Elyvia had apparently managed to get a meeting with Lady Moonfire alone. In a private dining room, Elyvia was happy to divulge, at least part of the contents of the meeting—namely, that Moonfire had already been planning to send a delegate to the stone giants to set up possible peace talks.

She said, "And since things will be a little stretched thin with Uthgardt attacking the roads, she wants to send us." A pause. "We will be being paid of course."

We all agreed that it was a good opportunity to find out what was going on, why they were attacking to begin with, but Elyvia also said that the Zhentarim wanted to scout the area, and said, a bit sourly, that they were likely to want to lead the expedition.

Terese glared. "Andrews will absolutely ruin any possible peace talks."

I held my tongue and reached for my cup. No one noticed my discomfort.

Elyvia said, "I believe I can make a convincing case to leave the Zhents out of it."

But right now, the entire town was readying for a festival, and if the town's leaders were not ready to send delegates, we couldn't exactly take that upon ourselves. Most of us wanted to see the festivities.

Terese passed the next few days working. Elyvia disappeared to somewhere. I saw Lola on occasion, but it seemed like she was idling the time with study and tutelage. Paton interviewed people around town.

Not really knowing what to do with myself, I decided to volunteer helping prepare for the festivals, so I learned quite a bit about what they actually were and the kinds of things I might expect. Terese and Elyvia had signed up for the tournament. I was entering a couple of the more minor games. We sold the jewelry to some of the traders who had come in for the festival, divided the money between us.

At night, I snooped around the docks, and found what looked like a local Zhentarim chapter, and a ship with their colors, or lack thereof. No sign of Reyne.

On my way back to the inn, someone fell into step beside me. I had not seen where they came from and I jumped practically out of my skin at their step, then I stepped back in fear as I saw them.

The devil looked the same as before. The same feathered hooked wings, the silver gilt on horns, hooks, and hooves, even the teeth. Decorated in silver-gilded bone jewelry. This time, the devil wore their effeminate form, the lowest of the tiered necklaces with a tear-drop shaped jeweled bone nestled at the top of her cleavage. I had no doubt it was the same creature, just trying on a different form to see if I were any more amenable to this one.

I shook my head. "No. I'm not interested. Go away," I said. I turned down a side street. She followed at a leisurely pace. My fingers clenched. "I said no."

She replied, her voice a purr, "Oh, darling. Look all around you. You're looking at a war ahead. Couldn't you use a little help?"

A turn put me in one of the thousand little grottos around the town. I could escape by climbing, but now the succubus stood between me and the main exit. I turned around.

She looked around. "Picturesque, isn't it?" she said.

My eyebrows knitted together, pleading. "What do you want? We can just discuss it now, decide if it's even a possibility, and you can leave. Don't you have anything better to do?"

She reached out. One gloved fingertip touched my cheekbone. I glared. She said, "I could whisk away the name, right there. I could keep you from him."

My teeth gritted and I stepped back. Doing so was an act of sheer will. It was so hard not to step into her touch. "I'll make do on my own. Thanks."

She smiled. "You've become so independent. So determined." Her entirely black eyes shone like embers. "You think you can do it all on your own."

I glared. "Leave."

She laughed. "You may come to regret spurning me. In time. I will let you think on it." She smiled pleasantly. "And if you have need of me, my name is Linnaeus." She looked at me under long lashes. "Given to me by mortals when I was a pathetic little muse. I keep it still."

"I'll remember it so I can never speak it," I snapped. "Leave me alone."

Her wings rose and seemed to bleed into the dark shadows. They all but swallowed her and she was gone, leaving only a scent like sulfur behind.

Linnaeus was not going to add me to its collection of souls. I was going to be eaten by a devil, of that I had no doubt, but I wasn't going to willingly resign myself to that fate. They couldn't have me of my own free will.

In this, at least, I had a choice.

