my mother, and tell Alma and the girls. But don't forget Kjell - he's at the Lodge in Magnimar, at least for now."

* * *

The next days passed in a blur. There was no time to think - just survive. Listening for danger, fighting, willing their bodies to keep pushing through the caves and tunnels that led beneath the fortress.

Now at last Dwyn found herself face to face with the corpse of the most terrible giant. She could no longer think of him as terrible - not now that he was dead, and not after what his mother had said. To imagine they once had been another normal family serving the Earthshaker, providing for their people, untroubled by these foul ancient currents - it was almost too much to bear. Whatever Thassalionia had been, it now meant the total corruption of everything pure. The worst of all possible crimes - a parricide! A broken-hearted mother, willing to help sacrifice her own son rather than see him lost forever to the thrall of evil!

Dwyn couldn't stop a few tears from escaping her eyes as she leaned over the giant's body. In death his noble grace was somehow restored, as if whatever wicked voice had burst from him a few moments before had left behind an empty shell. Quickly she recited the prayer for the dead from the Parables, and folded his hands across his chest even as the blood was still leaking from his many wounds. Somehow she was surprised to see that his blood looked like any other - did she suppose, perhaps, that his flesh was actually made from stone in some degree, or that his blood would be gray like mortar? It was strange, too, to think that the rest of the giants under his command might now be liberated. They might never be friends, but could they at least not be enemies now? Or were those marked with that sinister symbol doomed forever to serve evil?

Her friends found a map that raised more questions than it answered. Yes, that X was undoubtedly right atop Sandpoint, but why were the other marked spots now under the sea? Had the coastline not always been where it is today? What did Mokmurian hope to find there, and would some other lieutenant now take up the cause in service of this mysterious evil?

Dwyn was exhausted from the long series of battles and didn't want to think about it any longer. She prayed silently to Erastil for having protected her, and then sat quietly while her friends searched for further clues. She was more than ready to get back home now but afraid more needed to be done before that could happen. What of the cave they had seen before - Eldthor had seemed sure the dragon they killed in Sandpoint couldn't have been its only inhabitant. If they didn't clean the place out, someone would step into Mokmurian's shoes and the whole southern lands would be in just as much danger. With a heavy sigh she considered it had been almost a week since Kjell's message. She probably wouldn't hear from him for another week or more, if he stuck to the same pattern. And of course none of her loved ones had heard from her - for almost three weeks now. They had worried when she traveled to Fort Rannick, and surely they would be worried again now. Dwyn consoled herself with the thought that Erastil must have wanted her for this task, since he had granted her the ability. A few months ago she wanted nothing more than a little adventure - something to take her away from the boring routines of life and give her a glimpse of what her late father's life must have been like, years ago. Now she was beginning to pine for an end to all this, a way to root out the source of all the troubles they had faced these past months, and some time to relax again and build a normal life. Or at least something closer to it.

One thing obviously stood in the way, she thought, staring at the sihedron symbol on the key they had found. All of these ancient ruins, all of the old demons from the dungeons of Thistletop to the depths of the Skull's Crossing, all of these wicked sorcerors trying to harness the unnatural magic of the long-dead past - they all needed to go. People needed to live the way they were intended to live: simply, in harmony with one another and with the wilderness around them. The ancient world was all about greed and lust and madness - no wonder its empires had fallen and vanished! Surely the good gods would not permit it to stand. Surely it was her job to prevent any of it from intruding into their world.

[Phoebe]

[Hope comments above about other characters (esp Anna and Sam) are accurate enough to be OK - if anyone ever wants to change stuff said about their character, I can do that gladly.]

[Bluedevyl]

I love reading these. Its great to see Anna show up in them. Take as much freedom with the character as you want

[Zen]

Always fun to read Dwyn's musings. Glad that Dothan and Kay are not having to bear sad tidings... (The likelihood that Kay survives something that kills Dwyn is pretty low!)

[Mike]

Good work. I'm jealous. I need to spend more time on TLDR stuff here.

[Phoebe]

Exactly, get even! More TL;DR Dothan!!!

[Phoebe]

Just putting this here so I remember where to find the Parables text so far:

[Phoebe]

Karin woke to find Kjell at her bedside. “What is it? What time is it?” she grumbled, seeing no sunlight at the window.

“Early,” he whispered. “I’ve just had another message from Dwyn. Everything is okay. In the first week of Abadius she should be back at Sandpoint, and she wants us to join her there.”

“Both of us?” Karin asked, rubbing her eyes.

“Yes. Then we’ll travel with her to meet her family. Go back to sleep, Mom, it’s just before dawn,” he added.
“No, it’s fine, I’ll get up,” she replied, yawning. “If we’re going to meet her family, I have things to prepare.”

* * *

Kuthona had not been Dwyn’s favorite month, and it was not much improved even after the triumph over Mokmurian, the dispersing of armies, and the death of terrible creatures in the tower. After spending weeks traveling and fighting side by side with her dearest friends, she nevertheless felt strangely distant from them.

