My face is on something soft, smooth, and the smell reminds me of the flowers that bloomed on the tree that grew outside my parents’ home. Big white clusters of tiny flowers that smelled sweet and feminine somehow. A hand strokes my hair and I hear crying.

I’m on Caedi’s lap.

I sit up fast and the street and town and all the people there go swimming around so that I almost fall over. Strong hands encased in steel catch me.

Wendy.

I clasp her to me, holding her hard. “I thought….”

“Yeah,” she says. “Me too. Shut up.” Her cheek is mashed into mine, wet from tears.

Caedi says, “You both nearly died. You’ll be tired and hungry for a while. Eat and rest. Wendy, you had one arrow in your heart and another in your lungs. Do not exert yourself.”

I hear her sniff. Finally, I look at her. She’s crying, her lips are quivering, and she’s so lovely.

I love her.

Dammit.

“You almost bled to death, Mark,” she says. “You especially will need to eat.”

How the fuck am I supposed to deal with this?

I hear a splash behind me. Deputy Swyft has just poured out a bucket of water on the walkway in front of the sheriff’s office. He sees me watching, gives me a nod and a grin, then reaches for a push broom. He starts scrubbing the boards, working to get rid of the lamp oil.

Manver Teeg, Heckwin Gorminiel, and twelve other corpses have been laid out on the green. So much death.

“I don’t remember us killing that many,” I say.

“Snipers,” grunts Yenna. She’s sitting on the walkway, her beautiful black curls glinting in the sunlight.

What the hell? I guess a near death experience so soon after an actual death experience gives me a new appreciation for beauty? Let’s go with that.

“Snipers?” I say. “You shot the ones that shot Wendy?”

“No.” Yenna shakes her head. “I shot one.” She points to a redheaded elf, dead on the ground. “That’s the other.”

Caedi says, “Apparently, we were supposed to get shot by all these hidden archers. Yenna killed most of them. We don’t know who got the others.”

“How’d they die?” I ask.

Wendy says, “Dagger wounds. All of them.”

“Remind me to buy Sinda Summerleaf dinner sometime,” I say.

Wendy snorts. “Yep. That was my thought.”

Yenna grunts. “Redheaded halfling?”

“Yep.”

Yenna nods.

"You saw her running around?" Wendy asks.

Yenna nods. “She’s quick.”

“How’d she get out without Gorminiel seeing?” I ask.

“I’d dearly love to know that myself.” Sheriff Cronk has walked over. He stares down at the bodies in the square. “Teeg put a sword to my neck and stuffed me and Grig in my own cell. After they left us alone to wait for you, Sinda pulled something out of her hair and picked the lock. She looked out the window, didn’t like what she saw, grabbed her daggers from out of my desk, and then vanished. Gone! Right in front of me.”

“A spell?” asks Wendy.

Cronk shakes his head. “Naw. No spellwork or anything wizardy. My guess is she’s got a magic item. A good one if we missed it when we took her in. We took her rings, even the one on her toe. A piercing maybe? We let her keep her earrings.” He shrugs. Sighs. “Office needs another exit. If there ever is a fire…. I’m gonna talk to the mayor and make him pay for a back door.”

“Sheriff Cronk!” comes a voice. Hunter has returned to Fort Reach. The tall, armored elf is on a big black horse leading a column of wagons. “What on Green has happened here?”

He goes over to explain, leaving me, Wendy, Caedi, and Yenna sitting in the scraggly grass of the square. I almost died right here.

The silence is awkward. At least it is for me. I need to talk to Wendy to tell her about her dad, her mom, and about Caedi. I need to do it right away. I do not need to do it right now. I want to and I don't, and I think the tension that’s causing can be felt by the others.

Yenna stands. “I’m going back to my tower,” she says.

“Yenna, no,” says Caedi. “Stay with us.”

Yenna shakes her head. She hesitates, like she’s about to say more, but doesn’t know quite what. Instead, she smiles. It’s a good smile. Soft somehow and kind. She nods and then she leaves.

Wendy has Caedi’s hand. “She’s not ready yet,” she tells our healer.

Caedi nods, crying again.

Wendy pulls her into a hug.

I want to hug her too but I don’t.

“That bow.” Hunter is walking over with the sheriff, watching the big ranger stride away. “That’s not Yenna of the Tower, is it?”

“It is,” I say.

“We owe her, and you a debt,” says Hunter.

“And Sinda Summerleaf too,” says Wendy.

Hunter raises an eyebrow. She looks at Cronk.

Cronk shrugs. “We’re pretty sure she helped. I guess she’s keeping a low profile right now. You know, like she does.”

“I’m familiar with her ways, yes,” says Hunter. “Very well, the Adventurer’s Guild will have to find some way to repay you. I—.”

“He had a boss,” I say.

“Excuse me?” says Hunter. She’s clearly not used to being interrupted.

