FSE

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*****

Chapter Fifty Seven

*****

Mirelle sat in a comfortable chair, in warm sunshine, several days after her meeting with Rekrek. With her friends’ help, she’d moved back into her own home. She was thankful her house survived. There were holes in the roof to patch and walls to repair, but no major damage. Doctors’ orders required her to rest, but Mirelle planned to get things done nonetheless. A table from her living room now sat in her garden, layered with stacks of paperwork weighted down by stones. Books of figures and reports on the battle were piled around her, along with lists of the fallen, contracts for rebuilding, and a thousand other things to work through. Nearby sat the book Enora gave her. She still hadn’t finished it.

With a sigh, Mirelle gazed around what was left of her private land. Her springs remained, gently burbling. The furthest one now oozed black water. Mirelle planned to have it drained, in the hopes that it might someday bubble up clean again. Otherwise she’d have to have the damn thing filled. At least the top two springs were still clear, and fresh. Little fish darted under lily pads and made circles on the water.

Beyond the springs, a small sea of golden sand stretched across much of her yard. The winds from the storms that preceded their battle had stirred it into lines of tiny dunes, like waves frozen on a gold ocean. Maybe she could have the sand donated to a children’s play area.

In a far corner, Kurekka dozed in the sun. Stitches and bald patches in his fur and plumage marked his body. He looked like a fledging just getting in his first adult feathers. Because of his wings, the surgeons had a very difficult time bandaging the wound in his ribs. They’d made do with stitching it tight, and forbidding him from doing anything that might expose it to dirt or any other contaminants. Each day they cleaned the area around the stitches with astringent spirits.

Mirelle let the gryphons stay on her land to recover away from prying eyes. Though the whole town wanted to see the heroic gryphons that helped save them, Mirelle asked her people to wait. She wanted to give her new allies time to heal up without being gawked at. Chir’raal was supposed to be resting too, but stitches did not stop him from insisting on hunting for his mate.

An ugly gap stood out in her line of towering pines and ferns. Through the space, she could almost see to the street if not for The Cathedral’s broken walls standing in the way. Her poor tavern. Between a crashing dragon and a furious demigod, it was a wonder the rest of the place hadn’t just collapsed. Though she knew it would soon be torn down, she had little room left in her heart for any more pain. If anything, she just felt numb to its loss. She hoped that someday, she could afford to rebuilt.

Granted, rebuilding her own bar was at the bottom of her list of priorities. First she had to ensure their courageous wounded, and the bereaved families were taken care of. Homes and businesses needed to be repaired and rebuilt, the walls around the city fixed and strengthened, and a new council hall planned and constructed. All that was before she even got into grander and more comprehensive forms like negotiation with, and integration of, the va’chaak.

Mirelle turned her chair. In the distance, she could just see the pointed tips of the palisade logs peeking over trees and rooftops. Coils of smoke rose beyond them from cooking fires where the va’chaak now camped. The night before, the va’chaak held a mass funeral at dusk, with immense pyres for all their dead. The firelight danced across the marsh for hours. Howls and songs of mourning echoed over the village most of the night. Today, Rekrek sent a portion of them to return home, to bring news of both loss and hope.

The village was burying its dead, too. Mirelle let families decide how best to deal with their loved ones’ remains whenever possible. Many families held private funerals. Each evening, the city held a public vigil. Names were read aloud and carved into limestone blocks displayed in the center of town. While they counted their dead, Mirelle wanted a place set aside for remembrances. A place where people could leave flowers, letters, gifts, or just share their tears with other grieving families.

While bitterness and resentment towards the va’chaak was still high, it was not as bad as she feared. Mirelle hoped such feelings would fade sooner than later for both sides. Va’chaak healers remained in the city, helping with continued care for the seriously wounded. She kept them under guard, but that was as much to discourage retaliation as anything else. Mirelle wanted it made clear that they were all bound to a truce now.

Rekrek’s attempts to further her ideals in the wake of her supposed death spawned stories of va’chaak healers helping to save human lives, and sobbing loved ones tearfully thanking the understandably nervous lizards. Her own people brought medicines and supplies the va’chaak battle surgeons did not have, and in turn they helped to save some injured warriors as well. One of the books on her table was filled with such stories. She wanted to gather as many as she could, to help paint a brighter picture for each side.

It didn’t hurt that Tavaat was something of a local hero, now. Plenty of the town already knew him, recognized him. The fact that he’d fought side by side with all their soldiers certainly stuck out to people. Mirelle didn’t want to exploit her friend, but if his bravery and heroism helped the rest of the town become more accepting of his people, she’d happily take it.

After her meeting with Rekrek, he withdrew his people from the fishing village, where Mirelle first met Asterbury. Mirelle made it clear that she expected Rekrek’s people to help rebuild that place. She also expected them to pay for the damages they incurred, and to return or replace things looted. Rekrek seemed agreeable. Mirelle hoped such overtures would help heal a few wounds in the long run.

Feathered wing beats drew Mirelle’s attention. The sound was increasingly familiar lately, though there was something different about them. Mirelle blinked and tilted her head back, shielding her eyes from the sun with her left hand. She thought it was Chir’raal returning from his hunting trip, but…she heard two sets of wing beats. Had he found another gryphon? She dropped her hand and called out to the dozing creature nearby.

