We returned to Theo’s house in silence.

  Once inside, I offered to make dinner. I hadn’t cooked much since gaining a body, and keeping my hands busy felt preferable to sitting with my thoughts. I set to work chopping onions and potatoes, then set them to boil over the hearth.

  One thing I missed from my old world was temperature control. Cooking here was imprecise, dictated by flame and guesswork. I also missed seasoning—ready-made sauces, salt without effort. Gathering herbs and preparing anything beyond the basics took time most people simply didn’t have.

  Tonight’s meal was simple: fried lamb and boiled vegetables. Nothing fancy. Just food.

  While I cooked, Ash, Sera, Illara, and Theo played another round of five hundred at the table. Their voices were low, the game subdued, as though no one quite had the energy for competition.

  I was just serving the plates when there was a knock at the door.

  Theo rose to answer it.

  Standing in the doorway was the short woman we had seen at the graveyard, her dark hair cut close in a pixie style, rain dampening the shoulders of her coat.

  “Good evening,” Theo said politely. “How can I help you?”

  “I’m here to see Norman’s will,” she said, already stepping inside.

  She brushed past him without waiting for permission, removing her boots as she went and making herself at home with impressive confidence.

  Theo blinked. “Ah… and you are?”

  “Faie,” she said. “Norman’s apprentice.” She glanced back at him, unimpressed. “I’m disappointed you didn’t know that.”

  Before Theo could respond, I called from the hearth, “You’re welcome to stay for dinner, Faie.”

  She looked at me for the first time.

  “Yes,” she said immediately. “But hold the poison.”

  I couldn’t help the small smirk that tugged at my mouth. She had sharp eyes and sharper timing.

  “Don’t worry,” I replied. “The food will be poison-free. The wine too. Probably.”

  She snorted. “Good. I’ve heard stories about you. From Jenna. Don’t try anything.”

  Illara bit her lip, struggling not to laugh.

  I fetched an extra plate and served her portion.

  As Ash packed away the wooden tiles, Faie nodded toward them. “What was that game?”

  Ash didn’t answer, of course.

  “We were playing five hundred,” Sera said smoothly. “It’s a strategy card game.”

  “Hm.” Faie sat. “You’ll teach me after dinner, then.”

  It wasn’t a question.

  Oddly, I liked her already.

  We ate.

  Halfway through the meal, Faie set her fork down and looked directly at me.

  “So, Drisnil,” she said calmly, “I hear you’re directly responsible for my master’s death. What are you going to do to make up for it?”

  The words hit hard.

  I inhaled sharply and choked on a mouthful of food, coughing as I hastily set my bowl down.

  When I could speak again, I met her gaze.

  “I intend to bring the men Norman was investigating to justice,” I said. “And I intend to make sure you—his apprentice—are protected and supported. That you’re able to continue his work, if you choose.”

  Faie studied me for a long moment.

  Then she nodded once and picked up her fork again.

  “Good,” she said simply.

  The rest of the meal passed in uneasy quiet.

  Once everyone had finished eating, I gathered the dishes and carried them to the washbasin. Illara joined me, and we worked in quiet tandem, the familiar rhythm of washing and drying oddly comforting.

  Faie remained seated at the table, her eyes fixed expectantly on the wooden playing tiles.

  After a moment, Theo cleared his throat.

  “Would you like to try a game of five hundred?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Faie replied immediately. “As I requested earlier.”

  As Illara and I washed up, Theo began explaining the rules. Faie listened intently, chin propped on her hand, occasionally interrupting with pointed questions that suggested she was already trying to work out how to break the game rather than how to play it.

  Theo, Ash, and Faie set up, and once I finished cleaning I sat nearby to watch.

  Faie picked up the mechanics quickly, but she hadn’t quite grasped the purpose of bidding. Rather than bidding based on her hand, she consistently tried to outbid her opponents out of stubbornness alone. The result was predictable.

  She went out the back door.

  “That’s a stupid rule,” Faie said flatly, dropping her hand onto the table. “You kept forcing me to bid higher.”

  Theo raised an eyebrow. “Want to play again?”

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “Yes,” she said at once. “But this time, don’t bid me up.”

  “I won’t promise anything,” Theo replied, smiling.

  The second game went better.

  Faie didn’t chase every bid, and she even managed to win a couple of rounds outright. For a brief moment it looked like she might recover.

  Then she overcommitted again.

  Back door.

  “You’re improving,” I said mildly. “You’re playing against people with a lot of experience. You can’t expect to win immediately.”

  Faie huffed.

  “Hmph. Fine. Then you’ll keep playing with me until I am good at this game, Drisnil.”

  I blinked. “These tiles aren’t exactly portable. And I made this set as a gift for Theo.”

  “Then make another, smaller set,” she said, as if the solution were obvious.

  I opened my mouth, then closed it again.

  The certainty with which she said it made the task sound trivial.

  Once the tiles were packed away, Faie stood and pulled on her boots.

  “I’m part of your group now,” she said matter-of-factly. “So don’t leave without me. I’ll be staying at the temple.”

  Illara blinked. “Oh. Alright. I suppose we’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

  Faie nodded once and headed for the door without further ceremony.

  When it closed behind her, Theo leaned back in his chair with a smirk.

  “She sounds fun.”

  “Indeed,” I said. “We did need more people for our travels. I just wasn’t expecting someone to enlist herself.”