Her poor mood worsened after witnessing Conna’s treatment of Mokmurian’s corpse. Her friends accepted it as a mere cultural difference – unpleasant, perhaps, but to be observed patiently and tolerated. Dwyn couldn’t wrap her mind around it. This family once had been together and happy, smiled upon by the Earthshaker and loyal in his service. The idea that things could go so badly wrong from that foundation was unfathomable.

What if she and Kjell had a son? What if evil powers seized and twisted him so badly that he killed his own father? Perhaps Dwyn would want to see him dead too, just as Conna had. Yet she could never imagine herself making a grim spectacle of her own child’s demise, waving his head above a crowd.

One thing was clear now: the sinister magic of ancient Thassilon was indeed responsible for the nightmare they had witnessed. The lure of its ancient runes had driven a whole people to the brink of ruin; what was to stop her friends from being infected somehow, while spending all day buried in rune-books? Maybe now that the library had lost one terrible master it would try to awaken another!

Dwyn was convinced of Anna’s goodness and kind nature, but was any wizard strong enough to resist the treacherous forces that once bent Mokmurian to evil? She and Dothan scarcely emerged from their huddle in that dank, depressing chamber – one couldn’t help but compare its circular outlines to the dark tomb in the black tower. Simply being down there, standing guard – or mostly, sitting and grumbling to herself – put Dwyn in a restless, foul humour.

Dothan seemed to grow more brilliant with every book she read, but she was as impulsive as she was a genius. Would she know how to use this knowledge wisely, protecting herself from whatever dark currents emerged? Would she finally locate the key to curing Illian?

Kuthona dragged on like this, through endless days of bookreading and homesick nights. At least Samadriel was doing Sendings, after the harpies were dispatched and everyone felt reasonably safe again. On the best day, Dwyn was able to check on her loved ones and warn Fort Rannick about the ogres. On the worst day, her friends found an old picture of some creepy, evil wizard who looked like Kjell. They insisted on showing her the book and wondering at the resemblance, which was horrid and added insult to the injury of not being able to see Kjell for weeks on end.

Dwyn had seen more than enough of Jorgenfist. She wanted to burn the whole place down - purify it with fire. That was the only way to be sure. She was a bit taken aback by how vigorously her friends argued against that common-sense plan. No one was willing to consider it, not even Hal or Sam, and of course it was anathema to Anna and Dothan, for whom these books were the greatest prize.

Luckily, Kay and Illian finally had grown wary of their sihedron medallions and were discussing what to do about them. The power to preserve corpses seemed a bit fishy to Dwyn – too unnatural, too kindred to forces that could raise things back from the dead. On the other hand, letting the dragon bodies decay would be wrong, when they were so valuable for protecting lives once put to the proper use. Hal and Thor had tried to explain these things but seemed a bit impatient with Dwyn’s stubbornness. She understood their reasons but still felt like smashing the medallions, just as she had once shattered the lamia’s sihedron.

Kuthona did not improve upon their arrival in Galduria. The townspeople were hanging decorations and singing paeans to Zon-Kuthon before the festival of Crystalhue, reminding Dwyn of her mother’s lovely songs and the rollicking party her family would be throwing at solstice-time. The winter chill, which she normally relished, stung harder far from home.

Seeing Ki-Ja again was the one great consolation. She rode him into the countryside late on Crystalhue’s Eve while her friends were celebrating. After praying, she realized how sullen and withdrawn she had become during their journey. Days on the road had passed without her saying more than a few words to Thor and Hal, who had been fairly subdued themselves after the triumph at Jorgenfist.

Dwyn fished around in her saddlebags, realizing anew the annoyance of being without one of those magical sacks Dothan and the others used. She wanted to carry everything herself, figuring that anything she couldn’t hold was pointless excess. Did the parables not say, “Coarse grains to eat, water to drink, my bended arm for a pillow. There lies happiness.”? They didn’t say to carry around giant sacks of loot. Yet to guard against all the harpies and mummies and lamias and rune giants and Erastil knew what else, they had to sell everything of value they could find. And even better, no one in Dwyn’s village would be going hungry this winter, now that she had this much treasure. The Deadeye Lodge in Magnimar would be able to feed everyone in the neighborhood for weeks.

Dwyn didn’t want to get attached to being wealthy, though. Nor did she want any children she might have someday to grow soft and contented, unable to fend for themselves after years of living easily. Finally she dug out the little cloth package she had been hunting for and gingerly unwrapped it, turning Ki-Ja toward the last fading sunlight so she could see better. This was the longest night of the year, sacred to Shelyn, her mother’s favorite. Ki-Ja stamped his hooves restlessly, melting away the traces of early snowfall.

From the cloth she drew forth a little silk-wrapped Zonzon doll, no bigger than her finger. It had long, dark hair, like Dwyn’s mother Isolde, and was dressed in bright blue and crimson garments. Carefully Dwyn stroked the woolly hair, giving thanks for her mother and praying for her protection. One by one she took out the other dolls, each resembling one of her sisters, and laid them across her palm. The one with white fuzzy hair was the first she had ever made – her grandmother. Last came the dolls for father and grandfather, both of whom were now passed over into Erastil’s care.

