I jerked awake again and it took me moment to recognize I’d fallen asleep at all, just long enough to pop the retaining strap on my holster and half draw my pistol. Tomas turned from where he stood by the now bubbling pot over the fire.

  “You don’t look much better, Sam.”

  The yawn that took me was nearly full-body. “I’d say I look worse than I feel, but honestly, I’m not sure that’s true.”

  Slotting my pistol back into its holster, I looked down at the unexpected weight pinning my arm down to find a little blonde-haired girl curled up against my side, blinking the sleep from her pale blue eyes.

  “Guess I make a pretty good pillow,” I muttered to myself. “Lena, I presume?”

  The girl yawned back at me before replying with a quick shake of her head. “Malina.”

  I mussed her hair up a little and couldn’t help but grin as I did it. “You feeling better, Malina?”

  She glanced over at Tomas. “A little. I’m hungry.”

  “Working on it, little one,” Tomas said in mock exasperation. “She’s been keeping you company for the last half hour or so, Sam. I checked in on Lyria and Magnus, they’re both doing okay as far as I can tell, but it’s not like I’m a healer. They’re not worse as far as I can tell, at any rate.”

  “How long was I out?”

  Tomas gave that a bit of thought while stirring. “A bit less than an hour? Not sure. I expect—”

  Muttering and heavy bootsteps filtered through the front door and as it opened my pistol appeared in my hand, centered on the muddy, concerned face that appeared.

  “Who are you? Why are you in my home?”

  Malina launched from my side, bare feet pattering across the stone at speeds feasible only to small children. “Daddy!”

  Cognizant of the short sword in the man’s hand, I slowly lowered my aim and thumbed the safety back on while he dealt with the bawling child now viciously attached to him.

  “Peace, Jan,” Tomas said as he came around the corner. “We’ve already sent to the Green for help.”

  Outside, someone yelled, first in shock and then in dawning sorrow.

  The tanner breathed in and grew visibly paler, growing horror showing with his shrinking pupils. “What happened?”

  “We were passing by from the Green and smelled the smoke,” Tomas answered. “Samuel and I did what we could and kept watch over your family. A friend of ours is tracking the people who did it.”

  Jan’s eyes fell to the top of his daughter’s head and then darted around the room. “Where’s Ian? Magnus?”

  Something prickled in the back of my mind, diverting me from Tomas’s answer. Someone approached, at speed. Two of them, opposite directions. Before I could spend more than a heartbeat asking myself how I knew this, the sound of riders approaching at speed reached my ears.

  As I struggled to my feet, Aoife’s voice filled the darkening air outside. “Stand down, boy! We’re friends.”

  Several other voices broke out as the riders dismounted, but whatever violence had been promised had been narrowly diverted. With some effort, I forced myself to walk toward the door and ended up supporting myself with a hand on one of Jan’s shoulders while I watched the riders outside fan out. I recognized Aoife right away. I placed the two gathering things from their saddlebags as the priests from the Green and the expedition. The other three elves were militia scouts from the vanguard, but the four humans weren’t familiar at all. By the way they dressed, the weapons in their hands, and the way they carried themselves, I assumed they were also scouts.

  The healers brushed passed us with silent determination on their faces while Aoife remained at the bottom of the steps, her eyes fixed on the corner of the house where I knew the other presence I’d sensed would be in mere moments.

  “Thank the gods,” Tomas said, his voice full of relief, but Aoife cut him short with a raised finger.

  Unseen, Cailleach’s voice came from the side of the house. “It is done.”

  Aoife nodded, her attention swiveled to Tomas, to me, and then to Jan. “I wish this were under better circumstances, Jan.”

  I felt subtle tension in the man’s shoulder as Aoife set foot on the steps.

  “I don’t believe we’ve met?” Jan replied.

  A small smile appeared on the harvester’s face. “We have, but you were a small child who didn’t listen to his parents.” The smile grew. “Considering your trade, I suspect you’re much better at keeping track of where you are in the forest now.”

  Cailleach stepped into view beside Aoife, came the rest of the way into the house, and took a knee in front of Jan. She eyed Malina and whatever had been in her hands disappeared under her cloak. “I tracked the two who did this to your family. They won’t be bothering anyone else. There’s proof, if you need it.”

  Jan hugged his daughter, numbly shaking his head. “Thank you, I’ll take you at your word.”

  As Aoife stepped through the door and closed it, I heard movement behind us. “What of the wounded?”

  “Better than I expected,” the Syr healer replied. “Much better, actually.”

  “So she’ll live?” Aoife asked.