#

I had never really been a part of a festival. When I had been in Bryn Shandor, the festival had been annihilated before any real festivities could begin. Here, it felt peaceful. I saw some increased Zhentarim presence, but I suppose that was to be expected with Orlbar so close.

At the opening ceremony, Lord Telbor and Lady Moonfire gave a speech about generic subjects of unity and peace, coming together, then they welcomed their neighbors—Reyne and his retinue of black cloaked soldiers. Reyne bowed, thanked them for being so inviting. Making noises about how he was glad to strengthen their alliance.

Everyone laid down weapons on the ground, offering prayers to their respective gods that they would not need them in the next year. So did Reyne. Some part of me really felt that if something was going to happen, a bloody coup for instance, then it would happen now. My own anxiety was giving me visions that I thought had to be false, because I saw nothing out of place, and I had looked all day.

Spells made flowered vines curl around each weapon, as if the gods really heard and answered prayers. But it was just a spell.

I thought about the giants, about all that was going on, and I knew it would be one prayer that went unanswered. One among thousands more that fell on deaf ears.

How many slaves prayed for deliverance? And if any god had a hand in mine, how cruel of them to offer it to the one who spurned all the deities, instead of someone devout.

The vines curled back and weapons were collected again.

I had declined participation, watching the whole thing from the boughs of a tree. And here I had thought he was scheming and something would happen during the ceremony. I was just glad the false visions would stop.

My eyes narrowed as Reyne walked away. Or had something happened?

It didn't occur to me until after I had won the swimming contest that I had just displayed a lot of some of my more shameful tattoos to the general public. Oh well. No one said anything about it. People were in general too polite or awkward to mention such things, but I knew they probably stared. Hard to say if it was at me or just the markings though; tieflings had a lot of physical traits that others didn't.

I was a little winded by the time I made it to what the locals called the "tree dash". I didn't win that one, but I still thought the obstacle course, twenty feet off the ground, was a lot of fun to run and climb.

Both of those out of the way by noon, I devoted myself to exploring the stalls and sampling food—and more than my fair share of drink.

Paton and Lola found me and the three of us wandered from competition to bard and back, enjoying the games. I bought a small, useless trinket at a stall—a small key eternally burning, but which posed no threat to a tiefling. I liked the look of it.

Lola said, "You know, Val, you absolutely look like a villain."

I rolled my eyes. "Say that again, and I'll steal your hat."

She laughed uproariously and I bought her another mug of mead.

Elyvia waved to us, kind of glowing with an air of smug pride. A blue ribbon was pinned to her chest. She said, "Won the archery competition."

I wasn't terribly surprised by that, but I am not half as petty as she is, so I congratulated her. Lola said, "Mr. Valac won the swimming competition."

"Surprised a devil can swim," Elyvia said. There didn't seem to be as much venom in her voice today, and I let the comment go. With the drink flowing in me, I thought, maybe I can't be as callous as the people around me. Maybe they can't live up to the standards I give myself. Maybe a part of me just can't bear to meet them where they are, but wants to try to raise them up. But what I could do is understand, and try to learn not to be condescending about it.

We went to go cheer on Terese in the tourney. There were a variety of contestants in the big tourney, and it was lauded by the largest crowd with free food and drink. An announcer gave an introduction to each of the contestants. Reyne was among them. My heart sank a little, but I was determined to ignore him, the way he ignored me.

Was that immature of him?

No. For some people, once you were no longer lovers, the other stopped existing—and maybe that was better than pining.

I cheered for Terese, and I cheered for Stewart Rein. All three moved on past the first archery competition, down to twelve contestants. Then they progressed to a series of ring jousting, mounted archery, and dueling.

It was an intense series of contests, and Terese did very well in them. But so did Reyne, and he didn't even use his summoned horse. It would be so much easier to call him a cheat.

The final scores were posted and the two finalists announced—Terese Calvin and Reyne Andrews. The gods of fate had a sense of drama, or maybe just a sense of humor.

She was chomping at the bit to beat him, overeager. I went to congratulate her, offer her wine, but she wanted to keep a clear head and only took water, stretching, readying herself for the bout.