“Kurekka!”

The red-brown gryphon lifted his head from his forepaws, blinking hazel-green eyes. Mirelle tapped her ear and pointed to the sky. Kurekka perked his own ears, tilting his head. Then he pushed himself to his feet and limped over to her, his scarlet crown feathers half on display.

“Those aren’t Chir’raal’s wing beats.” He lifted up his wing, glancing at the dark stitches holding his pink skin together. The wound looked good, still clean, with little hint of worrying redness. “Maybe I should go up and-”

“You’re not flying.” Mirelle pushed herself out her chair, grimacing. “Where’d I leave my maul?”

“If I’m not flying, you’re not swinging your maul around. Sit back down.”

“Shush, Patches.” Mirelle scanned the sky as the dual wingbeats grew steadily louder. “I’m not swinging anything around. I just want to be ready. Do you know any other gryphons in the area?”

“A few. Most of them are far out into the marsh. There’s a few scattered clans out there, but…most of them are an awfully long way from here.” He clacked his beak, ruffling his wings. “Though it depends which direction you go. And I’ve been living with Enora for years, so I could be wrong.”

“That’s an awful lot of words to say ‘no’.” Mirelle dropped her hand down.

In the distance, Mirelle heard shouts from guards with better vantage than she. They were too far away to tell if they seemed genuinely alarmed or just giving notice there were gryphons incoming. Mirelle took a few steps towards the Cathedral, only for Kurekka to bar her way.

“You’re not going anywhere. You sit back down.” He turned and nudged her with his feathered head, brushing his beak against her blue and gold clothes. “If you’re needed, they’ll come and get you.”

Mirelle sighed. Her throbbing ribs and aching wrist told her Kurekka was right. She settled back into her chair, giving him a half-hearted glare. “What if they have hostile intent?”

“Then your people will handle them best they can. You and your knife wound and your broken arm will only be in the way.” He clacked his beak in front of her face, then settled on his haunches just in front of her to make sure she couldn’t get back up.

Mirelle lifted her arm, showing him her splint. “That’s a broken wrist, thank you very much! And I’ll have you know the doctors think I should regain almost complete range of motion.”

“And when you do you can go off to battle again. Till then…” He swished his feathered tail against the grass. “You stay right there.”

The unknown gryphons soon came into view, sweeping over the outer wall. Mirelle tipped her head back, watching them circle above the rooftops. Both gryphons were female, similar in size to Chir’raal and Kurekka. One was colored almost entirely in shades of gray, darkest across her wings. The other one bore colors much like a bluejay, with powder blue across her face, white tips to her wings, and darker blues everywhere else. And both gryphons carried riders. The gray one’s riders were small, and furry.

“Your eyesight is probably better than mine. The gray one…” Mirelle glanced at Kurekka, her face scrunched. “Are those urd’thin on her back?”

“Sure looks like it.”

“Then please tell me neither of them is Asterbury.”

“No.” Kurekka warbled and shook his head. “Besides, I think you may be more interested in her rider.” Kurekka flicked a claw out towards the blue gryphon.

Mirelle tried to get a good look at the indigo gryphon’s rider as they spiraled towards the city. The rider on the blue gryphon was larger, definitely human. He pointed to the ground, and the two gryphons swept down over the street in front of The Cathedral. Just before they vanished from view, Mirelle got a clearer look at the passenger. He was an older man, with gray hair. With a beard.

“No Gods-damn way.” Mirelle stood back up, her jaw dropping. “If that’s Jekk, I’ll-”

“Whatever declaration you’re about to make, I’d stop right there.” Kurekka eased back to his feet. “Because I suspect you’d have to do it. In light of this new circumstances, I shall rescind my travel ban. Come on, you can lean on me.”

“You say that like you don’t need someone to lean on.” Mirelle put her splinted arm over the back of the gryphon’s shoulders. She settled her weight against him, taking slow steps towards the gap in the trees.

“I do, and don’t think Chir’raal won’t hear about it when he returns.” He chirruped and glanced back at her, smiling. “In the meantime I shall be forced to support the both of us. I don’t think your city would appreciate it if I accidentally crushed you.”

As they neared the back doors to what was left of the Cathedral, Beka ran outside. She wore a pretty green dress, with the city’s emblem sewn in at the shoulders. An immense smile brightened her face, and her reddish brown pony tail bobbled as she hurried across the yard.

“Mirelle! Mirelle! You’ll never guess who’s here!”

Behind Beka, a dozen armored guards shuffled about inside the ruined tavern. Whether she liked it or not, Mirelle had a protective detail now. At least they gave her some space. Thanks to the arrival of the new gryphons, her bodyguards all had steel drawn and arrows nocked. As heartening as their quick reaction was, Mirelle had a sneaking suspicion it wasn’t necessary.

Mirelle raised her voice, gesturing for Beka to move aside. “Stand down, in there! If…wait.” She trailed off, glancing at Beka. “They’re not holding him hostage, are they?”

Beka giggled, shaking her head. “So you already know who it is?”

Mirelle glanced at her friend, gave a single nod, and then turned her attention to the back entryway. Her guards made way inside the ruined tavern. They lifted their swords in salute as an old man in grimy clothes with frazzled gray hair and a dirty gray beard walked past them. Someone pointed, and he headed towards the back door. Both female gryphons followed him, one still with two urd’thin riders.

