Chapter 3: the things crazy people say mean nothing to them but everything to me
"What a sweet old man. Was that his grandfather?"
— 5 —
Scabs fascinate.
Eddie counts every cell of lost blood as they slither from her cuts. Most don't make it far. That's by biological design. They stick to her ribs until they form a glossy sheen. Drying in place, forming another biological film stuck to her. The rest of her body dries with the climb up the hill, the breeze itself blowing on her wet exterior.
Then the blood is scab. Clumped, dried blood forming a desperate barrier between the immune system and whatever horrors exist outside. It feels good, in a backhanded kind of way. Like saying the only reason her bladder is empty is because she's definitely dehydrated.
Even if that little kid puts in a good word for them, she doubts they're going to receive the warmest welcome in whatever town is up the hill. Here she is, filthy, torn up bad enough to almost be half naked. Alongside her is a boy covered in gore and bits of mind flayer brain. And that's before you remember she doesn't even have any money to buy her way in and get a bath.
Paying a healer the king's ransom it'd rightly cost to remove the tadpole? If she were back home, or even in her temporary lodgings in Baldur's Gate, she'd have the money. Her name means something to the right people. Covered in so many drying fluids, though? No one would take so much as an IOU from her.
"Reckon that's it?" Jack asks, pointing forwards. She still has no idea where his throaty accent is from.
At first, Eddie doesn't really see it. She sees a forested grove beneath the gaping maws of old limestone caves, in a little dip in the land without any obvious fortifications. It looks like somewhere bandits would call home instead of anywhere to build a town. It takes her a moment to notice distant movements up in the caves and ramshackle wooden structures. A lot of movement, actually.
The breeze picks up. Eddie sniffs.
"What?" he asks.
"I smell animals. And magic," she says.
"Cherries and mustard?"
She squints. "What? No. More nature-y, not the nautiloid." Even though, over the horizon and distance she can still make out faint wisps of smoke from the crashed ship. Her forehead feels strangely heavy with creases as she steps forwards to get a better look.
The grove actually isn't defended. At least not from this angle. It's like they expect the cliffs and geography to be all the discouragement they need. There's even a notable foot entrance between the trees. The magic's scent gets more piney. She can see an idol in the center of the grove and people of various species working some spell, chanting as green motes of light circle the stone idol.
More of them, too. Mostly elves. A few dwarves. Even a halfling. All she can tell is they're moving around and quick. An agitated mass of flesh without any clear direction, like a kicked ant hill.
Then it hits her.
"Those are druids!" she hisses.
He stares at her blankly. "Good?"
Eddie looks at him like he's stupid, which she remembers he is. So she appropriately and permanently lowers her appraisal of him before recentering herself. "I don't know, Jack," she tries to say with patience. "Do you enjoy the company of nature cultists with nothing better to do in their lives than wipe their arses with leaves and refuse to wash their hands because all the germs are just another of nature's bounties for their weird magic?"
His face indicates not a single conscious thought as he says, "So? You do magic, too."
Eddie almost gags. "Saying I do magic and that they do magic is like saying the coin a whore earns is also just 'a fair's day wage.'"
"Who's the hooker in this metaphor?"
"Them!" she says, trying to keep her voice low.
"You're making me mad uncomfortable right now, girl."
"Good! Now you know what it feels like, Jack!"
"What?"
She shakes her head. "Look, in the center of the grove. See it? I think that's an idol of Silvanus."
His face is unreadable.
"God of nature?" she says. "Of weird animal mating, too."
"I'm well aware. I was waiting for you to make a point."
The insides of her throat itch. "They're trying to cast a spell centered around it. I can't determine what it is, but it feels wrong."
Someone screams. There's a lot of shouting, actually. Angry voices. Both of them turn to face it. Down from the caves come more people, following something. So many bright colors, too. Either everyone up there is rich enough to lavishly dye their clothes or, more likely like that boy, they're tieflings. But what are so many tieflings doing with druids?