Out of the corner of my eye, across the tilt, Reyne was having a laugh with his fellows. He did not even look at his next opponent. He exuded confidence, and in the dappled sunlight, sweat on his brow, he looked as good as I remembered. Rugged and handsome, and despised by all the people now around me.

If your lover is hated by all your friends—one of the two is shitty. But Reyne wasn't my lover, and I was still trying to wrap my head around friendship. I wanted to be a better friend to Aela and Talia too.

What was I going to tell Talia about missing my own party? Maybe she would understand.

Terese said, "I am going to wipe that cocky smirk right off his fucking face."

Doubt it. Aloud, I said, "Oh, he'd find a way to be a smug loser too."

The others laughed. Even Elyvia, a little drunk, was laughing. For a moment, I felt good about it, like I was fitting in, then I felt guilty; I was fitting in at the cost of mocking someone else. Was that the kind of person I wanted to be? I didn't want more introspection or self-doubt.

I took another drink and the crowd was called back. The first round was archery. Each of them had to run to a bow and a quiver, put three arrows in the target, then get back to their horses for the tilt. The first one to finish had more time to ready themselves between the dash and the tilt. It was difficult to do in as much armor as both of them were wearing—but I knew Reyne could.

An announcer talked up both of them.

Lord Captain Reyne Andrews, a noble heir to his family name. Won his first tourney at fifteen summers, shortly after he was knighted in… I almost laughed. Reyne had given his elder brother's story, not his own, to the announcer. For an instant, all I wanted to do was find him afterwards and laugh about it, then I remembered how he looked at me. I was probably the only one here who even understood the joke.

I guess "wanted to be a painter" and "hates the joust" didn't exactly paint him or the Zhentarim in the best light. I thought, It should be his brother here. Not Reyne.

And Reyne knew that. He knew that every instant of every day, and my heart broke all over again for him.

Terese's I at least knew was truthful; a Loudwater native and proud city guard. This would be her first tourney. The announcer finished, "But can she win her first tourney?"

The crowd adored her. She was a local, a young upstart going up against an experienced veteran and the crowd loved an underdog. Despite that, Reyne was courtly and practiced, and knew how to impress. The nobility preferred him, even if the commons liked her. He threw a rose to a highborn girl under a canopy. He stood just so in the dappled sunlight so his damned aasimar heritage made him seem to glow like a celestial and I knew he won over at least one more admirer.

They ran. Neither were exactly faster than the other and they reached the bows and quivers at about the same time.

Reyne hit the target with his first three shots and turned, dropping the bow. Terese missed with one and had to draw another, but she was nearly dead-center with the last shot. A squire held Terese's horse ready and she all but threw herself into the saddle. She snatched up her helmet. Someone handed her a lance and shield. She wheeled the horse about to the tilt.

People died in this. Reyne's brother died doing this.

The horses thundered toward one another. Reyne's lance broke on her shoulder, but Terese stayed on the horse, somehow recovering and knocking him clean out of the saddle. I gasped. He landed hard on his side. Elyvia laughed. I couldn't breathe, until he got up, rolled to his feet. He gave a dim nod and broke for the circle.

This was where I thought Terese would fail. I had seen both of them fight. What chance did she have?

But she had knocked him off his horse.

But he had won the archery portion, and did still score a point on her. I wasn't sure. It was a close match so far, and the crowd was excited. They loved the drama of the scene, two warriors who seemed almost evenly matched. Terese, in her shiny steel gray armor, Reyne in his Zhentarim black. A commoner against a knighted noble. Everyone was cheering, at the edge of their seats.

To Terese, to our small group, it was like a battle between the good gods she worshiped, and Bane.

She took her greatsword and strode onto the circle. It was not too often that each had the same weapon preference. I remembered how Reyne had handicapped himself for me. Wasn't doing it here though.