In her mind, Mirelle had it all mapped out. She’d play it cool, give the old man a polite smile and a bow, and welcome him back to her village. But the moment Jekk emerged into the sunlight again, shading his eyes with a liver-spotted hand, Mirelle threw her arms around his bony shoulders.

“Jekk!” Mirelle hugged him tight, injuries be damned. “Jekk, you’re alive! I…I can’t believe I’m saying that like it’s a good thing!”

Jekk gave a rough laugh, wrapping his arms gingerly around her to return her hug. “Yes, it’s nice to see you’re not dead, too.” He pulled back and squeezed her shoulder, smiling. “This place is a mess, though. You should get it cleaned up.”

Mirelle eased back, laughing. “You should get yourself cleaned up, old man. You smell like a swamp.” She turned her gaze over to the gryphons who’d carried him here, and the urd’thin who accompanied him. “So…why aren’t you dead? And…Revaramek.” She swallowed, and glanced away. “I didn’t expect to see either of you again.”

“You’d rather it was him, who made it back.” Jekk took her hand, patting it. “I understand, Mirelle.”

“No, it’s not that.” Mirelle appreciated the gesture, and took a breath to help keep herself under control. “I knew he wasn’t coming back. But…” A baffled laugh escaped her. “What the hell happened?”

“That is a very long story. Suffice it to say, for the moment…” He held up a hand. “That our resplendent associate’s plan worked, and in the process I ended up stranded in the marsh.” He waved his hand at the two gryphon-riding urd’thin. “Managed to make my way to an urd’thin village.” Jekk smiled, and said something to the two small, furry creatures in a language she couldn’t understand. They both laughed. “As it turns out, they happened to have an alliance of sorts with a few gryphons.”

Mirelle gaped at him. “You speak urd’thin?” That was almost as baffling as his survival.

“Not as well as I should. But as Head Councilwoman, I suggest you learn to speak a few more languages. It’ll make negotiating trade treaties that much easier.”

“I’m not sure if I should laugh or slap you.” Mirelle settled for punching the old man on the shoulder with her good hand.

Nearby, Kurekka limped up, and struck up a conversation with the two female gryphons. As the urd’thin dismounted, all three gryphons settled on their haunches. Soon they were chatting away in the gryphon tongue while the females preened their wings after their flight. One of them waved a paw at Jekk, and all three of them laughed.

The old man scrunched his face. “Now that one, I don’t speak. Probably for the best.”

The two urd’thin strode over, one male, and one female. Both had fluffy brown fur, with the male’s fur darkest. Each had braids in their fur, along with little emblems woven in around their necks. The female had colorful ribbons tied around her horns. They both had dark green clothing with more pockets and pouches than Mirelle had ever seen adorning a single creature in all her life.

“Hello!” The male urd’thin walked up alongside Jekk. “I called Rogma.” He pointed to the female, who came to stand next to him. “This Lim.”

Lim pointed up at Jekk’s face, her big ears perked. “This old man belong you, yes?”

Mirelle burst out laughing, and Jekk glowered down at Lim. “I keep telling you, I don’t belong to her. I mistranslate one little-”

Rogma poked at Jekk’s clothes, his brown-furred muzzle split wide with a grin. “We find old man wander swamp. He tell us, he belong to woman who rule village, so we bring back or she be very mad.”

Jekk folded his arms, muttering. “My urd’thin may be a little rusty. I think I accidentally told them I was your property when I was trying to tell them I was your ally. They won’t let me live it down.”

Lim giggled, her tail twitching. “He promise big reward.” She waved at Rogma. “We traders. Merchants! So we like big reward.” She leaned over, peering past Mirelle. “You have much sand in yard. Where you find sand in marsh? From riverbed?”

Mirelle smirked at Jekk, unable to help herself. “This old man definitely belongs to me. So thank you for bringing him back safely. As for your reward, I’ll see it’s more than fair.” She glanced over her shoulder at the sand, scrunching her face. “Not exactly.” She gazed down at the small creatures. “So…you two are merchants?”

“Yes.” Rogma swiveled his ears, glancing at Lim. She nodded and he smiled. “We partners in this. Trade with other villages, travelers…”

“Well Rogma and Lim, my name is Mirelle” She held out her hand. “I run this city. I’ll be looking all the trade partners I can find. If your village is interested, I’d love to meet with its leaders. Till then, I’d be happy to let you vend your wares anywhere you like.”

The two urd’thin stared at her hand, and Jekk pointed, explaining something in their tongue. Then both came forward and grasped her hand to give it a few awkward shakes. “We have deal now, yes?”

“As long as you’re only talking about vending your wares here, then yes.” Mirelle smiled at them, nodding. “We have a deal. Any larger deals must be negotiated. I’d offer you something to eat and drink, but I’m afraid my tavern is…not exactly in tip top shape.”

Lim turned away, staring up at the ruined building. Her sandy brown furred ears drooped. “Is Cathedral, yes?”

“It was…” Mirelle blinked, then glanced at Jekk. “Did Jekk tell you that?”

“I know from before Jekk.” She tugged on one of her ears. “I told from other urd’thin merchant. Was big pub in human town that let urd’thin stay, eat, drink, play music. They say was very nice. I sorry see it broken.”