All bunched together in her hand they made a bright, cheerful little group. Dwyn remembered when they had first come down to farm near her mother’s old village. They had traveled down the Lampblack river from the mountains where her father had been working, just as she and her friends were doing now on the return from Jorgenfist. She realized that, if everything went according to plan, she would soon need two more dolls, for Kjell and Karin. And truly she needed another whole bag of dolls for each one of her friends. To them she owed not only her life, but the protection of her family and everyone else in this beautiful, green land that might have been destroyed by Mokmurian’s armies and dragons.

How quickly her life had transformed! Just last spring she had been milking cows behind the bakery, feeling like a newcomer to the vast, unfamiliar metropolis of Sandpoint. What a difference a few months and a whole lot of good friends could make! She needed them and they needed her, too. But they didn’t need morose, suspicious Dwyn; they needed an energetic, optimistic Dwyn.

She said a prayer to Shelyn for each of them and resolved to get her cheer back. After all, they had been victorious! She resisted the urge to add, for now. Yes, for now and at least until the next challenge. Erastil had called her to this path for a reason – she was more certain of it now than ever. She and her friends were needed to stop whatever evil was stirring from the dead past of Thassilon. If Erastil willed it, then surely they would prevail.

[Phoebe]

As they drew nearer to town, Dwyn was pleased to see a few little lookout posts set up among the trees at high points along the path, just as she had arranged before leaving Sandpoint. She wasn’t as excited about the elderly halfling she found staffing one of the posts, who seemed to be treating her watch shift as an excellent opportunity to knit baby blankets in the treetops. Hopefully she still would have noticed the ruckus of approaching giants, or dragons, or a forest fire, but Dwyn wasn’t sure.

“Have things been quiet in Sandpoint, then?” Dwyn inquired.

“Well, if you don’t count the dragon, and the giants, and the bears… mostly quiet ever since,” the woman replied.

“Great,” said Dwyn. “My friends and I tracked those giants down and they’ve all been sent away. Gone back home, or wherever they came from before. Turns out they had a really bad leader but he’s dead now. No more dragons – at least, none that we know of.”

“That’s a relief,” said the woman, without looking up from her knitting again. “Oh, I suppose we’ve had a few incidents, like that guardsman from the east bank who went down in the hole and never came out. But who knows what really happened – some say he ran away because his parents wouldn’t let him run the farm.”

Dwyn frowned. “The hole?”

“Oh yes, there’s a hole – you can go see for yourself. But as I’m not going down it, I don’t much care for it either way.”

Dwyn bid her good day and climbed back down again. “Well, sounds like things have been quiet,” she reported to her friends. “She said something about a hole, but who knows what that means.” Dwyn shrugged and jumped back on Ki Ja, hoping that Kjell and Karin would have made the journey up from Magnimar by now. They rode on as quickly as they could urge the horses.

[Phoebe]

Karin and Kjell arrived in Sandpoint after spending one night camping along the road from Magnimar. The unusually cold morning suited them both well. “It’s like going home again,” Kjell remarked. “Just think how great it will be to see snow again, to have a long season of snows!” Karin smiled – she had been smiling more often since they finally determined to move east.

Luckily the little bakery was easy to find and, with its warm ovens and comforting scents, offered a pleasant respite for travelers. Alma greeted them as if they were already family. They could stay in Dwyn’s room as long as they liked – she had been gone for so long this time, over a month already! But Kjell had done a sending and knew the Troubleshooters were on the way home.

Arika’s baby had arrived while Dwyn was away and few others subjects could occupy Alma’s thoughts for long. She did, however, introduce them to Pennae Kesk, who was delighted to hear everything Kjell had to say about life among the archers of the Deadeye Lodge where her son Ven was now starting an apprenticeship, just as Kjell once had. She was also delighted to find in Kjell a newly-engaged young man in need of wedding rings, and she kept him for hours in her shop until they had found the right ones: matching golden rings in the same size, each with a feather pattern outside and inscription inside: “love makes the heart light”.

“They’re magical, of course,” Pennae explained. “If the wearer falls, the ring helps to cushion the blow. Perfectly suited for a married couple, don’t you think?” Kjell nodded, relieved to be done with the search and thereby spared ever having to visit a jewelry shop again. “I hope she likes it. Dwyn isn’t really one for jewelry and fancy things.”

Pennae gasped in mock horror. “There is always time, my dear! Marriage means many years of gifts, and what lady doesn’t like a bit of sparkle? I’m sure you’ll find our prices in Sandpoint beat whatever you’ve been seeing in the big city. You might even be surprised about Dwyn. Why, just a few months ago she was in here buying necklaces. I can’t speak to her taste per se – if I remember correctly, one was a donkey pendant and another was a beetle, the type of necklaces we would usually expect to sell for children’s birthdays and such, but to each her own!” Kjell thanked her for the rings but silently vowed it would be his last jewelry purchase.