A part of me wondered, if I had gotten this far, if he would have gotten a shield. I wished I could say that he would have, but I knew he wouldn't.

As they began, they each had slightly different styles, probably picked up from different places. Reyne had learned among the Zhentarim, and Loudwater was a settlement of half-elves that had developed their own fighting styles. It was interesting to see, and Terese did seem to be doing well, at first. Reyne never used magic, not that I could tell, but the tide turned.

I knew they were talking to one another as they exchanged blows, but I could not hear it from here, above the cheering of the crowds.

Reyne moved in with a flurry she could not keep up with. She had to give ground or risk a nasty blow. He did not blunt his attacks. He was still angry about his slaughtered men.

Reyne must have told her to yield. He was beating her. She was going on the defensive when her sword was not meant to defend and he knew it. She pushed back suddenly, violently, furious and angry. The crowd roared their approval.

It was entirely ineffective. A good show, one that Reyne probably played up to make his own victory all the sweeter when he ended it with a cruel sideward blow of the tourney sword. She crashed to the ground, and did not get up. Healers rushed forward to help her. The ignorant crowd cheered for this paladin of Bane.

Reyne offered her a hand up, for all the world smiling gently. Sunlight collected around him like a saint. He knew what it would look like to the crowd if she refused his hand. Still, her pride would not allow it, and she risked the social damage to herself, the credit it would do him, for that pride. She stood of her own power, quivering with barely contained anger.

He addressed the crowd in a booming voice. "I wish my victory to signify an alliance between Orlbar and Loudwater. Let our two communities benefit one another and flourish."

Elyvia's teeth gritted. "That miserable cur."

There was nothing wrong with what he said. We were only a few days' ride apart, and trade partners. Shouldn't the two communities support each other? But they couldn't see past his religious choices.

I think, to some people, those things were paramount. I looked more at what a person did, and I didn't much care for their motivations, only the deed; Reyne helped me with the werewolves and with Malar. What else mattered?

The others left to make themselves presentable for the ball. I was going to miss it entirely until Lola commented that there was free food and drink.

I looked back at the crowd, saw the people congratulating the champion. Reyne was smiling.

He had a gorgeous smile.

#

Terese was wearing some kind of formalwear from her guard uniforms. I think I'd die of shock if she was ever in a skirt. Elyvia had braided her hair and bathed, dressed up her usual forest attire by applying some unevenly layered green skirt. Lola was in more formal wizard robes. Paton wore a set of clerical robes he looked quite comfortable in.

Nothing was going to convince me to put effort in. I was going to hang out in the courtyard, drink, and grab food. I munched on a rabbit skewer, downed a pint of ale, and climbed one of the monstrous trees in the courtyard, to nestle in and watch the festival-goers in their finery. I liked seeing the costumes, but these kinds of parties gave me a knot of anxiety in my insides.

I did not even notice the elf walk to the bottom of the tree. "What are you doing up there, crimson one?" She was smiling softly.

I almost fell out of the tree, which made her laugh. I climbed down to apologize for not seeing her, and she apologized for startling me. She offered her hand, and insisted we dance.

I said, "I won't be good at it."

"That's all right. I am."

I must have stepped on her feet, but she just laughed and guided me about the dance floor. She must have told me her name, but I had forgotten it in her warm eyes. The more I thought about her, how pretty she was, the sweet sound of her voice, the less I thought about what I was doing and the better dance partner I became. She stepped back. I raised my arm for her to spin under it, and happened to look past her. Reyne had clearly not intended for me to see him watching, for he looked away as soon as our eyes met, but his expression—of disgust—was as bad as a knife to the belly.

At the end of the dance, I said, "There's an old friend here I haven't seen in a while. I should go talk to him. Can I find you again?"

She said she would be with her friends, and nodded to another group of out-of-town elves socializing. Her hand lingered in mine. I almost missed the cue to kiss it, then raised her hand to my lips. She smiled, and kept smiling all the way back to her friends.