“I’m sorry to see it broken, too.” Smiling again, Mirelle nudged Jekk with her elbow. “You see? I told you I had urd’thin come to my tavern.”

“Yes, yes.” Jekk waved his hand. “You’re very multi-cultural, I know. Hopefully this proves I’m willing to accept…well…You know.” He glanced at the urd’thin. “Them.”

“It’s a damn site better than…” She trailed off. She’d almost said, calling them rat-dogs, but given they had likely saved Jekk’s life, she was willing to consider it lesson learned for him. At least in public. “Yes, it’s good to see you getting along with them.”

Rogma turned towards Mirelle, smiling. “You rebuild, yes?”

“I’m not sure.” Mirelle rubbed her ribs, wincing. Everything was starting to ache again.

“Of course she’ll rebuild.” Beka walked over, giving Mirelle a hard look. “Mirelle has an example to set. To give everyone, of all species, a place to gather in peace. To give the city hope that we can all make this work. Right, Mirelle?”

“I’d love nothing more, Beka. I’m not sure I’ll have the funds left.”

Rogma waggled a finger at her. “You can get much urd’thin business. I tell you, we hear of this place. That good sign.”

Jekk turned around to gaze at the ruined walls. “You know, it would be a shame to let this place vanish. The Council’s emergency fund will be going to rebuilding the city, but I’ve some coin of my own put aside…”

“Jekk…” Mirelle swallowed, glancing away. “You don’t have to…”

“Alright then. I guess I’ll just use it reward Rogma and Lim here.”

“What?” Mirelle blinked, unsure if he was joking or not.

“Then we buy land, build own bar instead!” Lim threw her hands up, giggling. “We bar owners now, Rogma.”

Rogma tapped a finger to his muzzle, then waved at the wrecked building. “Is good location.” He glanced back at Mirelle. “You sell? We buy. Maybe call new place…how you say?”

“The Cathedral.” Jekk smirked at Mirelle.

“Yes, that good name. But must be open to all people.”

Lim nodded, wagging her tail. “Yes, yes, yes. And must have big place out back for…gryphons!” She pointed at the two females seated with Kurekka. “So friends can come, too.”

Mirelle looked back and forth between the urd’thin, the new gryphons, and Jekk. The old man looked entirely too smug for her liking. She grit her teeth. “Why do I get the feeling you’ve been plotting this?”

Jekk only smiled at her. “Rogma and Lim here are the newly minted heads of a merchant’s association that spans a half dozen urd’thin villages, far to the southwest. You know, those urd’thin musicians and traveling vendors you’re so found of bragging about?” He waved at the two visitors. “Guess where they come from? Apparently they’ve spread word that our city is home to the friendliest human tavern any of them knew. I may have let it slip that the woman who owns that bar is now running the city, and would no doubt be looking to arrange trade agreements with everyone she could.” Jekk reached out and squeezed her shoulder. “I hope you don’t mind me taking a few liberties with that last part.”

All Mirelle could do was stare.

Rogma flashed his teeth in a big urd’thin grin. “We bring people help you rebuild, for only small stake in profit.”

“Fifty percent!” Lim beamed up at Mirelle alongside her partner.

Mirelle blinked, shook her head, and laughed. “No wonder you’re the heads if you think that’s a small stake.” She glanced over at Beka, then held her hand out to other woman. “But I think you’ll have to conduct such negotiations with my good friend Beka, here. I’m not going to have time to run this place anymore, and so…so I think I’m going to leave it to her.”

“Me?!” Beka’s eyes went wide, her jaw dropped. “Wha…wh…well, what about Tavaat?”

“I’ve got another plan for him, but don’t worry. He’ll be around to help, as I will I when I’m able.” She took a deep breath, and let out a long, incredulous sigh. “And now…now I think I need to sit down.” She offered Jekk her arm. “If you’d be so kind as to help me back to my chair?”

“It would be an honor, Head Councilwoman.” Jekk took her hand, guiding her through the gap in the trees. “I suspect that is the only time I’ll ever hear you ask for my help.”

“Actually, I don’t think it will be.” Mirelle settled into her chair with a slow exhalation. “But first thing’s first, old man.” She gestured for him to sit in one of the other chairs, her voice softening. “First we’ll get some nourishment in you, and then you’re going to tell me about Revaramek.”

*****

Mirelle sipped tea muddled with medicinal herbs while she let Jekk eat. Beka brought some roast lamb from earlier in the day, and some crusty bread. She also brought a pitcher of water, a flask of rum, and a few cups. After that, Beka got the urd’thin set up with a meal of their own on what was left of The Cathedral’s patio. Chir’raal returned and along with Kurekka, chatted with the female gryphons. Which left Mirelle and Jekk alone, the way she wanted it to be for the time being.

When the food was gone, Jekk set his plate aside, then poured himself some rum. “Revaramek.” Jekk took a drink, grimacing. “Revaramek the Gods-Damned Resplendent.”

Mirelle blinked, grinning. “You add that bit in there?”

“He did, actually.” Jekk waved his hand. “It’s what he called to everyone gathered before you arrived. Told us to stop calling him dragon, because his name was Revaramek the Gods-Damned Resplendent.” Jekk slapped his palm against the table. “And that we should remember it.”