[Phoebe]

Karin was the first to see Dwyn arrive, as she was sitting outside with her knitting when the small party rode up. “Karin!” Dwyn cried, leaping down from Ki Xa and grabbing the smaller woman in a bear hug. “It’s so great to see you - it feels like we’ve been gone forever! Have you been here long?”

Karin shook her head, feeling a little overwhelmed by Dwyn’s usual enthusiasm. “No, no, we’ve only been here two nights,” she replied. “Kjell has taken the cow out, I’m not sure where. But he should be back for lunch any time now. He’ll be so happy to see you, my dear!” Dwyn was overjoyed to see Alma and the girls again, especially after feeling so lonely during the holidays, and she was even more delighted to meet her new baby cousin. The comfort of being with family again helped to erase the horror she had felt at Jorgenfist, though the vision of a once-proud Giantess holding her son’s severed head aloft before the crowd still lingered in her nightmares.

As soon as Kjell returned they began planning the trip to her mother’s place, and soon enough a wagon and horses were headed east through the countryside. The greens of the wide valleys had by now turned to golds and ochres dotted with light snow. Dothan travelled with them as far as the farm but couldn’t stay long, as she had her own family to visit down the road.

If any band of travelers had ever before been greeted with such fanfare and excitement, certainly Karin and Kjell had never seen the like of it. The presence, in the flesh, of Dwyn’s fiancé was treated as a nearly miraculous event, and Karin had to scold herself for suspecting the faint whiff of disrespect for Dwyn in her sisters’ excessive amazement. The meals that day were prodigious; the pies alone would have been enough for a party three times the size.

Isolde and her daughters were, of course, even more enraptured by Dothan than before: by this time Dothan’s fame had spread widely, and everyone was thrilled to have already befriended such a superstar. So many new songs needed exchanging, and so many dances needed to be devised for the songs! Kjell was not one for dancing and though Karin had a light foot, she wasn’t inclined to show it off amidst a newly-met crowd of strangers, even if they would become family someday. Luckily Dwyn was content to sit with her and avoid dancing, though a terribly red-faced Kjell was made to attempt it with each of her sisters and even with the grandmother. Karin was sure she had never seen the like before, except perhaps at an actual wedding. Imagine the wedding they could expect from this family, if these were the festivities on a normal Wealday with a few guests!

Under the circumstances, Karin and Kjell were a bit relieved to be staying with Father Gerthin. He insisted on leaving the merriment of the party well before sundown, which these days arrived not long after supper. “Early to bed, early to rise!” he declared, in his usual gruff tone, and Karin noted that Isolde did not seem particularly displeased to be sending her future son-in-law and his mother off for the night, though she smiled apologetically and expressed her great hope for the day the newlyweds could stay there together.

Gerthin’s cabin was tiny but snug, and he was blessedly uninterested in idle conversation. To be sure, it was a bit trying to have one’s soundest sleep disrupted by a loud shout of, “Leave your bed behind you instantly!” as soon as the first rays of sun emerged, but Kjell was already awake and seemed amused by the old priest’s penchant for quoting the Parables. The two of them had planned to go out hunting, leaving Karin some much-needed time alone. She filled Gerthin’s one cooking-pot with water and set it over the fire to boil.

She was glad to have left Magnimar and her heart and even her body felt indescribably lighter. At last the timing had been right. Sandpoint was a lovely town and she had wondered if it might not be a mistake to press on further, rather than remaining there, but the coastal weather was still muggy and warm and she longed to be back in the forests and mountains. Turtleback Ferry would be sufficiently remote and from Dwyn’s account the town was desperately in need of newcomers, people who had something to offer as they tried to rebuild after the floods and, perhaps more importantly, the corruption that had infected the community until Dwyn and her friends had stepped in. Would she have anything valuable to offer, and would these new people accept her?

For Kjell she had great confidence: an archer of his skill and cleric with his compassion would be embraced almost anywhere. But people tended to fear the true talents Karin possessed, while her more mundane skills as a seamstress or cook were copper-a-dozen. Perhaps at least they would tolerate her presence along with her son, and someday soon the new couple, perhaps helping to take care of a new baby? She poured out the water for tea and stared into the cup, watching the color deepen. Grandchildren. The thought alone prompted tears for the sake of her husband and son, who would never be grandfather and uncle as they should have been. Yet the prospect gave hope that their little family would live on, that beyond their senseless deaths some form of purpose might yet be found.

With a deep breath, Karin blew on the tea and drank, her green eyes glowing with sudden intensity. As the leaves settled back down in the cup, she saw a swirl of pattern and held it up to the window’s light to get a better look. She could see herself in a rustic chapel in a tall stone tower. She was… happy? Maybe. But there were obstacles. A woman… menacing, untrustworthy. A man – no, two men – lonely and heartbroken. But neither of them Kjell, she observed with relief. He was with her; he was happy. Yet Dwyn was missing. Where was she? Somewhere… else, trapped, miserable, yet even more powerful than before, and safe. Grandchildren? Maybe. Impossible to tell.