I went the long way around the dance floor, along the wall, almost hoping that something would happen and I wouldn't make it there. Reyne had his back to me, which was the only reason I had enough courage to get close enough for him to even hear me. I said, "Reyne… Captain," I said, as if correcting myself.

I could almost hear his eyes rolling. He turned, slowly. The light and amusement that had been apparent speaking to others faded when he saw me. "What?"

I almost lost my nerve. I wanted to flee back into the courtyard. To leave the area entirely. I didn't belong here. I didn't belong anywhere.

The collar felt like it was choking me.

From somewhere, I dredged up courage. I said, "Can I talk to you?"

He sighed, and waved off his underlings. He inclined his head toward the bar and I followed him toward it. He waved at the bartender, who poured two shots. He set one in front of me. I reached for the glass. I said, "Can't talk to me without a drink?"

"It might make the inevitable condescension more tolerable." He took the shot, then set it down. "What do you want, tiefling?"

I tried not to flinch at his words, and downed the whisky instead. I made a face, then set the glass on the bar with a clink. "To apologize."

He stared, one eyebrow quirked, waiting for me to continue.

I took a breath. I could smell his cologne. "I have a lot to apologize for." I couldn't bear to keep looking at his face, so I stared down. "I'm sorry about the base camp."

His lips curled in a sneer. "Oh, when you murdered my men and ransacked the camp?" It was too loud for anyone to hear him say that. He leaned against the bar. "Again."

I flinched. "That wasn't me."

"Just your friends. You know, Valac, I don't see much difference. It's not like you cut ties with them immediately, is it."

I lifted my head, but stared upwards instead. I fought despair and anger, stuffing them both down with a disassociated indifference I had had to learn in Thay. "I tried to save who I could." I swallowed. "The first time, it was spiders—you saw that yourself; there weren't any bodies." My teeth clenched. "This time, it was a manticore that took the wounded." I swallowed. I couldn't give away that woman that had fled. "It was horrible." Elyvia had laughed.

He searched my face for any sign of false sincerity. "Well. Valac. Do you remember what I said the last time?"

I flinched. "Yes, sir." The words spilled out of my mouth before I could think about what I was saying.

He smirked. "Then you remember what I want." He tilted his head. "Your little group has been put forth as the best suited of Loudwater to go to Deadstone Cleft." A pause. "Whether I or mine go or not, I want you to give me a full report of whatever you find there. And then I will consider the debt paid."

I watched him, his motions, the cocky smirk as he knew he had me. This wasn't all I had wanted to apologize for, but I didn't have the stomach to continue with conversation. I said, "I see. Let me think about it." I started to turn.

He caught my arm. It wasn't friendly. He leaned in close. I could smell his cologne. "All I have to do is tell the Lord and Lady of Loudwater what you and your friends did to my men. Or if I want to manage it myself… The Frontier is vast and dangerous. People die out here all the time."

I looked down, pliable. "I see."

His grip loosened and he let me go.

I looked back. He had not yet stepped away, and he was close enough to kiss. He was so handsome that it hurt to look at him. And he had the cocky air of one who knew it. Half the women here must have propositioned him. I would've enjoyed watching him shoot each one of them down. "Reyne. Whatever made you this cruel and manipulative, I wish it hadn't." And I did wish that, fervently. I wished, and wondered what he would be like if he had never learned cruelty or manipulation. And I wished everyone could have grown up with enough kindness and compassion that they didn't learn cruelty.

Whatever he had been expecting me to say, that wasn't it. He looked disgusted again. It wasn't better than the heat of his anger. He stepped back. He didn't need to hurl an insult at me or even reply; it was plastered all over his face and it cut like a knife. I wish he'd just hit me. It would be better than the hate and the disgust.

All I could do was walk away, and wish that had gone better. I had only made it worse. There was a rift between us, and I had kept chipping at it thinking I could bridge it. I ached when I could no longer smell his cologne.

I tried to go back to where I was with that elf woman, but she said, "I was watching you talk to him. The champion." She inclined her head. "It looked heated."