The druids in the grove tighten up, like a loose battle formation. They don't look confident. Too fidgety. One shifts so violently that, with a flash of druidic magic, their skin warps into the wild shape of an animal. Eddie feels uncomfortable chills somewhere in her left kidney, tingling in her renal glands.
A woman enters the grove from the caves, dragging a much smaller figure with her. another tiefling child like Mirkon who's doing their best to fight back and drag their feet, to no avail. A bear and wolf flank them like an honor guard. The druids close ranks at the entrance, keeping the crowd of screaming tieflings back.
Jack is standing up.
"Get back down!" Eddie hisses. "Just wait whatever this is out. Find another, better way in."
"No, you're right. For the wrong reasons. Something is wrong here."
He steps forwards. Eddie wants to grab and pull him. Her wrist seizes at the thought of willingly touching someone, fingers twitching. "We just talked about this! No running off without me."
"Then back me up. I'll walk," he says.
"This is an awful idea. Terrible even on a surface-level examination, which I think even you're capable of if you try really hard if you put on your big boy brain and think for a second here, Jack."
He glances back at her. His breathing is patchy and rough. "Eddie, I need you to trust me here. Can you do that?"
"No!" she almost shouts. "I absolutely, categorically do not trust you!"
He heaves a breath. "Right. Solo ops, then. Fuck it. We ball."
And trudges over the crest of the hill straight into that warren of druids. Eddie hunkers in place, twitching. Trying to figure out where all the chemicals are in her body suddenly fleeing towards. She tries to look around for some way to stop him. To stay hidden and safe now.
Eddie reaches into her mind, trying to grab for the tadpole squirming between her gray matter. It swims in a soup of pulped fat and slushed neurons. Trying to use it to somehow get Jack to stop. The tadpole bites somewhere and bunkers down.
Her eyeballs feel oddly sticky. Every little jerking motion they make, she can almost hear the peeling sound as they pull apart from her eyelids. She thinks she can feel compressed air squeezing from the cuts in her ribs. There's so many druids. And Jack is just walking towards them, fists clenched, and they're not even looking.
She swears and stands fast enough that her vision clouds. And chases after the boy.
His long legs make short work of the distance. Through the overgrown archway and into the seething throng of people. The chanting from the druids working the spell around the central shrine and its statue is barely audible over the shouting crowds.
This close, Eddie can hear the voices clearly. An elven druid is dragging a screaming red-skinned tiefling girl, who's begging the elf to stop. The rest of the druids are trying to hold back a tiefling crowd, demanding they let the girl go with a mix of pleading and threats. It's the first step to a full on riot. No one looks well-dressed.
They're saying more. But all Eddie can focus on is the smell of animals and sweat. The musty odor of dirty bodies and people who live with wolves and oxen. Vague sulfur on the breeze. It's acrid, a stench that burns whatever's left of her nose hair and makes her sticky eyes mercifully water. She can blink again without the skin sticking to her eyelids, and it's hard to open them again.
One of the shape-changed druids spins to face them, a bear. It chirps more than roars. The crowd rumbles like blood in the ears.
The elf dragging the child turns to face Jack, who got far too close. Her cheeks are sharp enough Eddie can see herself using the face as a knife. Naturally stern bones that almost predestine a person to a life of being harsh and standoffish, in the ways only bones can dictate. Her clothes include a weave of leaves, more style than function, and Eddie can only imagine how itchy it must feel.
The other druids look from the crowd to Jack and then at the elf. She's in charge, then. It's obvious. No one knows what to do. The little girl continues to try to pull her wrist from the elf's grip.
"What the!" the woman says, voice loud to drown out the screaming. Commanding in the way that people only barely in control have. "Who are you? How did you get in here?"
Jack stands there. He looms, covered in the bodily fluids of monsters. The elf can't easily get around Jack to wherever she's taking the girl.
"A friend," he says simply.
