But Mrs. Millwood, still pale and shaken from the events that had come before, didn’t seem to even want an argument on the matter. She gave a quick, jerky nod, sparing Thorn one last glance before announcing, “Haverow will always be thereto help its… friends.”
Warmth swelled within Pansy’s chest at the councilor’s words. Yesterday, at the Harvest Festival, she had been so sure that unity between halflings and goblins was nothing but a far-flung fantasy, relegating her relationship with Ren to more of the same: disapproval masked as grudging tolerance – not just from her side, but Ren’s as well. How glad she was to be proved wrong! Pansy only wished someone like Agvaldir hadn’t needed to serve as the catalyst – even if it was rather poetic.
After all, the man was startlingly similar to the villains that populated her vast library of Wolf Banefoot stories, selfish and cruel despite a thin veneer of respectability. Truly, it was no wonder she’d never liked him. And if this housedidin fact belong to her beloved halfling – and goblin! – hero, Pansy couldn’t think of a better place for the halfling and goblin communities to rise up together against a common enemy. No doubt, even the great hero himself would approve.
“Goblins and halflings as friends – it has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?” Pansy asked with a smile.
No sooner had the words left her lips than the air around her seemed to shift, charged now with some sort of energy. Magic, she realized, as the runes Agvaldir had been so preoccupied with earlier started to glow, eerily bright even amid the still-flickering lanterns. But as far as she could tell, no one had cast a spell, and a quick glance around confirmed this fact. Everyone looked just as perplexed as she was.
At least, until the stone wall beneath the archway at the end of the hall gave a tremendous rumble, one not so much heard as felt. The whole tunnel seemed to shake with it, sending streams of freshly loosed earth tumbling from the ceiling. For a moment, it seemed like the whole thing was poised tocollapse – as someone wailed from within the crowd – but then the stone wall stilled, and in one last puff of dust and debris, it gently eased aside, leaving a circular opening in its place.
Agvaldir was right, Pansy thought, eyes widening as she took note of the space that lay beyond the archway, newly revealed as a result of whatever magic had been embedded in those runes.
Though perhaps half-right was a better term. Because the cottage’s latest addition, while understandably musty, given how long it had been sealed off, was not a barrow. Far from it, in fact.
“As a child of two worlds, I here inscribe my final wish, that both halves might come together and again make whole what never should have been divided,” Pansy said, reading out loud the words that had appeared along the archway, the inscription so weathered it seemed as though it had always been there, just hidden from view.
“So, this was Aconite’s house,” Ren murmured, their eyes blown wide.
Pansy nodded. “Looks like it. And it sounds like he wanted this room to be a shared space, one that halflings and goblins could use together. Maybe that’s why it didn’t open until now. It was waiting for our communities to finally come together as friends rather than enemies.”
Ren said nothing as they rose to their feet, their initial steps unsteady enough that Pansy rushed to offer them her arm, which they gladly took. Together, they crossed the threshold first, lips parting in wonder as the full measure of the space finally hit them.
“It’shuge,” Pansy whispered, craning her neck in an effort to glimpse the ceiling, lost beneath an impenetrable tangle of ivy and other vines.
“Yeah,” Ren agreed, their own gaze sweeping across the bedsof mushrooms and moss that blanketed the floor at irregular intervals. “Bigger than all the cropland the clan has lost this season.”
Pansy’s eyes widened around an idea. “Do you think we can grow more food down here?”
“Probably. Nothing that requires sunlight, but – yes. It’s possible. Though we should try our best to honor Aconite’s wishes, no? Turn this place into something both of our communities can use?”
A fair point. Still, Pansy couldn’t help but tease them a little. “You sure you want to invite a bunch of halflings into your home? It’ll get pretty lively around here.”
They shrugged, though the smile tugging at the corner of their mouth belied their apparent nonchalance. “Fine by me. I’ve already learned to live with one halfling, what’s a few-dozen more?”
She laughed. “You say that now… How about a community garden, then? With a bit of space for recreation? Honestly, we havea lotof room to work with. And it doesn’t look like we’ll have to chase anyone out of their nests—”
As soon as the words left her lips, a shuffling sound, distinctly animal in nature, reached her ears. She stilled, straining to catch it once more. Though she needn’t have bothered; Ren, with their superior hearing, had already determined the source.
“This way,” they said, pulling her in the direction of an especially thick patch of vegetation along the nearby wall.
“What do you think it is?” Pansy asked, squatting down beside them.
They frowned. “I’m not sure, but I think it’s—”
A familiar black blur darted out of the bush before they could finish, scrambling up Ren’s chest in an absolute frenzy of flailinglimbs.
“Mushroom.” They winced, the claws seeking purchase in the fabric of their shirt evidently far from comfortable – not that the kitten cared one whit.
He trilled upon reaching Ren’s shoulder, where he settled in a contented loaf, all of his earlier energy strangely absent, as if a short sprint and a scramble was all that was needed to tire him out. Ren obviously didn’t believe it for a minute, leveling a narrow-eyed, sidelong look upon their shoulder’s latest tenant. Granted, their misgivings didn’t stop them from rubbing Mushroom lightly behind the ears, but, then again, when did anything?
Equally weak to Mushroom’s charms, Pansy’s hand was quick to join Ren’s, stroking the explosion of fur around Mushroom’s scruff.His mane, she thought, smiling – though in truth, Mushroom was more like a panther than a lion. “How did you even get in here?” she asked. “Is Pig with you too?”
An affirmative snort resounded from the same patch of greenery Mushroom had bounded out of, and a moment later Pig’s head burst into view, flattening a couple of fronds in the process. It took a few seconds for the rest of her to follow. Evidently, the tunnel the two of them had managed to find their way into was a bit of a tight fit, especially for Pig, who, unlike Mushroom, was the very opposite of small.
Ren let out an amused huff. “Let me guess, this is where the two of you have been vanishing off to all this time. And here I was thinking there’d be a far less interesting explanation.”
“What do you think dug this?” Pansy asked, pushing aside the surrounding vegetation with both hands so that she could peer into the almost-exactly-Pig-sized hole.