  Theo chuckled softly. “Norman always did attract interesting people.”

  And somehow, I suspected Faie would be no exception.

  The next day, we decided to retrieve Illara’s and Norman’s belongings from where we had abandoned them several days earlier.

  Illara went to fetch Faie while I prepared our packs. Illara would need to borrow one of my blades and had no armour at all, but we were hoping not to encounter anything particularly dangerous in the forest.

  We set out around noon. The day was bright and clear, though the ground was thick with mud from the thaw. Faie occupied herself by conjuring an illusion of a small grey cat, coaxing it to follow behind us. She made it pounce on branches, stalk fallen leaves, and generally behave like something with far too much energy.

  “Don’t you have a limited number of spells you can cast in a day?” Illara asked, watching the cat with cautious curiosity.

  “Yes,” Faie replied. “And?”

  “It’s just…” Illara hesitated. “Never mind.”

  Faie smirked and flicked her fingers. The illusion leapt onto Illara’s shoulder and began rubbing its head against her cheek. Being incorporeal, Illara didn’t seem to notice at all.

  I couldn’t help but laugh quietly.

  As the light faded and evening crept in, we chose a spot and began to make camp.

  Faie, however, simply stood there, watching us.

  “Faie,” I said after a moment, “could you help set up camp?”

  “Certainly,” she replied. “However, I do not possess the knowledge required to perform the task Set Up Camp.”

  I paused.

  It dawned on me then that Faie likely didn’t leave the city very often.

  “Alright,” I said carefully. “Could you collect some sticks for the fire? Don’t wander too far.”

  She nodded and walked with purpose toward a fallen tree nearby. With a short incantation, an ethereal hand appeared and began snapping branches cleanly, stacking them into a neat pile.

  I smirked to myself. This journey was already shaping up to be anything but dull.

  Once the fire was going, I set about making dinner—boiled potatoes and dried meat. Simple, filling, and not especially inspiring.

  Faie returned and dropped the pile of branches beside the fire with the help of her summoned hand.

  Illara had begun her prayers.

  Faie peered into the small pot I was stirring.

  “Hm. I would prefer better food.”

  “Better food means more weight,” I replied. “Be grateful we have meat.”

  She sat down nearby and watched me cook for a while.

  “I’ve been reading about the Nhalyri recently,” she said at last. “You don’t seem to fit the descriptions.”

  I glanced at her. “How so?”

  “Well,” she said lightly, “for one thing, you haven’t killed this cleric.”

  I smiled faintly. “Perhaps because I like her. The Nhalyri function as a society. Killing everything that moves wouldn’t be particularly sustainable.”

  “Yes, but don’t you enjoy torture?” Faie asked. “Power?”

  I sighed softly.

  Illara finished her prayers and looked up, watching us with a small, knowing smile.

  “I don’t,” I said. “Though I am always fighting my upbringing. Sometimes the cruelty slips through.”

  Faie tilted her head.

  “Jenna said she saw something in you. Something deeper than anything she’d encountered before.” Her gaze sharpened. “She likened you to a serial killer—pleasant on the surface, waiting for the right moment to strike.”

  She smiled faintly.

  “So of course I wanted to meet you.”

  Before I could answer, Illara spoke up.

  “I can vouch for Drisnil,” she said firmly. “She is not a serial killer.”

  Faie laughed softly.

  “Oh,” she said. “That’s good.”

  The fire crackled between us, and for the first time since we’d set out, I felt certain of one thing.

  Faie was watching me very closely.

  After dinner, we settled on a watch order. I asked Faie to take first watch; someone new to camping would likely find that easier than trying to sleep immediately. I would take second, and Illara would take third.

  Before turning in, we shared stories about Norman. Many of them were funny, the kind of stories that hurt and heal at the same time. Laughter came easily, then faded into quiet.

  When it was time to sleep, Illara and I lay down together near the fire, sharing warmth beneath the blanket. Her body fit against mine with familiar ease, and the crackle of the flames dulled the edge of my thoughts.

  We fell asleep almost immediately.

  The next thing I knew, someone was gently tapping my shoulder.

  “Time for your watch, Drisnil,” Faie whispered. “I need sleep.”

  I stirred and began to sit up. As I did, Faie slipped neatly into the space I vacated, ducking under Illara’s arm and drawing the blanket over them both. She moved with an ease that suggested this was entirely natural to her.

  It took me a moment to fully register what I was seeing.

  A small, unwelcome twinge of jealousy surfaced before I pushed it aside. It was pointless. Nothing about this meant anything.

  I took my place by the fire and kept watch.

  The night passed without incident. Shadows shifted. The fire burned low. My thoughts, unfortunately, were far less quiet. I replayed the last few days again and again, circling the same useless questions. The same imagined alternatives. None of it changed anything.

  Eventually, my watch ended.

  I woke Illara. She blinked awake, then froze slightly as she realised who she was holding.

  I met her gaze and murmured, “Don’t ask.”

  She didn’t.

  I lay down on the far side of the fire, wrapping my cloak around myself, and fell asleep almost at once.

  When I woke the next morning, I was warm.

  Too warm.

  A blanket covered me, and I was pressed close to another body. Faie was curled against me, breathing evenly in sleep, as if this arrangement made perfect sense.

  The warmth was welcome.

  The closeness… less so.

  Especially considering we’d only just met.