She sneers. "I don't care who you are, but unless you'd like to be bear food, you'll leave. Now."
Jack doesn't move. "You don't have a door. I just walked in from the river. Hardly seems like you could keep me out if you wanted, lady."
Another druid steps up. "You will address Archdruid Kagha with proper respect!"
Jack's steely eyes snap to him. "And you will address a paladin of Silvanus in kind."
Eddie feels his lie rattling in her good lung. As if a holy warrior of nature would just pulp a squirrel!
Kagha holds up a hand to her underling, staring intently at Jack. "You're a paladin?"
His gaze doesn't waver. He lifts his hand and it glows with divine light. "As ordained by my Oath, Archdruid Kagha."
"Wearing that?"
"Yes. And?"
"Who is that woman with you?" Kagha asks, squinting. Eddie pictures those cheeks stabbing into the cuts scoring her ribs and flensing her.
Jack shakes his head, almost disgusted. "Focus, Kagha. A mind flayer ship has crashed outside your grove. You've nearly a riot on your hands. And harpies haunt your river." He briefly produces his sword and the bit of blood left uncleaned for emphasis. "Nature intends to return your environs to balance. So here I am."
Kagha stares at him for a very long time. Eddie knows the lie won't pass even a cursory examination. People continue to shout in the background. One of the wildshaped druids roars as a tiefling hits it with a rock. Some in the crowd fall back as it snarls, stalking them.
It's enough to distract Kagha. She looks back at Jack and seems to realize something. The elf heaves an irritated breath. "Fine. Your services will be required to set right this grove. Follow me, paladin."
She tugs on the little girl, face angling towards an ornate door carved from stone at one end of the grove.
Jack doesn't move. "What business I conduct may best work in the daylight, Kagha. What are your intentions towards the child?"
"Child?" Kagha hisses, eyes like slits. "A thief. A parasite we've allowed to grow fat off our generosity."
"I'm sorry!" the girl says, crying. "I won't do it again. Please! Please!"
Kagha twists the girl's wrist, who yelps in pain and falls to her knee. Some of the other druids pointedly stare at their feet.
"Explain yourself," Jack says.
"What?" Kagha laughs mockingly.
"I am a paladin. What do you expect me to do?"
She looks at him for a long moment. "You are ordained to judge as a neutral third party."
His lack of a reaction is telling in the worst way possible. "Yes. That is exactly what I meant and something I can very much do."
Eddie wants to run. She wants to bury her face in her crusty hands. Part of her is reaching into the Weave of magic, expecting a fight. There's no other way this can go. Maybe she can run. Get a defensive position. Or, more likely, use Jack as a distraction.
Instead, Kagha makes a disgusted face and thrusts the child forward. "This one attempted to steal the idol of Silvanus! From us, who sheltered her and her people. We took them in and this is how they repay us."
He looks at the idol in the center of the grove. "It appears to be present."
"Only because we gave chase," Kagha says. "Her kin attempted to shelter her, but this is our grove. I intend to make sure this never happens ever again."
Jack nods. "Girl, do you have a name?"
"Arabella," the tiefling says, eyes puffy. Her hair is dirty, resting haphazardly against the two demonic horns on her head.
"What do you have to say for yourself?" he asks, folding his arms.
Arabella looks at Kagha. Her mouth moves, tongue rubbing against her teeth. She struggles again. Finally she says, "They were going to throw us out! Out there with all those monsters. I thought—" She sniffles. "I thought if I took the idol, they'd stop, and we could all stay. I'm sorry, please!"
Kagha spits. "There you have it, paladin. As Silvanus is our witness, before the Emerald Grove and these parasites, I present my case for judgment. What say you?"
The little girl bawls.
Jack breathes slowly. "In much of the world, the punishment for theft is loss of a hand. One's own life, if the crime is so grave. The death of a child is a timeless tragedy, even if needful, for some relics are truly irreplaceable once gone."
