When Kathy awoke the next morning, she found herself alone in the bed. Daggeuro and Celina's Boneyard home had four bedrooms, which worked out well enough. The kennin boys shared a room, Marianna had her own, Selena and Daggeuro had one, and then there was a guest room, which had been afforded to the humans. Baron Dimanche and the morphed dragons had been camped out in the living room.
Kathy went out into the hall and found a queue lined up for the lone bathroom with a shower, Byron at the rear, bleary-eyed and mop-headed. In front of him was the Baron, then Rasmus and Turot. Kathy scooted in behind Byron, wrapping her arms around him briefly. "Who're we waiting on?"
"Marianna," he said. "I would've just used the second bathroom sink, but Selena beat me to that. Dag already took off to convene with the high command. He figures they'll have a kitten when he tells them about taking off again."
"They'll have to deal with it," Kathy said. "Considering what we're trying to do, I think they'll let it pass."
"One would hope so," said Dimanche, whom Kathy realized with a start wasn't wearing his top hat. "Victory ovah de Destroyer would mean freedom for Ether." Marianna came out of the bathroom, and Turot slipped in past her. Kathy glowered at the lascivious look Dimanche gave the girl, who was wrapped in only a towel. Marianna herself gave the voodoo spirit a dismissive grunt and walked away toward her room, slamming the door for emphasis.
Turot was in and out in only five minutes. Rasmus took barely that much time, forgoing a shower for the time being. Dimanche was also in and out, a quick shower and nothing more. Byron and Kathy went in together, climbing in the pump-operated tub and showering quickly. She helped wash his back, as he did hers, silently caring for one another.
His sense of doom was infectious that morning. Kathy was struck by the impression that she might never take him back home, a feeling she cared for not at all. She swiftly dismissed the notion, however; his ability to manifest weapons, protection, and all manner of quick footsoldiers was going to keep him alive.
Her worry for Daggeuro grew, however. He wasn't moving any slower than before. But she had noticed the patches of gray fur behind his ears and on his hands over the course of the last two days. He was more reactionary as well, which she'd learned was a sign of aging in the kennin race. She pegged him for late middle-age now, an idea she felt uneasy about. How many more adventures did the stalwart warrior have left in him?
Breakfast was enjoined soon enough, and she forgot such things, focusing on food and Maefus, the red dragon. He spoke at great length, mostly in response to a barrage of questions Rasmus leveled at him about every topic under the sun. The kennin boy's curiosity rivaled tht of any child she'd ever met, but Maefus answered every inquiry calmly and at length, giving the full weight of his attention to his responses. He was like a grandfather figure, indulging in the pup's whims.
Croag stepped in here and there with tidbits of information, the most fascinating of which for Kathy was the telling of the first time he met a human. The green dragon had been a late foundling, almost an adult, when he met an Awakened man riding an elephant across the Hupana Flats in the deep southern regions. The man had come in search of a particular flower which bloomed wild in the Flats, and Croag helped him find some, feeling that this new species was intriguing indeed.
The human was never seen again by the dragon, though he heard many people speak of him in later years as one of the greatest healers Ether had ever known.
With breakfast eaten, Kathy talked Byron into taking a stroll through town, so they could socialize, see some faerie folk and enjoy some peaceful time before making ready for their journey. He agreed gladly, and they discovered an open air market after only fifteen minutes.
And here she made a pleasant discovery. In the noisy market, she heard anvils being clanged and beaten upon, and when the human couple neared the smithy stalls, she found Vernon, the cyclops she'd made friends with during her first visit to Celia, working on a curved tower shield. She gasped at the sight of him, tugging Byron by the arm as she knelt a few feet away.
"Working hard, good sir," she asked. Vernon wrinkled his forehead and looked up, blinked rapidly, and broke out in hearty laughter, his whole face lighting up.
"As I breath, Kathy Potts," he shouted, dropping his hammer, opening his arms to her. She embraced him roughly, soot smudging her cloak and blouse. She didn't care; it was too good to see friendly faces beyond Daggeuro and Selena. "Ah, it is very well, Lady Potts, very well indeed, ha ha!" He held her out, let her go and extended his hand to Byron, who shook. "It is a pleasure to meet you again as well, though I misremember where I know you from."
"I was Kathy's date at Sir Daggeuro and Lady Selena's wedding," Byron said. Vernon snapped his fingers.
"That's right! You are the curious fellow who was dancing on tables at the reception afterwards," Vernon said. Byron quirked his mouth to one side, rubbed the back of his head.
"Yeah, that was me."
"Then it is very well to see you too. Kathy, why are you returned to Ether? These are troubled times," Vernon said.
"You just answered your own question, actually. We're here to help put things right again. King Ovin is still alive, so we're going to go rescue him from where he's being held."