[Phoebe]

Wealday was a perfect happiness. Dwyn couldn’t stop hugging her granny and sisters, especially Annwyl who had grown so much and yet still seemed so tiny. Being home was even better than she had imagined from the depths of the circular library at Jorgenfist, and this time she could share it with Kjell and his mother. She was so proud of him when he was introduced to her mother for the first time – the perfect gentleman! Granted, he had been at a bit of a loss for words, but she was sure her mother would absolutely love him and would someday be the best of friends with Karin too. She had known, of course, that Kjell would be fawned over, stuffed with food, scrutinized from every angle by everyone in the household, and then made to dance. She was only surprised that he hadn’t been made to sing as well, but between her mother and Dothan there was no room left for other singers. Now that Dothan was leaving to visit her own family, all bets were off.

The next morning she went for a long walk with Lowri, who kept steering them in the direction of Gerthin’s cabin until finally Dwyn gave up and just asked her, “Do you want to stop by and say hello?” Yes, Lowri certainly did, but they found only Karin at home, wrapped in a huge shawl and looking a bit melancholy. The men had gone out hunting and she didn’t know when they would return. Dwyn suggested that she walk back to the farm with them but Karin declined – it was her only chance to get more sleep before Gerthin came back.

Once they were out of earshot again, Lowri sighed heavily. “I will never find a husband like Kjell in this miserable place. Every boy here is terrible, the absolute worst! Kjell is so nice. He’s kind of cute, and he’s so shy and quiet, and he’s as tall as you but not too tall, and he has nice braids, and he’s a great hunter, and he…” Dwyn did not disagree but couldn’t help rolling her eyes. “Uhhhh, Lowri, why do you need a husband anyway? You’re 14! And don’t you want to do something else besides getting married.”

“Of course! But even you’re getting married now, so what’s wrong with getting married?”

“Nothing,” Dwyn said, momentarily puzzled. “But I’ve been doing all these other things, and it’s not like I’m going to stop just so I can get married.”

“What? You mean, you’re not staying here now until you two are married?”

“No way, we’re only here for a week, and then Kjell is moving to Turtleback Ferry and I’m going on another mission with my friends,” Dwyn replied.

Lowri gasped. “You’re kidding! Oh by Shelyn herself, do not tell mom or grandma that, or at least not when I’m around. I’m sure they’re already trying to plan a wedding, wondering what they’re going to do for flowers in the middle of winter. And why would you want to leave your fiancé again when you’ve been gone so long already? Aren’t you going to miss him? What’s he supposed to do while you’re gone, and what if you get hurt? What if he’s waiting around again for weeks and then you get hurt, or even die? Dwyn, no! No. You’ve got to stay here, you can’t leave again so soon.”

Dwyn shrugged, long accustomed to being peppered with questions she wasn’t prepared to answer. “I’m sorry, I have to do it,” she said flatly. “It’s that or let all the people here be overrun by evil giants and monsters and Erastil only knows what. I don’t think you get how risky it is right now.”

“That’s because nothing is wrong here. Yeah, we heard about the dragon that was in Sandpoint, but that was in the city. Nothing is happening out here, we’re totally safe.”

“I wish that were true,” Dwyn sighed. “It’s not like I want to leave. Of course I want to stay here with all of you, and with Kjell, but you gotta trust me. This is big. Maybe all of the bad stuff is somewhere to the north, but my friends and I, we have to do what we can to stop it from coming here. That’s the point: I want you all to stay safe here.”

Lowri looked dubious. “You don’t even know how worried Mom and Grandma have been. For weeks we didn’t even hear from you, and Alma had no idea where you were either. You know… you know Mom is always thinking that whatever happened to Dad, well… she’s worried. If you keep getting mixed up in these fights, and looking for trouble instead of keeping away from it… she’s afraid the same thing is going to happen to you.” Lowri stopped walking and put her hands over her eyes.

Dwyn stopped and put her arm around her sister. “Oh, come on, don’t cry about it!” she exclaimed. “I’m fine, and we’ve never met “trouble” we couldn’t handle. We have a wizard in our group, and you can’t even imagine how powerful she is! Fire just shoots out of her hands, like… zap!” she explained, gesturing. “And we have a healer who can practically pull people out of the grave, she’s so good. And Lowri… I don’t even want to talk about this, I don’t want to think about it, but you know that whatever happened to Dad happened while he was here, on the farm.”

“But it was because of what he… ”, Lowri began.

“No. It was here, because someone found him here when he was alone and vulnerable,” Dwyn said firmly. “When I go, I go with my friends and we’re strong together. You have nothing to worry about. Mom shouldn’t be worrying either and getting you all upset.” Lowri nodded and dried her eyes, but they walked the rest of the way to the house in silence.

[Phoebe]

“…I know that. And I’m not saying the two of them, together, are a bad match. I’m saying he’s … well, simple.”

“Oh Nimue, he can’t possibly be simple. He’s a cleric, and a well-educated one at that. He's lived for years in the city!”