Kagha's mouth is all teeth. "Exactly. Silvanus' own judgment is appreciated, paladin."
The crowd seems to be screaming out, pushing against the wall of druids and animals.
Jack holds up his hand. "Yet I see the idol of Silvanus sits where it belongs. Your ritual continues rightly. I see a riotous crowd. I see balance where it should be, and I see the stir you are causing, Archdruid."
Kagha scowls. "You can't be serious!"
"Let Arabella go to quell the crowds," he says, staring Kagha down. "I will see after the tieflings myself. You, however, must continue as you were."
Her jaw hangs. Her tongue is like an angry little worm wriggling in her mouth.
"I have passed judgment. You will abide thereby unless you intend to cross a paladin of Silvanus before His own grove, Kagha?"
Arabella fights and squirms. Until Kagha releases her. The girl hits the ground hard, only to jump up and sprint towards the tieflings.
The elf shakes with rage. Breathing slowly to calm herself as the druids watch them. She sucks on her lips and exhales slowly. "You will seek out their leader, Zevlor. Remove them all. I have abided by your judgment. As Archdruid of this grove, you will now abide by my orders."
Jack nods once, smiling even. "Of course."
And that's it. Eddie watches as Kagha gathers her druids, snapping and barking orders, making people go to post to or support the ritual. The tieflings take the girl and swarm her, with many breaking away up the stone steps deeper into the caves. At least none of them look ready to storm the druids. Many of the druids are watching her and Jack.
As if on ungreased gears, Jack's head twists towards her in starts and fits. His eyes are wide. "Okay, no sudden movement. I'm sweating enough anything fast might make my armor slip off, yeah? So on the count of three we need to fucking walk very confidently away, no matter how badly we want to run in terror. Okay? O-fucking-kay!"
— 6 —
The druids keeping the tieflings out have no problem letting Jack and Eddie out. The crowds even give them space, like Jack's presence parts the sea. So many tieflings, too. None of them look like druids at all. Eddie wonders why they're here.
They come in so many colors of skin and eyes. Some are red, others have almost purple flesh, and many even have almost fair skin. Their eyes look too shifty. Even if some look apprehensive or thankful, Eddie can't shake the way it looks like they're all sizing her up. Like they plan to rob her if she strays too far from the boy.
The stone stairs lead up further into the caves and the people up there. There's bits of scaffolding and makeshift wooden boards where age has broken the stairs. This place must be ancient. The scent is more people than animals up here, at least.
"You!" Arabella shouts, being held in the arms of her mother. "Thank you!"
Her father looks like he hasn't slept in a tenday. "You saved our daughter. I don't know how, but you did."
Jack's steely expression is gone. He looks almost like a tourist, the way he's examining the scenery and people. "Dragon's lair?"
"What?" the man asks.
"Alright, you're not Dani."
Eddie gets up behind Jack, up on her tippy-toes just to hiss, "Keep your mouth shut and keep walking before any of the druids overhear you and realize you're you."
So Jack just smiles and snaps his fingers at the man, who has no idea what to do with this gesture. The little girl waves them off with happy tears, until her mother berates her for trying to steal the idol of Silvanus.
They keep walking.
"So what was that back there?" she asks, voice low, looking at the grove below.
"We talkin' now, kemosabe?" he says mildly.
Eddie jogs up just to give him the side-eye from the proper direction. Even if it means she has to bite down a sudden cough.
Jack holds his hands up in mock defense. "I took a gamble."
"Gambling?" She scoffs. "Who is your god? What even is your Oath?
"I…" He frowns, teeth grit slightly. Little bits of oral bones pressing into each other as if to hold onto prey. "I came to with it. Like a faded instinct, really. I'm not positive what it even stands for. It just is."
Something in his tone is like ice. She feels it clotting in her dehydrated sweat glands. "So, what, your amnesia ate those away, too? The very thing that defines who and what you are? That's like me forgetting how to cast spells."