“Gorminiel,” I say. “He wasn’t the one in charge of all this. In fact, he screwed it all up by getting greedy and hitting the caravans on the second leg down to Truhaven. If he hadn’t done that, we’d probably never know about any of this. It's all in the insurance records.”

“Who?”

“I have no idea," I say. "Not the first clue, but all that money must’ve gone somewhere.”

“We’ll look into it,” says Cronk.

“I don’t suppose one of those dead guys had a house?” says Wendy.

“I beg your pardon?” says Hunter.

“A house?” says Wendy. She stands and dusts herself off. Two red splotches surround two torn holes in her green gambeson. It makes me feel sick to see them. She gestures between herself and me. “Newlyweds,” she says. “We could use a house. The longhouse is not conducive to our, uh, desired lifestyle.”

Grig Swyft pauses in his scouring. “That redheaded elf back-shooting fuck right there had a nice little place just down from mine.” He nods at the dead man. “It’s not much but he lived alone. No family. As if anybody'd have the traitorous ass-licking bastard.”

Hunter looks at Cronk who shrugs.

“I’ll ask the mayor,” says Cronk. “And I’ll find two more uniforms for you two. Yours are torn to shit.”

 

 

The sheriff gives us the rest of the day off. Caedi, Wendy, and I slouch into The Purring Pot for some stew. I have two big bowls.

We don’t talk.

I’m tempted to try a couple of times, but I chicken out, telling myself that it isn’t the right time. As if there’s ever going to be a wonderful time to tell your new wife that her dad killed us and that, oh yeah, I’m in love with Caedi too.

If either of them feel awkward about anything, I can’t tell. Caedi must know. She would’ve gotten a notification telling her she’s got access to Erota, right? You can only get it if the one you love loves you back. I figure she’s biding her time, letting me play this however I think best.

How long has she been in love with me? 

Why me?

I’m so fucked.

That kid, Simmy, runs in, hands Wendy a slip of paper, and then scampers off.

Wendy doesn’t say anything. She’s chewing, but she winks and grins around her mouthful.

We walk into the residential district after. People are bustling around just like it’s any other day. Like we didn’t just have a big fucking fight in the town square and almost die. It pisses me off a little bit. It helps a little that many that we pass say hello, or give nods of approval, or pleasant smiles. One or two tell us, thank you. Whatever.

I’m tired and cranky and I can’t put off telling Wendy much longer.

A block and a half away from the cliff overlooking the lake is a small two-story house. It’s a square log cabin with four windows in each wall, a door, and a stoop. Randon Frent is outside supervising a bunch of men and women carrying things in and out of our new home.

Frent smiles when he sees us and hurries over. “My friends!” he says. “I hope you don’t mind. We’re taking Mr. Liliel’s personal effect and whatever is… unsuitable out and bringing some other, small things in, courtesy of the mayor and the town of Fort Reach.”

“Mr. Liliel?” Wendy asks.

“The former owner,” says Frent. “We’re putting his things in an orderly pile over there in case you’d like to keep any. We’ll leave them for anybody who wants it and be back tomorrow to clear anything unclaimed away. We’ve brought you a table, a bed, a couch, some chairs, food, stores, and various sundries that should last you a little while.”

“Thank you, Mr. Frent,” I say. “This is very kind of you.”

“You brought a murderer to justice,” says Frent. “Men who tried to kill me. Men who were fleecing this town and arranging for the deaths of caravan guards, my insurance agent, and Captain Gray. I should be thanking you. And so I am. Thank you.”

We stare morosely at the pile of Liliel’s personal effect there on the corner of our little lawn. The grass extends six feet from the house in all directions. How do they even cut grass here? Will I have to get a goat or something?

There’s nothing of his we want. Even if there was, I’m not sure I could take any of it.

Frent’s men are soon done and we go inside. The ground floor consists of a living area just inside the front door, a privy, and a kitchen and eating area in the back. The bedrooms must be upstairs. I’m given to understand there are three. A master and two smaller ones. Not bad for the Knights of Hyparien’s first headquarters. There's plenty of room for Caedi to move it. 

What a horrible idea. I'm out of my mind.

The two women sit on the couch.

I flop into a large, overstuffed chair, claiming it in the name of men everywhere, shamelessly embracing the male stereotype without hesitation. My chair. There’s an ottoman too, so I put my feet up.
I’m in danger of nodding right off if I don’t go ahead and get it over with, dammit.

“Wendy, I got to tell you something,” I say.

Wendy smiles. It’s so incongruous with what I’m about to tell her, so gentle, loving, and happy that I hesitate.

“It’s okay, Mark,” she says. “I already know.”

“She already told you?” I say. “When? When you were unconscious?”

"Unconscious?" Wendy sits up and blinks. “What?”

“Wait,” I say. “What are you talking about?”

“Who is she?” she says in a tone that brooks no argument or kidding around.

“Ulma,” I say. I shake my head. “Ms. Armstrong.”

“Her name's Ulma? When did you speak to her?”