“Not all city people or clerics are smart, Granny. Don’t you remember Brother Priebus who stayed with Gerthin two summers ago?”

“He was not… sophisticated in book learning, no, but he was excellent in agriculture.”

“He was an idiot who somehow helped vegetables grow by laying next to them, Granny. Just laying there, on the ground! That’s what he could do.”

“Okay, Kjell is nothing like that poor boy and you know it. He’s perfectly smart, he just isn’t in the habit of conversing a lot the way we are. This is all new to him and may even be a little scary. You ought to have some compassion and be happy for your sister. I’m sure we were all just as surprised to find out she had a boyfriend, after all this time, and now he has turned out to be a very sweet boy! Truly, I know a nice man when I see one, and I’m certain he’s a nice man. And he’s her fiancé! He’s going to be your brother soon enough, so you had better treat him as one.”

“We know, mother, you don’t have to lecture her,” said Isolde slowly. “She's looking out for Dwyn's best interests. Conversation isn’t everything, no, but it’s nice to be a little more forthcoming, especially with your new family. One doesn’t like to be … taciturn, and certainly his mother is no different. Yes, he’ll be our new son, but I’ll be his new mother, and I can’t say he seemed very enthusiastic about the prospect, at least if the way he speaks is any guide.”

Dwyn felt all the blood draining out of her cheeks when she heard her mother’s voice, but she turned away from the kitchen and crept silently upstairs before anyone could hear her. “Those who allow the words of others to disrupt them have given their minds away,” she repeated to herself.

[Tahlvin]

Bejeebus, how much time do you think we have to read this stuff?! JK, I love your stories. I just may not get around to reading this until I'm on a plane Sunday and am trapped with little else to do.

[Phoebe]

They had been walking a long time in silence along an expanse of marshland when Father Gerthin suddenly called out, “Hullo, John!” He waved to someone crouched on a slab of rock behind a large, diamond-shaped canvas. The man turned around to wave and a spotted brown dog ran out to meet them, tail wagging furiously. “Nice blind you have there,” said Kjell, walking over to shake hands. “Blends right in. I’m Kjell. Honored to meet you.” Gerthin had told him John was an old friend of Dwyn’s father Anyon, and Dwyn had told Kjell the outlines of her father’s tragic story.

“Beautiful morning for us, lots of birds today,” said John, smiling. He surveyed Kjell’s longbow with a sharp eye and nodded.

“Kjell’s been at the Deadeye Lodge with Fendus a few years now,” offered Gerthin.

John nodded again. “One of the finest places, long as I’ve been born and longer still. Only seen it once myself, though.”

“May it endure forever,” added Kjell. “They were family to me there.”

Gerthin smiled but then rasped, in his usual fashion, “Nothing lasts forever but the sky!”

“When the wind blows, the grass bends,” replied John.

Kjell felt obliged to chime in with his own verse but came up with nothing. Before he could puzzle it out Gerthin motioned him in behind the blind, where a row of little holes was waiting for his arrow tip. They sat on the cold rock in silence for what felt like an eternity before spotting the first geese. Gerthin occasionally had to adjust his position, with a slight groaning and crackling of joints, but John remained nearly motionless, poised to pull back an arrow at any moment.

Kjell proved himself on his first shot, dropping the bird cleanly, with John swiftly following suit. Gerthin turned out to be worthless with a bow, so much so that Kjell raised a quizzical eyebrow at John after watching several wild misses. “Well then, let’s see what we’ve got there,” the old priest announced, leaping up and crunching his way across the freshly fallen snow after the dog. “He’s still the very best in the garden,” whispered John, rising to his feet. “And I still have ears!” shouted Gerthin.

After a few hours they had taken some geese, a few brace of pheasant, and one enormous rabbit. Kjell was positively buoyant. To be out shooting in the crisp wintry air, as far from the city as he’d been in years, restored his spirits and renewed his conviction that the move east was the right decision. He had refrained thus far from communicating with any creatures that day – it seemed an unsporting way of luring fowl – but he couldn’t resist congratulating the dog. Buddy was no Wallis but was nevertheless delighted to hear, in his own language for a change, what an excellent hunting companion he had been.

Gerthin fixed a suspicious eye on Kjell while he and the dog whined and chirped at each other. “I suppose you’ll be raising the Question with her today, then?” he asked. Kjell nodded. “I guess so. We’re all expected for dinner.”

“You too, John,” Gerthin added. “Especially if you bring these birds! Kjell needs all the help he can get!”

“Oh, those birds will take these birds,” John said with a grin, “but whether they’ll be happy with him is another question.”

Gerthin burst into loud guffaws, which Kjell found most unsettling. “Remember, son, “Each bird is a hunter in its own way.” That bird may sing like a canary but you’ll find she’s more like a raven.”

“Do you mean… Dwyn’s mother?” Kjell asked, confused. “She was nice when I met her yesterday,” he added tentatively. “And her grandmother was even nicer – she’s really a sweet lady!”