He smiles at nothing, nodding. "Y'know that's a very convenient out. Just some brain damage that somehow doesn't prevent me from otherwise functioning. Let's go with that and accept it at face value. Focus on finding a healer."
Eddie doesn't think she's going to get much more from him. She can't tell if he's lying through his teeth or is exceptionally cagey. A part of her feels pressing wouldn't advantage her situation. It'd make things more complicated in a way she doesn't need.
So she tells herself she doesn't care. If he wants to pretend that way, no reason not to indulge the polite fiction so long as they're both on the same war path.
Her eyes go to the grove again as she thinks over their options. "Some druids possess profound healing magic."
"Do you want to go back down there on the off-chance they have it, though?"
"Every moment we tarry is another we're closer to a hideous transformation."
"Meaning?"
Eddie sighs. "Maybe we find this Zevlor person and talk, then report back and talk to the druids."
"I feel like we're on a proper adventure."
"Or a death march into almost certain oblivion." She rolls her eyes. "But sure. Let's go with your very optimistic interpretation."
He pumps a fist. "Sweet."
"You know what's really sweet?" a child standing by a wagon says. "Mister, c'mere. You just saved Arabella, right? I got a ring you'd like to—"
"Dragon's lair?" Jack asks hopefully.
"No!" Eddie snaps, pointing harshly at the child. "We're not buying. Get away from us."
"Eddie, don't be rude," Jack chastises, shaking his head. "What if he's just trying to help put his sister through college?"
"No," she says sharply. "You do not indulge street trash peddlers. Ever. Not even once. He's probably just trying to rob us. Look at those tiny hands, just the perfect size for pickpocketing. Get a real job, brat!"
The child blinks in surprise.
"Move!" she tells Jack.
At least he does, even if he looks apologetic at the tiefling kid. Eddie makes sure her own scowl is twice as harsh to make up for Jack.
"Gods!" she groans once they're away, keeping her voice low. "The only reason I'm still alongside you is because there's a chance your mere presence will starve our tadpoles to death before they have a chance to eat anything intelligent."
"Y'know, I were really figuring you'd change your tune on me after I got us into this place." He gestures around them. "How would you'a talked your way through those druids without me?"
She shakes her head in disbelief. "I wouldn't have been in that situation if you'd just listened to me, boy."
"Then how would you have gotten in?" he asks.
"I don't know." She throws one of her hands up. "Waited until they stopped being angry. Walked around and found another entrance. Or just not dealt with it and found a real settlement without unwashed temperamental druids."
He looks unimpressed. "Making a lot of assumptions there, chica. It looked like it was about to turn into a bloody riot before I did my super cool paladin thing. Plus, as if a girl in your state could walk however many miles to the next town."
Eddie lets out a long, shuddering breath. Her ribs ache again. She folds her arms uncomfortably and can't help feeling how much of her body and undergarments are still damp from some liquid or another. It's the chafing, mostly. She's almost afraid to take it off for new clothes. Like some of her skin might slough off and stick to the garment.
It's a strange feeling. Jack is correct about something she's arguing against.
So she says nothing and focuses on all the aches.
The stairs lead up to the main part of the cavern. Water had long ago eaten away the limestone, leaving a massive hole that let natural sunlight illuminate everything. There are pack-animals up here and more tieflings. She sees ramshackle wooden structures and lean-tos everywhere. There's a section where men and children are training on dummies at the top, before the cave digs deeper into more parts of the camp.
Then there's the scent, hitting her in the guts like an arrow. It smells… well, it's not edible, but her nose knows food. The sudden cavernous hole in her stomach nearly makes her double over, as if she's been punched right through the guts. She has to stop for a moment, leaning against the rocky wall to steady herself.
"You good?" Jack asks.
"Food," she grunts. "Very bad. Medicine and clothes, too."
