“What does it mean that our fortunes are the same, Auntie?” Chicken asked.

The old kobold had seemed deep in thought for the time Penelope and Chicken studied their tea leaves. When the silence grew too much, he reached out to touch her. Auntie’s eyes opened slowly and her eyes rolled down, the pupils orbiting to focus on him.

“Auntie, were you sleeping?”

“Don’t be foolish,” she replied, blinking several times. “I was communing with the spirits. What was the original question?”

“We were talking about why my and Penelope’s tea leaves look the same.”

“Yes, I thought it was something like that. You and Penelope here simply have similar fates.”

Chicken scratched his head, making a rasping sound of claw on scale.

“You mean we’re going to do the same thing?”

“It’s tricky to say. You could end up working together accomplishing some goal,” her voice trailed off and Chicken thought she had fallen asleep. She surprised him by continuing, “That’s probably it, actually. You two are fated to work together towards that same great destiny your tea leaves are always telling me about.”

A small cough caught both of their attention. They looked at Penelope, a fist still covering her mouth.

She started stutteringly, saying, “I'm not here for fate. Or destiny for that matter. I really appreciate your kindness. I’d like to repay you somehow, but-“

Auntie didn't let her finish. Quickly the old kobold said, “You're very welcome, child. We're not finished with you, but since you mentioned it you have some time yet to find a way to repay us.” For a moment, she cocked her head, then suddenly picked up the teacups and set them aside. “Let's put the future away for now. We've got the present to deal with. You haven't met anyone but myself and Chicken, and I think it's time you had some fresh air.”

Chicken sniffed before saying, “I smell cooking. They've probably got food ready.”

“Really?” Auntie said, bemused, “I hadn't noticed. Both of you help me up.” She gestured to the two who were seated around her to get up, holding her arms out. Obediently, they did as she commanded.

“But your jar. Should I clean it up? It was my fault, really.”

“Oh, no. It's probably dry now, that stuff is quick. And that spot has probably never been cleaner. Come, eat with us.” She got her legs and cane under her and strode to the door. The three of them stepped out into the rest of Very Small Numbers.

Outside, the sun was almost touching the horizon. Shadows of the surrounding rock spires lay over the uneven encampment like strips of dark blanket. The sky had turned to interesting bruise-like colors.

“Shari is making locust and brown mold kibbeh.” Auntie licked her scaly lips as the three of them came upon a fire pit. There, a greenish kobold was digging a wide, shallow covered pot out of embers at the edge of a moderate bonfire. Looking on with her, Penelope noticed, was a growing audience of hungry neighbors. She noticed also how they stared when they noticed her, moving respectfully out of her way as she followed Auntie. Or was it verging on fearfully?

The idea of eating fungus and bugs didn't turn Penelope's stomach. She’d had more exotic foods before. What did make her feel uneasy was the growing smell of spice in the air. The dish, free of the coals, was unlidded, revealing palm sized lozenges of roasted food. They could have been meat patties for all Penelope could tell.

Everyone there was served one of the patties, wrapped in a thin fabric. It all smelled like bitter, spicy licorice to Penelope.

“Two for you, Penelope?” Auntie asked, taking a kibbeh from Shari.

“Umm. I’ll try one.”

Shari, startled, looked from Auntie to Penelope and back. “But Auntie-“ she started to say.

“Hush, dear. One more, please.”

Another was begrudgingly wrapped and handed from Shari to Auntie, and from Auntie to Penelope.

Chicken was happily chewing his first bite. His mouth full, he said, “We had a blessing of locusts recently. Shari does a good job grinding up the legs and bits really small. Go on and try it, they're good.”

Encouraged, she held the meatball close for a sniff. Altogether, it didn't smell unappetizing. She decided to risk a bite.

“No!” a voice cried. It hadn’t come from the kibbeh.

“What is it doing eating our food!?” The voice, it turned out, came from an irate and prickly looking kobold. It was pointing at Penelope from across the way.

“Now, Salander, don't go making a fuss.” This was Auntie, sitting on the edge of the fire pit, poised to savor the first bite of her dinner. “We've discussed this to death already.”

“A fuss?” the kobold Salander asked mockingly. “Oh, I'm just fussing about an orc among us.” He marched over to Auntie and put his hands on his hips. “I hope you're not expecting to eat that. If it's eating tonight, it's eating your food.”

“I didn't mean-“ Penelope started bashfully, but Auntie spoke over her.

“Don't be ridiculous, Salander,” she tittered, instantly shrinking his outrage into a temper tantrum, in the way only a maternal figure can. She took a bite of her kibbeh. “Honestly. You can't expect me to believe we can't spare a little food and water.”

Salander fumed, grinding his teeth as he stood over her. With restraint, he said, “Auntie. You are not in charge here.”

She chewed silently in response, neither affirming or denying.

Salander continued, “So if I say we can't have an orc here, if I say it’s not eating our food, then we're not.”