  “Aye. Probably would have even if we hadn’t rushed. Stellan took over after looking over the boy.”

  Cailleach regained her feet, confusion more than evident on her face. “How? The wound was beyond me. I could only help the son.”

  “I presumed the lady’s touch had come from you, but now I’m thoroughly confused. Where did the other come from then?”

  Startled silence filled the room.

  “Don’t look at me,” Tomas muttered. “I was seeing to the children.”

  It suddenly felt like every eye fell on me.

  “What?” A second of silence passed. “I just prayed for Lyria. That’s it.”

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  “And begged favor from two gods?” Declan, the Syr priest behind me asked.

  I half turned to look at the elf. “Not that I remember, no.”

  “Who exactly did you pray to, then?”

  Aoife cleared her throat and as I redirected my attention back to her I caught the tail end of a quiet nod. Cailleach put a hand around my shoulders and guided me with slightly less than gentle force out the door as Aoife noted, “The details are unimportant at the moment. I’m more concerned with this family’s safety and survival. The rest will be dealt with once we’ve addressed that.”

  A few steps along the front of the house later, I muttered to Cailleach under my breath, “There wasn’t anything I could do for her but pray. Why is this a problem?”

  “The prayer isn’t the problem, Sam,” she said quietly while she led me over to a conspicuous lone stump just beyond the corner of the house and motioned for me to sit. “Who answered, on the other hand very well could be.”

  I glanced about as I sat, noticed the stacks of firewood along the side of the house, and realized the tanner split wood out here. I started to ask the question that popped into my head when I belatedly connected the way she’d stressed ‘who’ to a certain deity in particular. I cleared my throat and then stepped through what I remembered, which admittedly was a bit on the fuzzy side.

  Cailleach grunted when I hit the end of my recollection and glanced back toward the house for several long seconds. “We’re probably safe then. I didn’t feel anything to suggest you are mistaken.”

  “So, I take it it’s a bit unusual for two gods to respond to a single prayer?”

  Her face brightened in the torchlight right before she snorted. “Unusual? Sam, this is the first time I’ve ever heard of it.” She shook her head and leveled some side-eye in my direction. “Not just two, but two from different races, as well? Aoibheann and Ranja? That’s the sort of tale fit for children’s stories, Sam.”

  I shrugged. “I didn’t expect anything to happen.”

  “Ah.” Cailleach reached around behind her, into one her belt pouches as far as I could tell. “On one hand, I want to tell you not to worry about it too much, but on the other, how much is too much if this is such a rarity?”

  “Yeah. Pretty much,” I nodded and then yawned, fighting the fatigue that had yet to relent much.

  “By itself, prayer can be emotionally exhausting, but actually having them answered exacts its own price,” Cailleach glanced down at whatever she held she’d retrieved before presenting the closed hand to me. “Here.”

  When I cupped my hands, several somethings, all light and round, dropped into them. I stared at the little dark spheres for a second, silently irritated at how dim the torchlight was. I rolled one between two fingers, recognized it as some sort of berry.

  I popped one in my mouth as Cailleach’s chuckle brought my attention up to the smirk on her darkened face.

  “You really should carry some of those with you, Sam, as frequently as I need to give them to you.”

  I bit down and immediately recognized the flavor. “What’s so funny about that?”

  She grinned as her cheeks darkened and then looked away. “Syr couples gift each other fresh kain fruit when seeking children.”

  The burn kicked in just as my thoughts went blank. She steadied me with a hand, and when the coughing finally subsided, I asked, “Any reason in particular for that?”

  She eyed me coolly for a moment before her eyes narrowed and her head tilted to the side ever so slightly. “I thought the implication obvious. You are aware how children are made, yes?”

  Maybe it was because I was still mind-numbingly exhausted. Maybe it was Aine’s constant needling. Maybe it was the fact I spent almost a decade spent in an environment where shit-talking and verbal sparring were considered art forms and my subconscious considered Cailleach one of the troops. Regardless of the why, I responded without even thinking. It wasn’t until her eyes widened, ears perked up, and most of her face darkened even further that I realized I’d riposted with, “If I said no, would you show me?”

  For a heartbeat, the only thought in my head concerned getting murdered for taking the joke too far, and I decided to try to get out in front of things before it got that far. “I meant is there a particular reason for kain fruit. Where I come from, it’s usually something sweet like chocolate or any one of who knows how many aphrodisiacs that supposedly increase desire.”