Down the cave, in a little dip near a pool of water. The tieflings look like refugees, watching them with suspicion. Those streaming up from the grove at least look grateful. Eddie can almost see the gossip about them spread in real time, mouth to mouth. It almost makes this camp look like a normal town, complete with a blacksmith, a sort of tavern, and various tents. One of them is an old woman with purple skin working a cooking cauldron.
"Dragon's lair?" Jack asks her.
The woman looks up at Jack and Eddie with a sad, grandmotherly face. Then she sniffs at them and her face twists in on herself. "Hells, you two look terrible. Here, let me fix you up something to eat. It's not much, but anything in your bellies is better than nothing."
She ladles two rather generous bowls with… something. The bubbling cauldron smells like watered down grains, no spices or even salt. The color is off-white, bordering on gray. Jack accepts it, strangely silent, just with this distant, uncomfortable look in his eyes that reminds Eddie of how much dried blood is still clogging her sinuses. She's glad she can't smell herself like the old woman must be.
"Your prices, woman?" Eddie asks.
The old lady scowls at her. "Cost? Sweetie, just take it. I'm not evil enough to charge people for this."
Jack sits down nearby, staring into the bowl. He grimaces as he tries to eat it. At least until another old but very human woman comes out of the tent next to them. She looks like she's going to ask the cook a question, until she sees Jack and exclaims something with grandmotherly horror.
Eddie lets the human woman fuss over Jack.
"What is this place?" she asks, finding a rickety wooden chair and tries to eat. It's horrible. Genuinely, actually the worst thing her refined palette has ever eaten. Her empty stomach reflexively tightens into a knott; she feels the gruel sticking at the bottom of her esophagus as gravity tries to make it permeate deeper.
It's food, however inedible. She can't stop eating it. Maybe after she's digested enough calories she can puke out the sludgy remnants before they cement to her stomach lining.
"The Emerald Grove, or the rest of us?" the woman asks.
"Both. Either."
The woman shrugs and continues to stir her cauldron. "Buncha druids holed up here. We were lucky to find it. The Archdruid Halsin let us in. He was a good one. We only intended to stay a spell, maybe trade for more supplies for the road. But more of us kept coming."
"From where?"
She spits to the side. "Elturel. Bastards; the lot of them exiled us after that whole Avernus debacle. We tieflings made for an easy target. 'Well, a demon porked something in your lineage, and we just had to fight off an Archdevil, so get out.' Pah!"
Avernus. Top layer of the Nine Hells. Eddie's mind recoils in unwanted memories from aboard the nautiloid. One moment she'd been in Baldur's Gate, the next some slithering, crawling thing had lifted her eyelid and wriggled its way past her tear duct.
Something happened. The ship took damage. It's blurry. Before it crashed she remembers looking out through a hole in the ship to a plane of fire and gagging from the smell of sulfur. Had the nautiloid jumped realities into Hell itself?
Then she'd gone deaf.
Then Jack had said her name and they were in Faerûn.
"Miss?" the tiefling asks.
Eddie numbly spoons the gruel into her mouth. "Elturel descended into Avernus. Something magical went wrong. There had been a refugee crisis. Then it appeared once more where it belongs. It was big news, but that was a short while ago."
"Yeah." The old woman scowls at nothing. "We made it out the other end. And then they threw us tieflings out once the panic had settled into prejudice. Zevlor figured we could make it to Baldur's Gate, so that's where we're headed. Until the whole, y'know…" She mimes something exploding.
Eddie's ears perk up with the realization. "You were going to Baldur's Gate?"
She nods. "Trying, yes. Then that big ship crashed yesterday. The local goblins were already a problem, but the scouts say that sent them crazy."
"No, I mean—we're between Baldur's Gate and Elturel? Do you know of a town called Moonhaven? Do you have a map?"
The old woman stares at Eddie. "How do you not know where we are? Actually, who are you? You're not one of us."
"I'm simply a traveler."
She looks down at Eddie's feet. "Without any boots? What, is your boy over there carrying you?"
Eddie looks over as the old human lady has Jack in her tent, handing him a potion. She's doting on him.