“It's ok,” Chicken said cheerily, “she's not an orc, Salander.”

This earned him a cold glare from Salander. Luckily for Chicken, it bounced off his exorbitant obliviousness.

“Penelope,” Auntie said, at once dismissing and undermining Salander, “come over here and sit next to me.” She patted the seat next to her.

As she neared, Salander watched, eventually looking up at the orc figure that towered over him. He recoiled as she made a sudden move, which was just her sitting down next to Auntie.

“You may have forgotten in your senility,” he said in a low voice, “but orcs are not our friends, Auntie.” Penelope noticed some of the kobold neighbors shuffling awkwardly away, clearly affected by his words. She could see Salander notice this too, as he smirked slightly.

Pithy came to sit by Penelope. Then Chicken, having finished his dinner. Then a few kobolds Penelope didn't recognize.

Salander’s smirk wavered.

Things cascaded into a movement among the others, and eventually the pit was ringed with kobolds and one orc-looking girl. Some of these were the skeptical shufflers.

“I think it's time for a story,” Auntie said, looking at everyone except Salander.

He threw his hands in the air.

“Fine. You win.” He walked in a frustrated circle before stabbing a finger at the old kobold. “But when this snake bites us, it's on you. The raiding. The imprisonment. The bloodshed. Her people are going to find us, and it'll be because you took her in.”

“Tonight, I think it'll be the story of Hare and the Sand Adder.”

Salander stormed off, and Auntie continued.

“Once upon a time, long long ago, the wastes east of the mountains, our home, was very different. The land was young and life was new, and the desert wasn’t a desert but green with plants. This was ideal for Hare, who ate the grasses that grew here. They were plentiful in those days, along with beasts of the hunt and tasty bugs and green bushes and water. It ran through the fields, wild as anything else. The animals of the land east of the mountains were happy, and most important of all, the Great Kobold was happy. And so things went until the rain stopped.

“The Great Kobold, as kobolds were the biggest and strongest back then, was queen of the land. All the animals were scared of her sharp teeth, her powerful intelligence, and most of all, her large wings which bore her aloft so that she could watch the animals from above. No one noticed much that the rain stopped coming, but as it went on, the plants became withered and thirsty and the watering holes became smaller. The Great Kobold noticed when her mirror pond could no longer show her full majesty.

“She immediately sent for Hare, cleverest of the animals. He who escaped Hyena by telling jokes, giving her her laugh. Hare who convinced Grasshopper Mouse he's a hunter, putting bravery enough in the little mouse’s heart to hunt snakes. When he received word of the summons, he said to himself, ‘She will want me to do something dangerous, or else she would do it herself. I must outsmart her or she will not reward me.’ Determined to profit, whatever the endeavor, he went to the queen. Now, Hare had never met the queen before, but he had heard about her. When she received him, he saw she was big, big, big!” Auntie grew louder with each “big”, startling the younger kobolds. Speaking the queen’s part, she growled, “The queen said to Hare, ‘The rain has stopped. The plants and animals are thirsty. My mirror pool has dried up. I want you to send a message to Stormhaegen in the heavens above to send rain to me and my people. Will you do this for me?’ Hare, scared as he was, boldly asked the queen, ‘This is a dangerous task for someone so small and weak. Why not send Water Buffalo or Mountain Lion? They are bigger and stronger than me.’” Auntie wheedled Hare’s part, making the young kobolds laugh. Penelope looked to Chicken, confused. Chicken, veteran story listener, whispered to her that Hare was already a legendary hero, if the other stories about him were anything to go by.

Auntie, ignoring them, continued, “The queen saw Hare, small and fragile compared to her, and said, ‘This is true. You are not the biggest and strongest. I summoned you for this task because you are the swiftest and cleverest. I want rain, and I am not willing to wait.’ Hare replied, ‘I can do this thing for you.’ This pleased the queen, but Hare continued, ‘but I will request payment for this dangerous task.’ The queen was very wealthy in shiny gold, food, and drink. Knowing Hare desired her wealth she roared, ‘You are after my gold! Go now and do as I say! If you fail, I will eat you!’” Auntie really shouted this time. She wailed with the queen’s wrath into the night sky. Penelope found she was impressed, despite herself.

“Hare fled, dodging her powerful jaws, and left to deliver the message to Stormhaegen in his cloud throne among the heavens.” At this point in the story, she stopped for a while. She ate her food, another kibbeh kindly brought to her by one of the youngsters. A kobold raised her hand. “Did the queen eat Hare?’ She was jostled by her neighbor, who answered her question. “Don’t be dumb. He always gets out of trouble.” She retorted, “He didn’t bring the rain back, though. It’s not like in Auntie’s story now, is it?” He didn’t have an answer to that one.

“We’ll have to wait until tomorrow night to find out, won’t we? It’s time all kobolds be sleeping or keeping watch.” The circle dissolved and the fire was lessened.