"Ah, a quest," said Vernon, a longing in his voice. "You know, great tales and legends are told of brave heroes embarking on journeys all through the ages, but never did you hear of the smithy's noble story." He sighed. "Of course, I don't suppose anyone really wants to read about the trials and tribulations of acquiring material and working it into armaments and protection. Might be a bit dry."
Kathy chuckled. "Yeah. 'See Steve. See Steve bargain for low-cost iron. See Steve slave over a forge and anvil for six days. Work, Steve, work! See Steve sell long sword for dismal profit margin. Bye Steve.' May take a niche market to sell that one."
Byron snickered like a child behind her, trying to contain himself. Even Vernon smiled broadly at her jape. "True enough, and it is good to see your sense of humor remains," the cyclops said. "Now, I am unfortunately quite needed at my work for the Faded Army's latest order of shields. Is there any work you need done? Weapons to purchase, or armor?"
"No, we're okay," Kathy said. "I just had to come and say hello. I'm glad you're here, where it's safe." Vernon gave her another hug, and she led Byron back into the milling crowds. She wiped a single tear from her cheek as she guided Byron over to a stall with a dwarven fellow making and selling timepieces, seeking more distractions.
The command council had been livid at first, but they acquiesced to Daggeuro's logic. He strode from the circular building where the command structure of the Faded Army headquartered itself with Senta striding alongside him. The gotrin assassin and spy had become a friend in the last few years, and he had agreed to come with him to save King Ovin in a heartbeat.
"They seemed spectacularly negative about our prospects," Daggeuro said as they made their way onto the broad street they would use to cut through most of the city. Senta, hood raised to conceal most of his face, snorted derisively.
"They always do, especially when you're not around."
"Where was Klaymok today?"
"Gone. Took his brothers and wife topside, said they weren't going to be part of our nonsense anymore. Cowards, the lot of them," Senta said flatly. "Raygo schemes to try and establish a high seat and put himself in it."
"You know this?"
"His daughters talk," Senta said, giving no further explanation. The gotrin kept his hands tucked inside of his dark gray cloak, barely showing any clear sign of movement. To the casual observer, he would look like an apparition floating alongside the kennin warrior. "While you and I are gone, someone should be assigned the task of keeping an eye on him."
"This is exactly what I have always hated about politics, the games and schemes played against what are supposed to be comrades," Daggeuro hissed. "Very well. I trust you to choose someone capable. Now, why was Galluf so quiet?"
"He is ill with stomach sickness," Senta said. "Some virus, nothing more. He's been like that for a few days, and should be recovered soon." Daggeuro thanked the gods the centaur suffered nothing more serious. "There has also been word from the Rover Corps, something not discussed at the meeting." Daggeuro twirled his hand. "Another dwarven fastness has been found and settled into, north in the former Serep province. The people there aren't yet very organized."
"Well, let's leave well enough alone there for now. Take word of this to Stahg, see what he wants to do with it." The pair was now into the market's spillover crowds from the next block. Kathy and Byron were at that moment speaking to Vernon, the kennin and gotrin only a hundred yards apart and never knowing.
Daggeuro guided Senta to a café only recently established by gnome volunteers. With no treasury, all trade was done by barter of goods and favors, but some folk volunteered their trades. He nipped inside with Senta, grabbed them coffee, and sat in a corner. This shop had once been a dwarven brewery and tavern, and the kennin favored its design over most other local hangouts.
Senta sat across from him, half-turned away so he could see the door. "I have wondered, Daggeuro, what will happen if we win out and repel the Destroyer? What happens when the dragons cease their oppression?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, what will people do with their freedom? Many of the old foundries and treasuries are still intact. Will nations be reborn? Will a singular empire be formed? Or will we be tribal once more for a time? These things I think about often," Senta confessed. "I worry of another syndicate like the one I once lived under."
"That sort of thing might happen elsewhere," the kennin said. "I believe Ovin will try to lead the rebuilding of his kingdom. If he does, I will once more swear fealty to him." Senta grimaced, shook his head. "What?"
"You don't get it, do you? The command council could have had their meetings without you, but they chose to wait until your return. The guards all seek your word before they do anything. Daggeuro, you are their leader here. You, not Ovin."
"That is only because his majesty is not here."
"He isn't 'his majesty', my friend," Senta pointed out. "King is a title, not a name. You should consider that carefully." Daggeuro made a face; he didn't care for the notion, though Senta was far from the first to imply that he should seize sole leadership. He didn't want it, though. Whenever he thought back on private talks with King Ovin, he was always struck by how much the crown drained the diminutive monarch. He wanted none of that.
"Once, I might have given it due consideration," said the kennin knight. He sipped at his coffee slowly, set it down. "But I am a father, and my children need me more than I need any title." Senta folded his arms over his chest, whiskers twitching.