"We're searching for a healer," Eddie says.
The old woman eyes Eddie skeptically. "There's the druid, Nettie. Not that I would trust those druids."
"Agreed."
"Otherwise, Zevlor and that strange cleric he's been hanging with. Zevlor's a paladin, one of the old Hellrider knights from Elturel. And the cleric's a cleric."
Eddie steeples her fingers. "That kills two birds with one stone, potentially. Where can I find Zevlor?"
The old woman laughs once. "Hard to keep track of, that one. He'll work himself to an early grave. I'm not sure where he's gone."
"Who might?"
She gestures vaguely with her ladle. "A few people here and there. If you're in a pinch, then a fair bet is Molly."
Eddie finishes her gruel. It's a mushy thing even her stomach acid is hesitant to touch. "Molly. Where's she?"
"In your pockets." The woman scowls. "If she's not there, she will be. Eventually. Be patient either way. It's not like we're exactly going anywhere anytime soon. Unless the druids get their way, then we'll be dead."
Eddie sighs and sets her bowl next to a pile of others. "Excellent. No one knows where anyone else is. I thank you for the food, and then retract my thanks because you've been otherwise unhelpful. Due to no fault of your own I don't exactly have the time to be patient."
"Then why are you unthanking me? Is that even a thing you can do?"
Eddie is about to brush at her skirt until she realizes that will likely only make her and the clothes dirtier. "My gratitude is a precious resource. It's the kind of debt I pay. Do you take me for some floozy who offers it to everyone?"
"Thanks, Auntie Ethel," Jack says, waving back at the old human. He's carrying a little sack.
"Take care, petal," Auntie Ethel says. "Don't be a stranger now!"
Eddie snaps her fingers, leaving before anyone can stop her. "Jack, quit messing with the wildlife. We have a lead."
Jack follows after her. "Yo, hold your pretty horses. I actually got something for you."
She only slows a little bit, in part to hear him out, and because she's just walking in a random direction until someone tries to pickpocket her and reveals Molly. "What?"
He opens his little sack and takes out a pair of dusty hiking shoes, even with socks. They're small. Her size. "The nice lady asked if I needed anything. I said you needed shoes. I doubt they're to your haughty tastes, but better to shorn yourself than hoof it bare."
Eddie stares up at him for a moment. "What do you want?"
"Huh?"
"In exchange, Jack. Keep up. What do you want in exchange for them?"
"Will you be nice to me?"
"Out of the question," she says quickly.
Jack laughs. "Worth it a shot. But no, they're a gift. One way or another we're in this shit together. You stuck by me for the harpies and druids. Figured I should return the favor."
Her face sours. "Oh, that's agreeable: you're attempting to repay your debt. I owe you nothing."
"Whatever helps you sleep at night," he sighs.
Eddie sits on a rock and puts them off. Her feet are filthy, the soles blackened from walking. With blisters that sting against the shoes. She shudders as she reorientates her mind to cope passively with the pain. They are, bizarrely, exactly her size. Ugly little things with a grippy sole.
When she looks up from her shoes, he's holding out a bottle of something red. The slightly viscous liquid settling against the glass. She recognizes it as a healing potion and takes it without thinking.
It helps with the scabs and wounds.
"I feel a touch on the mend, at least," she says.
"My touch would seal the deal."
"Do not, paladin," Eddie warns.
He rolls his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Boundaries and all that."
Eddie nods to herself. "Good. Now, we need to wander around until someone tries to pickpocket us. That's how we'll find Molly, who knows where Zevlor is. The man has some cleric in his entourage. Failing that, we sort him and the refugees out and we might be able to grovel for the druidic healer Nettie to aid us."
Just as soon as that's taken care of, she can see if someone has a map. Someone able to point her to the old town Moonhaven, if it's anywhere near here.
"Sounds like you got a plan, Eddie."
"Just fall in line and I'll work it all out, boy. Now come. We have errands to run."