“We will.” Mirelle took another sip of tea. The bitter taste and aroma of the medicinal herbs didn’t make for the best tasting tea, but it was one of the easier ways to get them down. “We damn sure will.” Mirelle stared into her cup, watching the shredded leaves swirl in the stained liquid. “I told him everyone would know he was a hero.”

“That he is.” Jekk set his rum down, and filled another cup with water.

“Is?” Mirelle looked up from her tea again, a little tingle running through her core. “Is, or was?”

“Hmmm?”

“Jekk, don’t make me say it.”

Jekk blinked at her, then combed fingers through his messy beard. “I’m sorry, Mirelle, I’ve been in the marsh…actually, I don’t know how long I was out there. If you’re asking me if Revaramek is dead…” He trailed off, then glanced away. Just as Mirelle’s heart sank, and that little spark of hope faded, he continued. “I don’t know. With all he’s survived so far, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s found a way to survive this, too.”

“Survive what?” Mirelle leaned back in her chair. She had theories, but didn’t want to jump to conclusions.

Jekk drummed fingers against his wooden cup. “Revaramek…had a plan.”

“Yes, I know that.” Mirelle clenched her jaw, trying to be patient. “He told me that part. But he wouldn’t tell me what it was.”

“Which was part of his plan.” Jekk chuckled to himself, as if he was sharing one final inside joke with the dragon he once despised.

“Because he was afraid Asterbury would read our minds or something, right?”

“Actually.” Jekk took a gulp of water, and swapped his cup for the flask. “Asterbury plucking the plan from your heads was part of the plan.”

Mirelle knit her brow, her tea cup frozen halfway to her mouth. “What?”

“We weren’t sure if Asterbury could actually do that.” Jekk took sipped the rum, then wiped his mouth with a liver-spotted hand. “We concluded that Revaramek and I seemed to be the only ones Asterbury couldn’t…” He waved his hand, searching for the word. “Pluck things, out of our heads. It seems harder for him to do that to people who aren’t from the world he’s in at the time. At least without contact.”

“I’m not sure I understand.” Mirelle set her tea cup back down without ever taking a drink. “What did that have to do with the rest of us?”

“Probably nothing.” Jekk tapped a few fingers against the flask. “Just an extra layer of obfuscation.”

“Big words don’t explain things any clearer, old man.”

“Rev’s plan was never to confront Asterbury.” Jekk took another swig. “But to pledge his loyalty, instead.”

Mirelle would have dropped the tea cup if she’d still be holding it. Her eyes widened. “What?”

Jekk swished the flask in the air. “A ruse. But he had to catch Asterbury off guard with it. So Rev made sure the only thing that anyone heard from him was that he had a plan to stop Asterbury, and that he’d never come back. That way, if Asterbury did try and peek into anyone’s heads, all he’d find is that Rev had said goodbye. Which fit Rev’s ruse perfectly.” Jekk tapped his hand with a finger. “I knew more, but we didn’t think he could see into my head. Not without greater effort, anyway. So we banked on Asterbury’s overconfidence, so convinced he was going to win, he wouldn’t bother digging around in my mind. Besides…” He worked the flask between his hands. “Was pretty sure he was going to kill me, as soon as he arrived.”

“So…” Mirelle worked her mouth, struggling to find words. “So…what did he…?”

“Revaramek didn’t think he could kill Asterbury.” Jekk leaned his head back, staring up at the sky. “So he admitted as much, and offered him a deal. His loyalty as Asterbury’s servant in return for leaving this town, this world, alone. Alone and in your care, Mirelle.”

Mirelle put her face in her hands. Jekk said it was a ruse, but it still made her uneasy to imagine Revaramek offering such things to that furry madman, let alone on her behalf. “Why would Asterbury even…”

Jekk tilted his head. “Do you know how Asterbury came here? To this world?”

“Enora told me, yes.” Mirelle set her hands back down.

“Then you know he can’t operate the gates that my people used. But Revaramek can.” Jekk held up his hand to silence her next question even before it started. “I’ll…explain that part later. Just know your resplendent friend can open the gates, and Asterbury can’t. So Revaramek promised to do just that, to let him into any world, any story…but only if he agreed to leave this story alone. And if Asterbury refused, then Revaramek was going to fight him to the death.”

Mirelle sucked in a breath. “Did he-”

“No.” Jekk waved her off again. “Again, Rev knew that Asterbury wanted a way to get home more than anything. If he killed Rev, he’d lose his only way out of this place, his only chance to get back to his desert. And as you yourself pointed out, Asterbury might be a monster but he genuinely cares for quite a few of this world’s inhabitants. So Rev knew he wasn’t likely to just…blast it all out of existence.”

“Rev…” Mirelle shook her head, chuckling. “You clever son of a bitch.”

Jekk smirked. “You shouldn’t talk about his mother that way.” He laughed and took a long drink of water, then smiled. “The cleverest part was getting Asterbury to the gate. He knew Asterbury wouldn’t ever accept without being sure Rev truly could open the gate. So off we all went to test Rev’s abilities.”

“That…platform thing, I saw him on.”

“Correct. Asterbury’s stage of sorts for his final battle with Revaramek.” Jekk shrugged, adjusting his dirty shirt. “Everyone expected Rev to and go and fight him, after all. The deal caught him completely off guard. Rev didn’t give him a chance to think too hard, either. Just kept pushing and needling him till Asterbury was asking for a trial run. And then…” Jekk slowly shook his head, chuckling. “Then at last, we were a step ahead of him. Rev and I knew where the gate would go.”

