Bluebriar didn’t get the opportunity to protest the gift, however.
“Wait!” cried another voice, as Staysha the Silver Sparrow came stumbling out of the abbey doors toting a battered lute case, her black hair falling free from its jeweled clip. Everyone turned in surprise as the dwarf came huffing to a stop a few feet from Astryx. “I . . . whew . . . hey, so, I had no idea you were leaving today!”
Astryx, bemused, blinked at her.
Catching her breath, Staysha continued, “Is there any chance I can travel with you, just for a while? At least until you reach civilization?”
Fern frowned, gesturing southwest. “But Bycross is that way. We’re heading in the opposite direction. Don’t you have some kind of engagement to get to?”
The dwarf waved a hand dismissively and laughed. “Hells, they’ve long since given up on me showing. Time to pick a new horizon and see what opportunities I can find.” She refocused on Astryx. “I won’t be any trouble! Hells, with no cart, one of you is bound to be walking most of the time. There’s room on my wagon. You can make better time that way.Wecan make better time.”
“Well . . .” Astryx’s expression clouded.
Fern thought she could see her weighing the prospect of endless prodding for tales of derring-do against Staysha’s offer of a spare seat. If the elf hadn’t been wounded, Fern had no doubt she would’ve declined instantly. She’d traveled on foot before, but as things stood . . .
Fern was amazed at how vehemently she wanted the bard to stay behind. There wasn’t anything wrong with the woman, really, apart from her overbearing interest in Astryx. She was friendly enough. Still, Fern caught the elf’s gaze and tried to transmit her objection with her eyes alone.
Astryx chewed her lip and stared eastward like she was gauging the distance left to travel. Fern saw the precise moment of resignation before the elf turned back to Staysha.
“All right,” she said, with a reluctant nod.
“I think Zyll would probably like to ride in the wagon. Wouldn’t you, Zyll?” said Fern, brightly. No matter how mixed her feelings toward the bard, she didn’t strike Fern as a bounty hunter in disguise.
Staysha seemed to notice the goblin standing in Astryx’s shadow for the first time.
Zyll grinned at her with savage cheer.
“Wait, who the hells is that?” asked the perplexed dwarf.
Rhubarb mounted a donkey and accompanied them back out the tentacle-flanked entrance and along a narrow, less-traveled path that curved around the perimeter of the abbey and to the northeast. The snow was crusted over and wet beneath, breaking up like ocean ice before Bucket’s progress. Fern rode in front of Astryx. Staysha brought up the rear with her dun pony gamely following the larger horse, Zyll on the buckboard beside her.
Fern glanced over her shoulder and around the elf, and thought the dwarf looked vexed by her travel partner.
“Something the matter?” asked the Oathmaiden as the leather creaked beneath them and Bucket’s hooves cracked through the snowshell with squeals and snaps.
“Nothing at all,” replied Fern, smiling to herself.
They passed alongside three more of the Tarimite bell-walls before reaching a promontory of stone and snow overlooking a deep valley. Far below, a long, still green lake filled the notch it made, painting near-perfect replicas of the clouds above.
“I’ll leave you here,” called Rhubarb from the back of his donkey. “Follow the switchbacks down, and the path continues along the south side of the lake. Go slowly and be careful.” He laughed ruefully. “No bridges that way. Even so, don’t try Tarim’s patience any further, eh? Leave us at least one way out.”
With parting words of thanks, they continued along the promontory until the way plunged downslope.
The sun seemed warm for the first time in weeks, despite the snow in every direction. Fern closed her eyes and luxuriated in the unexpected heat of it on her fur, leaning back against Astryx’s belly as Bucket navigated the decline. The clatter and clank of Staysha’s wagon behind them was a lulling counterpoint to the rhythm of their motion.
It took the better part of the morning to make their cautious way to the base of the valley and the westernmost point of the lake. There, dark, round stones emerged to stud a snowy beach that had been skimmed thin by winds which were now still. The lake’s surface seemed a mystic window into a verdigris world that mirrored their own.
As the way became easier, Astryx spoke unexpectedly from above Fern’s head. “You never finished the story.”
“Hm? Oh.Ten Links? Well, after you got up and around, there didn’t seem to be time, somehow.”
Astryx made ahmsound that Fern could feel in her back where their bodies couldn’t help but stay in contact. “Plenty of time now.”
“Oh, shit. I think I stole their copy. It’s still in my bag.” Fern laughed guiltily. “I’m not sure I can read and ride, though. I think it’d make me horse-sick.”
“Ah.” She sounded disappointed.
“But,” Fern amended, “I remember most of what happened. I guess it depends on whether you’re fine with the Fern version.”