I shook my head and flashed a smile. "Don't worry about it."

She frowned. She was far older than I and shrewd. She said, "Valac. I saw the way he looks at you."

With utter loathing? "What?"
She raised an eyebrow. "And the way you look at him." She smiled. She was kind and good, and in her I could find what I wanted, I was sure of it. "Your lives are too short to perform such a long dance."

There was the elven condescension I knew. My heart fell. "You're wrong."

She looked sad to hear me deny it. "Am I?"

I took a breath. Her perfume was sweet. "Would you dance with me again?"

Her eyes flicked toward Reyne. "I think if you asked him, he'd dance with you." Her eyes were gentle. Her hands were soft as they held one of mine. She squeezed gently, and seemed to lament leaving me, but she did.

I wasn't going to ask Reyne to dance. She was wrong and I had seen the look in his eyes when he spoke to me. I couldn't bear to be here any longer.

The town was quiet with the party going on. I wandered for a while, then my frustration with Reyne reached a point where snooping sounded like a good idea.

I crept around the docks and managed to sneak onto the Zhentarim ship through a porthole. It was mostly just trade goods, nothing illicit. No evidence of their Bane worship, nothing untoward. I couldn't get into the captain's quarters with the patrolling guard. I just made it out before being caught.

I was irritated at my lack of news, at my inability to do anything. I hadn't even really wanted to travel with those people again, not after last time—but Reyne had just strongarmed me into it. And they would rather risk his wrath than succumb. And I didn't want them to get hurt.

So now what?

I went back to the castle, but because Terese had learned earlier in the day that Reyne was staying there, as a delegate. She had mentioned it only because it infuriated her.

I wanted to break into his room to find—oh, any evidence at all of what the others kept claiming about him. And maybe because I was angry that he had threatened me.

It wasn't as hard as I had first assumed. It would have been, except that I slipped back into the party to wander a bit, and found Zhentarim guards. I avoided that area and got outside. I climbed into a tree, then tossed up the grappling hook. I swung across, then climbed up, my tail flicking down to pull the rope up behind me. I didn't know which room was his, but I could make an assumption based on his rank; it would be the one with the largest and most decorated balcony. Thing about glass doors is that they were easy to pick, and the warm night left windows open. Maybe he just had nothing to hide.

I got in through the door with minimal effort. It was hard to say if it was his, at first, aside from that it was obviously used, if cleaned daily, then I found his armor on a stand. My fingertips touched the emblem on the breastplate, then I pulled back with a flinch. So I had regrets. So what?

I turned from it, scanning the room. It was dark, but it was late, and the party might be dying down soon. I should be quick.

I checked the wardrobe, the dresser, the desk. There were a few letters of correspondence. I was good at deciphering coded messages, for a lot of reasons, but these were too vague to even have codes. Just updates on operations. I assumed he burned anything about scout movement, especially right now.

A hand on the door handle. A black gauntlet.

I lifted my head from the desk. I shut the drawer and hurried to the balcony door. I closed it behind me. I heard the door open, saw a sliver of light through the curtain. I didn't have time to lock it behind me. I looked one way and the next. There was a guard patrolling the garden below. My teeth gritted. I looked at the tree, then threw the grappling hook across. It caught. I gave it a yank, then jumped off the balcony.

Most people, by habit, do not look up. The guard was similar, and I swung right over his head, and he never looked up.

The room lit, a soft flickering candlelight. The rope creaked and I sprang upward, yanking it up behind me. I straddled a tree branch, staring through the leaves across, at the balcony. If he pulled back the curtain, I was certain he'd see me. The candle created a backlight against the curtain. There were two people. I should be happy for him, but I was only somewhere between numb and jealous.

I looked back down at the guard. Once they rounded the corner, I climbed down and crept back into the public area of the courtyard. I wandered out with the crowd of vacating guests. I managed to not find that elf then either. I don't know what I would have told her.