Mirelle’s shoulders sagged, and she gave a long, drawn out sigh. “The swamp.”

“The swamp.” Jekk offered Mirelle the flask. “I made up some bullshit about how it would remember the last person who went through it, how it recognized his blood.” Jekk chuckled, waving his hand. “But it was the spark inside Revaramek it recognized. It knew where that spark was from, and where it was meant to return. Without a living spark, the gates will never work. Doesn’t matter how much blood from someone with it you might have. A living spark is the key, and unless instructed otherwise, it will always carry that spark home.”

“By the Gods.” Mirelle closed her eyes, moaning in sympathy for Revaramek. “That…poor dragon. He…he hates that damn swamp. It…his mother…”

“I know.” Jekk reached across the table and put his hand on Mirelle’s. “I know.”

Mirelle opened her eyes, thankful for Jekk’s comfort. She gave him a smile, then pulled her hand back to pick up the flask and take a long drink. It was good rum, with hints of burnt sugar and spices. She gazed around her ruined, sand-covered garden, and sighed again. “How does Rev have the spark, as you call it? And if that’s how the gates work, how did his mother…?”

“She’d have had the spark too. And she must have known how to work it. Some of the gates can be programmed, if you knew the right sigils, the coordinates. Or if you guide it with your spark. His mother was probably…” Jekk’s face scrunched, and he glanced away.

“Go on, Jekk.” Mirelle took another drink of rum.

“Some of his family line were probably ours. Storyteller slaves. A few of them understood how to set coordinates into the gate’s keystones. Whatever Asterbury did to that place, it must have put the spark into some of them, like the Storyteller himself once did to us. They could pass it on the same way we did. Maybe Rev’s mother was a slave, herself. Or descended from a slave who met a marsh dragon. Doesn’t matter, I suppose. When she activated the gate, maybe she’d heard of 1-N from grandparents who’d been with survey teams. Or…maybe…” A wistful smile drifted across his lips. “This is wishful thinking, but…maybe some of our people were still there, surviving. Trying to make amends by…helping our old slaves find new lives.”

Mirelle passed the old man back the flask. He took a swig, and she finished her tea. She poured herself another cupful, then eased back into her chair. “So…Revaramek. The gate…it opened?”

“It did. Which brings me to the last part of his plan.” Jekk’s face twisted up. “I think at the end, Asterbury grew suspicious. Rev snatched him up, and leapt into the gateway. They vanished through, Aylaryl followed…”

“I saw…” Mirelle sipped her tea, trying to pull her memories enough together to describe it. “A flash of light, brilliant even though it was distant. Then clouds…swirling clouds.”

“That was the gateway.” The old man gave a single nod. “They were forged with…powers not meant for us.”

“Enora said it was like piercing a hole through two panes of glass. One on each side.”

“That’s a good way to put it. That’s…” Jekk swallowed, glancing away. “Part of the reason I knew if I demolished our gates here, that it would be unlikely my former people would try to force their way back here. You see, the more holes you pierce…”

“Yeah.” Mirelle sipped her tea, her thoughts wandering to poor Revaramek. “I know. Hammers and glass and all that. So…once he went through. You mentioned the last part?”

“Yes.” Jekk took a deep breath. “The last part of his plan is the reason he told you he’d never come back.” Jekk set his hand upon Mirelle’s once more. Though his fingers were bony, his touch was warm, and soft. Jekk’s slightly rheumy eyes shone wet, revealing a depth of sympathy and understanding she rarely saw. “He did what a hero has to do. He made the sacrifice. The final piece of his plan was to destroy the other gate as soon as they arrived. When the gate on our side suddenly deactivated, I knew he’d succeeded. Revaramek, he…he must have been terrified. He knew…” Jekk took a shuddering breath.

While the old man spoke, pain built anew in Mirelle. She knew where he was going with this, but she didn’t want to cut him off. She didn’t want to have to hear it, but she knew Revaramek deserved to have every word of his sacrifice spoken aloud, to have every bit of his fear, his pain acknowledged. Her hand trembled beneath Jekk’s.

“He knew the only way to beat Asterbury was to strand him in that swamp forever. So Revaramek stranded himself in the poison swamp to save us all. He cast himself into the place that terrified him more than anything. Alone, with a furious monster who probably killed him for it. Revaramek gave his life to save our town, Mirelle.” Even Jekk’s voice broke. A few tears welled up in his eyes. He wiped them away, shaking his head. “The whirlwind. Revaramek the Gods-Damned Resplendent…is our gods-damned hero.”

Mirelle put her face in her hand and cried. Jekk eased up out of his chair and walked around to hug Mirelle with a bony arm. In that moment, Mirelle didn’t care one bit about all their differences, or that he smelled like the marsh. She was thankful for his comfort, either way. She leaned against him, and for a little while, just cried into his clothes. When her tears had dried, she eased away from Jekk, rubbing her eyes. She gave him a grateful smile.

“Thank you for…telling me. And for…” She gestured at the wet patches on his shirt.

“Think nothing of it.” He returned her smile, and then adjusted his shirt. “I should…leave you in peace.”