  A quiet, “Oh,” escaped her mouth shortly before her eyes focused on me properly. She coughed and then hurriedly unstoppered her waterskin before drinking deeply. “I suppose that makes sense, but my study of physiology tends toward other purposes.” Her eyes slid away from me, up toward the night sky, and her words became progressively quieter as she spoke. “Quinne and the priests would be far more familiar; though it would be embarrassing to ask them, wouldn’t it? The problem is less planting the seed and more having it sprout at all. Measured, concentrated magic helps from what I’ve read. That and it helps keep the sprout from withering.”

  Her voice trailed off into something unintelligible toward the end. Happy it didn’t look like murder was on her mind, I aimed for a reassuring smile as I stood. The moment I moved and started to speak, her attention darted right back to me. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that last part.”

  She answered with a wide, embarrassed smile. “I was just thanking Aoibheann.”

  “For?”

  “The happy misunderstanding. There’s not nearly enough privacy out here for that sort of thing, don’t you think?”

  The earnest sincerity in the delivery jack-knifed in my head, leaving me able to do little more than blink, open mouthed, while she reached down, plucked a fruit from my hand, and pushed it between my lips.

  A sudden twinkle in her eyes shattered the illusion of innocence and the coquettish grin that followed blew the shards to dust. “Besides which, as mana starved as you are, neither of us would get what we want out of that lesson, would we?”

  She cocked her head to the side, eyebrows raised questioningly for a single heartbeat, and then sauntered off with a little more swing in her hips.

  I bit down on the fruit in my mouth as the logjam in my head cleared. I didn’t need to hear the shadow that detached from the dark, unlit side of the house to know it approached, which was a good thing since it moved in near absolute silence.

  I spit out the pit, chuckled, and shook my head. “You know, Aoife, realizing you’re surrounded by wolves is a bit unsettling.”

  “Only if you’re the prey.” The harvester’s face bore a smirk when she emerged into the torchlight. “Are you prey, Samuel?”

  I thumbed another fruit into my mouth and sighed. “Prey doesn’t tend to have the teeth or claws to contest the hunt, but everything looks like prey if you’re hungry enough.”

  She came to a halt just outside of reach and nodded sagely. “Some prefer prey that still has a little fight in them at the best of times.”

  “So, you here to nip at my heels, too?”

  “Mostly I just wanted to hear who you prayed to. It’s not my place to say as I am not your instructor, but Aoibheann heading your prayer speaks well of your chances at becoming a harvester.” She paused after turning to leave. “Also, Sister Cailleach wouldn’t be the only one disappointed if you and Tomas didn’t return. Both of you are part of the pack, even if he has trouble seeing it. I still have our mead, and I hate drinking alone.”

  When I didn’t comment, I felt her gaze linger. “Something on your mind, Samuel?”

  I separated the pit from fruity flesh with my teeth and spit it out. “Where I come from, we caution people not to shit where they eat.”

  “Not bad advice, when you can choose where you squat. The fact that we can’t anymore hasn’t really sunk in for many. Not yet, but it will if we’re to survive, Samuel. When needs must, either grab the choicest meat with the cleanest hand you have or starve. Aside from sharing what you grasp, there are no other options left for my people.”

  The dirt shifted under her boots. “Besides which, none of us at the tip of the arrow can truly sup from that feast without imperiling the rest. Sister Cailleach was correct about a stable, steady flow of magic serving as encouragement, but any outward flow threatens just as much as too little in.

  “As much as any of us might want to nourish a seedling of our own, our branches protect too many. Perhaps one day, when we are a forest once more, my sisters and I will have that luxury. Until that day, though, I find little fault with those wanting only a hint of that promise. Even the strong need reassurance from time to time.”

  Still feeling more akin to a tennis ball caught in the middle of a match, I didn’t have much thought to give. “That’s bleak.”

  “That’s our life now. It’s not that you don’t have a choice in all this. You do, but so do we. I can’t speak for all my sisters, but the two of you are more than random, conveniently unclaimed males. You’re both men I can respect, men I can trust my back to. That counts more than most other factors, to most of us at any rate.”

  “If only I was Syr, things would be different.” I noted quietly.

  She nodded. “And, provided my suspicions are correct, if only we could give Tomas what he seeks. Life is seldom kind to any of us.”

  “No, it seldom is. Has anyone actually mentioned any of this to him?”

  Aoife shrugged. “I can’t say, but I suspect not. He’s been rather circumspect since he returned, but like recognizes like. There hasn’t been a good time to broach the topic.”

  I acknowledged the comment with a grunt. “Well, we’ll be on the road for the next three months. I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Good luck, Samuel, everyone is counting on you two.”

  I offered a weak smile in return. “No pressure, right?”

  “None at all,” Aoife said with a warm smile and departed.