Right on cue, the dwarf’s mustache twitched in recognition. However, instead of cautioning his employer like Thorn had intended, he stepped forward, dark eyes narrowing beneath the lip of his iron helm. Of course, a dwarf wouldn’t allow himself to be bested by a bunch of goblins. They were too proud for that.
But pride didn’t mean he’d fight fair. Dwarves never did. Fire and toxic gas were their favorite tools when it came to clearing out goblin caves – always things they could set and walk away from, as if that made their hands any cleaner.Efficiency, the dwarves called it.Drill down where the earth is softest. And, in this case, that meant seizing Mrs. Millwood with one gauntleted hand and yanking her towards him to serve as a makeshift shield.
“Don’t you think you’re overlooking something?” the dwarf drawled over Mrs. Millwood’s half-strangled whimpers. “I know halflings are awfully small, but surely you care about their—”
Well-being, Ren imagined he meant to say. However, Thorn swung out with his club quicker than his size would’ve suggested, and promptly silenced the dwarf with a hard smack to the head.
Dazed, the dwarf staggered back, his hold on both Mrs. Millwood and his hammer unraveling in tandem. While the hammer dropped to the floor with a heavythunk, Mrs. Millwood fled into the safety of the crowd, urged onwards by the gentle press of Thorn’s palm. She stood behind him, her hands knotting in the beige knit of her shawl, desperatelyseeking comfort.
“Face it,” Thorn said, once again addressing Agvaldir, who seemed to have grown a touch paler. “You’re outnumbered, outmatched. The pretty little lady”– he nodded towards Pansy – “gave you the opportunity to leave with a generous portion of your dignity intact. I suggest you take it. Unless you want to go the same way as your dwarf friend here. In which case, I am most happy to oblige.”
“You’re really going to fight alongside a bunch of goblins?” Agvaldir demanded, still scrabbling for some way to turn this around. Unfortunately for him, he’d reached the point where he was now scraping across the bottom of a barrel.
“It-it is rather unorthodox…” Mrs. Millwood said, the words jolting over her tremulous breathing. “But, I suppose, so is being accosted by armed men…”
Evidently, every halfling present could agree on that much, given the way they nodded and murmured among themselves.
“What about fighting alongside new friends?” Thorn ventured, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a lopsided grin.
“Y-yes.” Mrs. Millwood nodded, a pink tinge rising to her cheeks. “I think we could all do that.”
Land almighty. Had Thorn managed tocharmMrs. Millwood? Him – of all people? And unintentionally to boot! Ren might’ve laughed if the pain hadn’t seized any and all amusement in a vicelike grip, smothering it before it could fully form.
Finally realizing that this confrontation had run its course, Agvaldir straightened up as best he could and barked out a curt, “We’re leaving!” over his shoulder. He said nothing more as he headed back up the tunnel, pushing past goblins and halflings alike in a flurry of silken robes – though the parting glare he shot Pansy could’ve incinerated her just as readily as a fireballconjured from his fingertips.
Then he was gone, vanishing from sight along with his wretched henchmen, including the still-stumbling dwarf. And Ren, certain in the knowledge that Pansy was safe, let go of the tension pulling their body taut and allowed themself to drift. Down and down into the darkness lapping at the edges of their vision, where their side ceased to hurt, until, finally, there was nothing.
19
Pansy
Even the most immaculately kept burrows are not immune to the occasional stubborn stain. In such cases, one need only turn to our staunchest allies: vinegar and baking powder. And though they are potent tools alone, the moment they come together is when they truly shine.
ELLA MERRYWEATHER,HOME IS WHERE THE HEARTH IS
All Pansy could think about as she gazed upon Ren’s supine form, pale and motionless atop a ring of sodden earth, was the fact that they were dying. The person she loved most in the entire world was dying, and there was nothing she could do.
“Please,” she said, desperate in a way she had never been before, as Blossom continued applying pressure to Ren’s side with both hands. “Please save them. I know I haven’t been a good friend to you lately. I blamed you for things that weren’t your fault and unjustly punished you for them. I shouldn’t have done any of that. I’m sorry, Blossom. I—”
Blossom cut her off with a gentle shake of her head. “It’s okay, Pansy. Consider it all forgotten. Water under the bridge, yeah?”
She nodded, the lump in her throat bobbing with the movement, refusing to unravel.
Because Blossom’s face was ashen, even in the golden light from Agvaldir’s abandoned lanterns, flecked with sweat and blood. She swallowed. “I want to save them. I really do. If I had my supplies, I could make a healing potion, but—”
“Ren has herbs,” Pansy said quickly, hope squeezing hard around her ribcage. “Down the hall. Take a right at the first fork.”
“I don’t—” Blossom started to say, her expression creasing.
“I’ll take her,” Thorn said, his expression, for once, serious. “I have a pretty good idea of where it is. Hard to hide the smell of all those herbs from this nose.” He tapped it. “Though,” he added after a beat, his gaze resting meaningfully on Blossom, still crouched in the vastness of his shadow with something like wonder reflected in her wide blue eyes, “it’s surprisingly easy to get distracted by that lovely perfume of yours. Do I detect a hint of honeysuckle?”
Blossom blushed. “Freesia, actually.”
“Stop… flirting…” Ren mumbled, their eyelids fluttering weakly. “At least, wait… till I’m dead…”
Pansy seized Ren’s hand in hers, giving it a near bone-crushingsqueeze. “You’re not going to die,” she said firmly, as if she hadn’t been convinced of the opposite just a moment ago. “Don’t joke about that.” Somehow, speaking the words out loud helped, made them feel true. And this was something Pansy would give everything to make reality.
Thoroughly jolted back to earth, Blossom said, “I’ll be back soon. Keep pressure on Ren’s side until then. As much as you can.” She waited until Pansy was in position, then removed her hands. “Lead on,” she said, gesturing to Thorn, a hint of her earlier flush still clinging to her cheeks.