"Your youngest is a middling adolescent. You aren't taking care of pups, my friend. We get through this quest of ours, you'll have to adjust your thinking. You may well restore a king to his throne, but the people are going to want the man who did so to take his own proper place."
"People can want anything, that doesn't mean they get it," Daggeuro grumbled. "Come, let us make for our final recruit, and let us hope he's up for this." Daggeuro gulped down the last of his coffee and rose, heaving a sigh. He was tired down to his bones, but freedom's cost could be so much worse than a few aches and complaints. Before all was said and done, the truth of that would come home to roost.
Kathy could hardly credit it, but she had found a pair of weapons she felt might be even better for her in melee combat than the axe. She held a long knife and dagger in her hands, weapons once used by Senta, and her mind's eye filled with visions of his use of these blades in close quarters melee over the years. He was a terrifyingly efficient fighter, second only to Daggeuro on the field of battle. His willingness to give over these tools of his trade spoke volumes of his skill.
"The weapon doesn't matter to an assassin most times," Senta said as Kathy twirled about the basement of the house, knives flashing in torch light. "I used those blades until four years ago, when I made these," he said, holding up two finely crafted red dragonbone knives. "Those shall serve you well, I hope."
"I think they will," she replied, tucking them into their small sheathes on her belt. She armed sweat from her forehead. "Your history is impressive, although I have to say, you used to do some awful things with these."
"An assassin rarely chooses his own targets," he offered by way of explanation. "Of course, you should know that now." She did, having seen in moments the history of the weapons she now possessed. She took a swig of her soda, sitting on an empty barrel off to one side of the squared chamber.
"By the way," she said, "I've seen the way you looked at Byron earlier. Does he bother you?" Senta did not respond, remaining motionless, hood up, by the steps. "He's not a bad man."
"But he is capable of very bad things," Senta said softly. "I will never forget what happened all those years ago. He showed me a gateway to Hell itself, miss Kathy. No man should have such powers."
"It wasn't an actual gateway," Kathy said. "It was just a temporary vision, something he came up with on the fly to scare you." The gotrin just stood with arms folded over his chest, impassive. "I wish you knew him like I do."
"But I don't. You know him as a friend and lover. I only know him as a former threat and a newfound ally. Of more there may come yet, but not just now." The gotrin sighed. Kathy suspected he rarely spoke so much to anyone other than Daggeuro. "Come on. Soon our final company member will arrive to make introductions." Kathy followed him upstairs into the kitchen, shutting the door behind her.
In the living room, muffled laughter and conversation. Kathy drew up to the archway between kitchen and living room and stopped cold. The final member of their company sat on the couch with Selena, and he looked over and waved a greeting to Kathy.
"Hile, and well met again, Lady Potts," said Vernon the cyclops.
While Vernon tended to fixing and enhancing everyone's armor at his smithy stall and Byron sparred with Daggeuro in a training hall near midtown, Kathy stood opposite Senta in the basement of the house, her blades in hand. Selena sat on the steps leading upstairs, having woven a blunting enchantment on all four weapons, hers and Senta's, so they could train without injuring each other.
Kathy began by sweeping in with a low 'X' crossing cut aimed at Senta's knees, which he hopped over. He countered with a double-downward stab, easily rolled aside from, but as Kathy stood up he caught her on the jaw with a follow-through kick. She stumbled, recovered in time to parry a bald thrust with his left blade, countering with a running slash along his side which he narrowly leaned away from. They stepped apart, fixing one another in sights once more.
Senta grinned. "It seems the scrying power gives you access to my non-weapon skills as well."
"The moves go hand-in-hand with the weapon type," Kathy commented. "All movement of the weapons derives from the same body, the same mind." Senta lunged forward, feinting left and hooking a stab right, deftly knocked aside by Kathy.
"Interesting notion," Senta said. "You know, I used to have those blessed so they couldn't be scryed."
"I remember," she said, opening a volley with a low stop-kick, following through with a right-to-left sweep of her left blade and her right, all blocked expertly. "Anything you've used as a technique with them, I know." Senta mirrored her combination, but on the follow-through, he added a thrust kick which caught Kathy in the gut. She doubled over, and he pressed the blunted tip of a dagger against the back of her head.
"And those I recently developed with these, you do not," he said. She stepped back, bowed to him, and sheathed the knives. "You are more than a match for most with those in hand. Combined with your bow, you are an effective threat now at both ranges." Kathy grinned, winked, and muttered a guttural word in elvish. The dirt floor rose up around Senta in a coccoon, wrapping his struggling form all the way up to his neck. Kathy skipped over and kissed her finger, then tapped him on the nose with it.
"And I've got other tricks to boot," she said playfully, sauntering over to the steps, where Selena was giggling. "The dirt will soften in a few minutes," she called back as she and her elven friend headed upstairs. "You'll have to clean your knives before you sheath them. Wouldn't want them to rust."
Senta growled, but grinned all the while.