John and Gerthin laughed even louder, until Gerthin chortled, “The bear! The hunter fears the bear's kindness”, son, remember, he fears it!” and Kjell decided it was best to let the discussion trail off naturally from there.

[Phoebe]

Everyone but Annwyl was positioned around the sitting room when Karin, Kjell, and John arrived. Karin smoothed her braid nervously and took the empty seat near the fireplace. “No Father Gerthin today?” Isolde inquired politely. “No, I’m afraid they wore him out earlier, tramping around the countryside,” Karin said. “He was already in bed with a bowl of pea soup when we left.”

“Good, then you can stay as late as you please!” exclaimed Dwyn. “Who’s playing first? Are we having music tonight?”

“I thought we would wait until after supper,” Isolde smiled. “Plenty of time for that later. So, Kjell, why don’t you tell us more about where you’re from. Before you were in Magnimar, I mean. What was your home like?”

“Well,” said Kjell slowly, turning a brighter shade of pink and shifting uncomfortably on the small chair, “it was really nice there, in the forest. We lived near a big river.”

“How very interesting,” said Nimue, leaning forward. “What did you do there, in the forest, by the river?”

“Well, the logs went down the river to port.”

“What difficult work that must have been,” said her grandmother Tian, glancing at Karin. “Did… both of you cut logs all day?”

“No,” replied Karin.

The ensuing silence was broken by Dwyn, who eagerly informed everyone that Kjell used to have a dog back in those days, an especially large and good one, and they ought to consider having a dog around here again too. “Dwyn, you know we have a cat,” protested Isolde, “and you know she doesn’t like dogs.” Dwyn frowned. She wasn’t particularly fond of her mother’s cat. As cats went, even the stray mousers who took refuge in the barn were better than that spoiled white furball. “Okay, fine, but tell them about your dog,” she said, jerking her head toward Kjell to prod him.

“Oh, our dog was the best ever!” said Kjell. “Wallis. Best dog anyone could have. We used to go on long walks and talk for hours. Wallis was my best friend.” After a pause and a hopeful glance at John he added, “And John had his dog Buddy with us today too. Another great dog.”

“Yep,” said John. “Buddy’s a good boy. Always a soft mouth with the birds.”

The room fell silent again, though Annwyl could be heard giggling somewhere beyond the hall. Finally Tian stood up. “Supper should be ready – I’ll go and check on the rolls. Why don’t we all go sit down now?” After a swift transfer of chairs, John was seated to Isolde’s right, followed by Karin, Kjell, and Merri’s new husband. Dwyn sat at the end of the table, while her four sisters and granny lined up on the other side, the better to have a look at Kjell and the other visitors.

“Thank you again for those wonderful pheasants,” Isolde said, mostly to John. “You must have been freezing out there this morning. That north wind reminds me of our days in the Kodars, remember, Dwyn?”

Dwyn always looked back upon their time in the mountains with fondness. “Oh yes, I loved it there. Hope I can go back someday. Actually, I was pretty far north this past month,” she said. “Not a very good subject to talk about, what we were doing there, but I really missed you all on Crystalhue. It’s so good to be home again!”

Karin smiled. “Oh, you celebrate Crystalhue here too? I’m glad to hear it! Back home up north, that was always one of the best holidays.”

“Oh indeed!” exclaimed Isolde. “This year we had the most elaborate display of prisms and crystals ever – the entire south wall over there was filled, the girls dyed their hair the full rainbow of colors, and Merri composed a whole new sonata for her flute, and then we all sang. It was the most delicate, shimmering veil of sound, like a sheen of ice on the window - we can recreate it for you later, can’t we girls? I suppose it’s not the same in Magnimar, where a little ocean breeze is enough to make everyone shiver. You have to get out in the country to really appreciate the atmosphere of the holiday.”

“You speak the truth,” said Karin, smiling more broadly. “Solstice isn’t the same without a real winter.” She was able to relax a bit more as Dwyn brought in the platters to pass around the table.

“Kjell, would you do us the honor?” asked Isolde.

“Of course,” he said, bowing his head solemnly. “Oh Elk Father, bless this meal and the hands that prepared it. We give thanks for your guidance in the field today, and for the many geese and pheasants, and let’s not forget that enormous rabbit, all of whose lives were cut short that we might live and thrive. We praise you for this turkey, and for the potatoes, and this… broccoli, and these rolls, and this…” He paused to survey his plate again. “And this casserole, and all the wonderful casseroles,” he concluded with conviction.

“What a lovely blessing,” Nimue declared with equal conviction, and once again Karin felt uneasy.

After everyone was able to make progress on the meal, Isolde turned back to Kjell. “Now that we’ve heard a bit about your life in the forest, why don’t you tell us about your time in the Deadeye Lodge? It must be very exciting to be one of the famous Archers!”

Kjell had just delivered an enormous forkful of potato and struggled to choke it down. “No… not so exciting,” he gulped. “Mainly we walked around the street. This food is delicious, by the way.”