Mirelle waved her good hand at the seat across from her. “If you don’t mind, I’d prefer you sit back down.” She cleared her throat, trying to finish regaining her composure. She managed a little smile. “Since you’re not dead, I have something very important I suddenly wish to discuss with you.”

Jekk settled back into the chair, confusion twisting his face. “Very well. What did you have in mind?”

“Can you reach that book?” Mirelle pointed to a leather-bound tome sitting near Jekk’s chair. Everything that occupied the table earlier now sat around it.

The older man leaned over with a grunt, and picked up the book from the ground. He passed it across the table to Mirelle. “What’s this about?”

“Just a moment, just a moment.” Mirelle set the book on the table. She opened it and flipped through with her good hand. When she reached the page she wanted, she turned it around to face Jekk. “This is what it’s about.”

Jekk leaned forward. “This is just a list of names, and blank spaces for more names.”

“Correct.” Mirelle sipped her tea. It had cooled considerably, so she gulped it all down, and poured herself what was left in the pot. “Those are lists of city positions.” She waved her hand. “Administrators and ministers and things like that.”

“Making a clean sweep, are you?” Jekk furrowed his brow, shaking his head. “I’d think most of them would have earned the right to keep their jobs.”

“Some of them are dead, Jekk.” Mirelle gazed up past the ruins of her tavern, to the distant hill where the Council Hall once stood. “Many of them held volunteer positions with the guard force. Others served dual roles, working with city finances and with administration of military funds, for example. There’s…a lot of empty seats that need to be filled.”

“Ah.” Jekk’s face tightened up, and he swallowed hard, rubbing his hands together. “I was…not going to broach that till you were…”

“A lot.” Mirelle sighed, still staring at the vacant hill. “Don’t have final numbers yet, but…a lot.”

“I see.” Jekk ran a hand down his face, muffling a distressed groan. “And…I could not help but notice there are still va’chaak camped outside the town.”

“They’re helping us.” Mirelle set her tea cup down. “Some of them, anyway. I negotiated a truce with Rekrek. In the end, he wanted peace more than he wanted revenge. We have yet to hash out all the terms…” She tugged her blouse up a little to show some of her bandages. Jekk cringed. “But we will soon.”

The old man gave an incredulous laugh, shaking his head. “Seems Revaramek was right, then.”

“About what?”

“This story did want you to be its hero.” He waved his hand at the world around them. “It guided you through battle, it brought you victory, and it kept you alive to negotiate for peace. I suppose that makes me right as well, then, and Asterbury wrong.” Jekk smirked. “Because you do get to hear me say this again. You’re going to make a fine head councilwoman, Mirelle.”

Mirelle smiled, a sense of warm pride settling through her. When she savored the moment long enough, she pointed up at the burnt hilltop. “I’m giving the va’chaak their hill back.”

“I could still be wrong though.” Jekk folded his arms, glaring at her. “Why would you-”

“Because it means more to them than it does to us. And before you start in about its strategic importance, my hope is that we’ll share it with them. Strategic or not, we’ll be in a better position to defend ourselves against anything that comes if we have an army twice the size that’s swelled with both human and va’chaak soldiers. Peace requires concessions, Jekk. If Rekrek can tell his people that he’s brought them back their sacred hill, than that makes it that much easier for them to buy into this truce.”

Jekk grumbled under his breath. “Not that it matters what I think anymore.”

“Actually, that’s what this is about.” Mirelle sipped her tea again, smiling. She could tell her smile was irritating him after what she’d just revealed. That only made her smile grow. “Turn the page.”

With a sigh, Jekk flipped the page over. His gray brows knit together. “It just says, council, and it has your name and a bunch of blank spaces.”

“Four blank spaces.”

“So you’re not keeping anyone, then?” Jekk slumped back in his chair, sighing. “Very well. I can make recommendations amongst our qualified staff, if that’s what you’re asking for.”

“Actually, I’m asking for you to sign your name on that second line.”

Jekk blinked, stared at her, and blinked again. He worked his mouth a few times before any sound came out. “What?”

“I’m putting together a council.” Mirelle gestured at the book with her tea cup, trying to keep her grin in check. “I figure I need someone with experience and…well, just look at you, you look experienced to me. Every council needs a bitter old man with an dirty gray beard.”

A smile twitched at the corners of Jekk’s lips. “It’s only dirty because I’ve been wandering the marsh a week.”

Mirelle rested her splinted arm on the table. “Dirty, grumpy, and tends to wander off. That sounds perfect.”

“You’re serious, aren’t you.” Jekk folded his arms across his chest. “Why would you want me?”

“I can’t help but feel you made it back here for a reason.” Mirelle stared into the old man’s eyes, seeking to measure his soul. “There’s no one more experienced in all the land. And you’re the only one truly understands…” She tilted her head towards the golden sand stretching nearby. “All that. I think that’s going to be important. At a time like this, the town needs some continuity of leadership, people who understand how things work.”

“You realize I’m not going to agree with your every decision.” Jekk tugged at one of his sleeves. “And if you’re still going to put things to a vote, I’ll vote against it if I think you’re wrong.”

Mirelle only shrugged. “Good. I don’t want a council of bootlicks, Jekk. I need a dissenting voice or two. I need someone to present the opposite sides of an argument, to show me different viewpoints. I’m still going to follow my heart, so sometimes I’ll override you. Other times, I suspect, my heart will agree with your dissent. You have everything I want for someone in the Council’s second seat. Experience, knowledge, and a differing viewpoint to challenge my own.”