“When I was out,” I say. “Unconscious. When I almost died.”

Wendy says, “Come here. I need you and you’re way over there. That was so scary.”

I sit on the other side of her so that Wendy’s between me and Caedi. The healer looks confused and concerned. She must know at least some of what I’m about to say.

Wendy clings to me. “You’re not allowed to do that anymore, okay?”

"What, die?" I say, “Okay, deal. You either though. I mean, you got shot first.”

“Caedi was right there,” says Wendy. “She wouldn’t let me go.”

“No, she wouldn’t.”

Caedi’s eyes are shining, her hands folded in her lap, her eyes flicking from mine to Wendy’s. She looks satisfied and proud.

I tell Wendy about her father. She does not take it well. She rages and cries. Breaks one of our new chairs. Caedi and I manage to get ahold of her and wrap her up. We stay that way, Caedi kneeling with us, weeping and sobbing with us, each of us rubbing each other’s backs, smoothing each other’s hair, squeezing and comforting.

I tell her that her mom’s okay and that she’s left her dad, that the cops are pretty sure they have enough to convict him, that he only meant to kill me and didn’t know she was in the car.

“Like that makes it okay,” she rages. “Like ruining my life through murder was going to what? Make us into a happier family? The man’s sick.”

“There’s something else too,” I say.

“No, there isn’t,” says Wendy.

“What?”

“If there’s one more thing today, I’m going to scream and scream and go dive off the cliff into the lake. I've had quite enough, thank you.”

“I have to tell you—.”

“No, you don’t. I refuse. Fuck that. Tell me tomorrow.”

“Wendy, I—.”

Caedi says, “I have two ranks of Erota now, Wendy. Two.” Tears are running down her face. She’s smiling somehow. Happy tears.

Wait. Two?

Wendy gasps. “Two! It happened! Already?”

“Two ranks?” I say. “How’d you…?”

Wendy hurls herself on me, kissing my face.

“I,” I say. “Am very confused.”

The women laugh at me.

“Remember that time we were hiding under a certain lovely healer’s dress while a horny halfling masturbated nearby?” says Wendy.

“Uh, yeah. Not gonna be forgetting that anytime soon.”

“Remember you thought something happened?”

“Yep.”

Wendy sighs and giggles. "Something did."

“Two ranks of Erota,” Caedi says to me. Slowly.

Which you can only get if the romantic love you feel for someone is returned and one of them is a Monk of the Open Heart order.

I look at Wendy, aghast. “You fell in love with Caedi staring up at her panties while Sinda—.”

“No!” says Wendy. “Well, yes! But it wasn’t her panties.”

Caedi giggles.

“It was a little bit her panties,” says Wendy. “No, it was how kind and patient she was with Sinda, I think.” She turns and cups Caedi’s face in her hand. “She’s beautiful and kind and saved our lives again and again. I saw her pain with the boy that was cursed, her love for that poor dog. And—. Hey! You fell for her too, dammit!”

“Yeah, when she was trying to save you!”

“I don’t think I could have without that second rank of Erota, Mark,” says Caedi. “We almost lost her. I almost lost you both.” She sobs.

Wendy lets go of me and tackles into Caedi, to hold her.

I almost follow. Almost.

“But what are we going to do?” I say.

“Do?” says Wendy. She turns away from Caedi to look at me, her expression confused.

“We’re married and both in love with someone else!” I say.

“We’re in love all together, you dufus.”

“I know!”

“No,” says Wendy. “All. Together. You. Dufus.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh.’”

“We can do that?” I say. My heart’s going like crazy. This is insane. It’s wonderful too. Yeah, I figure that the divorce rate in America is fifty percent for a reason. Two people involved, two people with a chance to screw it up, fifty-fifty, one of them or the other or both. With three? Does that give us a third of a chance? Worse?

“Sure, we can do that. What’s your Wisdom score, Mark?” asks Wendy.

“Four." I start to babble. "Monks traditionally have high Wisdom scores in Role Playing—.”

“Shut up,” says Wendy. “Caedi? What’s yours?”

“Five,” says Caedi.

“Mine’s a fucking two,” says Wendy. “I'm the weak link here. You’ll have to watch me. I’ll be the one to screw this up if anybody is.”

“Yes, dear.”

“Shut up, I said,” says Wendy. “Now, this has been a day. Thank you for the happy after all the sad, but my dad’s murdered us and I have to cry a lot more about that, so here’s what we’re going to do, okay? We’re going upstairs to that big bed that nice Mr. Frent brought us, we’re going to take off all our clothes, and we’re going to cuddle in a pile until we fall asleep. No funny business, perv. I’m not in the mood. I need closeness and intimate nudeness. Skin on skin on skin forever and ever, amen.”

“Okay, fine,” I say.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” says Wendy. “You don’t watch halflings diddle themselves in alleyways.”

“Yes, dear,” says Caedi.

And then we go upstairs.

 

 

 

 

End of Book I