Karin glanced around the table nervously and nudged her son with an elbow. “Don’t be shy, you did a lot of important work there. He really did. They all did. The whole district depends on them.”

Kjell flushed pink again. “It was our job to keep the Park safe – you know the Park? Oh, well, it’s a very large park in the Keystone district, maybe the biggest park in the city. It gives people a feeling of not being in the city at all. They can walk among the trees. But a place like that attracts an unsavory element, if you know what I mean.” He added in a low whisper, “Wasps. People like that.” The girls exchanged puzzled glances. “It was our job to keep them out, escort people, you know, things like that.”

“Yeah, and you were doing a great job of it until that night when I had to jump in,” Dwyn laughed. “Remember that? You were so surprised. I’ll never forget the look on your face!”

“Yeah, you scared those guys pretty good,” Kjell agreed, somewhat sheepishly.

“So my daughter had to help you, I mean, you and the Deadeye Lodge’s famous Archers, clear the park of “unsavory” characters?”

Kjell nodded. “Yeah, she barely even had to try. She can be downright terrifying when she wants to be. I mean in a good way – you’ve seen her armor, so you know. Terrifying! And with that hammer and all the other stuff? Oh yeah.”

Isolde nodded primly. “Yes, I’m sure Dwyn is very accomplished in her new line of work. I suppose that’s why you liked her, at first? Her being so terrifying, in the good way?”

Kjell pondered for a moment. “Not so much the terrifying part, no. It was more like, she just showed up one day at church, with Ki Xa. You know, the horse? He’s out there right now in your barn. He’s a great horse. I really enjoy talking with him. I think she liked that about me, it kind of got her on my side.” He grinned bashfully at Dwyn, who grinned back while the others stared at Kjell.

“Yep, I didn’t trust this guy at all, not even a little, but when I found out he liked to talk to Ki Xa, well, my whole feeling about it changed. Obviously! And then I found out, he can really put away a turkey leg!”

All of the younger girls burst out laughing at this point, as Kjell blushed a deeper shade. “So Dwyn showed up at church,” Isolde continued, “and…”

“Yeah, there she was, right there out of nowhere!” Kjell said. “I kept running into her when I least expected. It was almost weird, you know?”

“That’s how I am,” Dwyn added, “always popping up when nobody expects it!” Everyone laughed except Karin, who smiled politely and laid her knife and fork across the plate.

“Well, Kjell, that’s quite a tale of romance,” said Isolde in a sing-songy tone that rubbed Karin the wrong way. “I’m glad you like my daughter too, but we would rather hear more about you.” She ran her finger around the edge of her copper drinking mug, producing a little note that hung in the air for a moment. Then she waved her hand - rather too dramatically, in Karin’s opinion - in Kjell’s direction. He stammered for a moment and then said, almost apologetically, “Mom and I have been alone for a long time now. Just the two of us.” Isolde frowned, as if that wasn’t the answer she had been looking for, and Karin suddenly felt a shiver of real discomfort. What had just happened, and why was this woman looking at Kjell so suspiciously? Karin slipped her hand into her skirt pocket and nervously rubbed the few coppers she found there.

Nimue sighed dramatically and her grandmother shot her a warning look. “We’ve already heard that part, yes. But what about the rest of your family? What did they do? What kind of people were they? Don’t you have anything else to tell us about them?” Dwyn glanced anxiously at Kjell and Karin, wishing her family would stop prying into this particular area. They obviously weren't ready to talk about what they had been through or they would have said something already. Nimue rolled her eyes slightly and picked up her cup, but before she could drink she began sputtering. “Can’t go to bed before playing violin! Oh, sorry! What am I say- s- singing? I sing, plates and violin dancing, dance, and broccoli dancing!” Her little sisters collapsed in giggles as Nimue jumped up, horrified, and ran straight for the stairs. Both Isolde and Dwyn looked alarmed and Karin stared down at the plate, her green eyes flashing in distress, apparently wishing she could sink into the floor.

Isolde rose stiffly from the table. “Pardon the interruption, everyone, I think we’re done here. I had better go check on her, she’s obviously not feeling well. Please clear your own plates when you’re done. You can make a pile over there and put the silver in the tray. Girls, help our guests, please.” Looking bewildered, Kjell followed Dwyn to the kitchen and handed over his plate and cup to Lowri.

“I was hoping to talk to your mom after dinner,” Kjell whispered to Dwyn. “You know, just her and me.”

“Oh, the Question? Really? Oh wow, you were going to do it now?” she asked.

“Yes! I mean, we’re finally here and I wanted to get it over with. But maybe now isn’t the time.”

“No,” Dwyn agreed. “Maybe now isn’t the time. I wish they would stop quizzing you, especially about... things. People don't always want to talk about their personal business.” More loudly, she added, “I need to go check on the horses. Kjell, can you help me? There’s a lot to carry.” They slipped out the kitchen door, leaving Karin, John and Tian alone at the table. “Oh, these young people,” Dwyn’s grandma said, as if that explained everything, and John nodded sagely.

[Phoebe]