“Who else is going to be on the council? You don’t have any names, but I’m guessing you have ideas. If you’re going to put Enora on it-”

“I’m not. I’m making her an ambassador to the va’chaak. She speaks their language fluently, has experience dealing with them, and they trust her. They’ll listen to her when they won’t listen to me.”

“I’m not sure that’s a wise-”

“Sorry old man, but I’m not currently listening to unsolicited advice from non-council members.” Mirelle shrugged, smirking at him. “If you’d like to make your voice heard, feel free to attend the next public council meeting.”

Jekk snorted, glancing at the book. “Don’t suppose you have a pen.”

“There’s one around somewhere. Is that a yes?”

“Well, someone’s got to teach you how things work around here.”

Mirelle quirked a brow. “Is that how you think things are going to be?”

“Can’t you just allow an old man his delusions for a little while longer?”

“Suppose you’ve earned that.” Mirelle sipped her tea, swishing the herbal liquid around her mouth before swallowing. “Do you really think it’s a bad idea to appoint Enora to that position?”

“That was my gut reaction.” Jekk took a deep breath, then gave a weary sigh. “But…I’m also willing to admit I’ve no idea how well she may have acquitted herself in the events that ravaged our poor town over the last week.”

“Quite well.”

“So be it, then. If you think she’s the right person for the job, you’ll have my backing on it.” He shook a bony finger at her. “Just don’t expect me to back every idea you have so easily.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Mirelle set her tea cup down, leaning forward. “You asked about other names. I had planned to offer Nell a seat, due to her own experience, and I see no reason to rescind that offer now. So, as long as she accepts, that’s three of us. I think I’ll offer Seral and Kendrick other positions, perhaps ministers of some sort. I want the two remaining seats to be new blood, new viewpoints…”

“A reasonable consideration. I can think of a few good candidates who-”

“I don’t want them to be human, either.”

Jekk froze, fingers stuck in his beard mid-comb. “You…you what now?”

“I said exactly what you think I said.” Mirelle’s gaze bored into the old man, pinning him into his chair. “I can hardly consider my city to be fair and inclusive if I refuse to allow our non-human citizens to have a say in this town’s future. Differing viewpoints, Jekk.” Mirelle thumped a few fingers against the table. “We need them all. I want to include everyone who wishes to be a part of our new society, but I’m not naïve enough to think I can speak for them, or arrogant enough to think they want my voice instead of theirs. I can’t very well invite the va’chaak to be a part of our young civilization if I don’t invite them to help me guide that civilization. So, we’ll have someone who once pushed them out…” She held up her hand to silence Jekk’s protests. “Someone who wants them treated as our equals…and one of them to let their own voices be heard, in an official capacity. Differing viewpoints.”

“I suppose you have one in mind?”

Mirelle nodded. “I have ideas, I have instincts, and I have my heart.”

“Oh gods.” Jekk put a hand on his face. “Here we go.”

“There’s that dissenting voice.” Mirelle pumped her fist in the air, laughing. “My instinct says RekRek.”

“Is that who I think it is?”

“He’s a tribal leader, the one I’m negotiating the truce with.” Mirelle’s voice hardened. “He was also one of Asterbury’s top minions, which is one of several reasons I wouldn’t offer him a spot on the council. He’s a good voice for their people, but I’m not putting any of Asterbury’s accomplices in a position of power in our city.”

“Thank the Gods for that.”

“As one of the leaders of his tribe, we’ll still be dealing with him often. I won’t give him any power here. But I will likely offer him a high level advisory role, working with Enora to help bring about va’chaak integration, and make sure they’re treated fairly.”

Jekk only chuckled and shook his head. “Dear Gods, woman. You’ve had the job a week and you’re already putting yourself into the sort of extensive, endless negotiations that can break some leaders. You’ve no idea of the complexity of-”

“All that matters is that we get it done, Jekk. If it wasn’t immensely challenging, it wouldn’t be worthwhile. But this…” Mirelle twisted in her chair, staring at the columns of smoke rising from va’chaak camps. “This is meaningful. They were singing for their dead all night, we’ve been burying ours for days…We owe it to every life lost to find a way to stop this. To keep it from happening again. This place, this world. Enora thinks it’s a refuge for everyone, and…it can be, but it will take all of us to make that happen.”

The old man reached for the flask of rum, then gestured with it. “It’s a fine ideal, I won’t argue that. So did you have a va’chaak in mind?”

Mirelle chewed her lip. “I’m not sure if he’d accept the offer or not, but…my heart keeps telling me Tavaat. He cares deeply about his own people, but he cares just as much about our city. Fought for it, along with the rest of us, and I think having to do so hurt him even more.”

Jekk took a swig from the flask, then wiped his mouth. “It’s a reasonable suggestion. Though, the tribes may think he’s brainwashed. They may want someone from their tribe more than they want a va’chaak in general.”

“I know, and each tribe will want its own voice on the council, and so on and so on. But they’ll have to make do. He’ll meet with their leaders, hear their voices, bring their issues to the council…” Mirelle shrugged. “At least, I hope he will. I’m not even sure he’ll accept. But there are few people I trust more than Tavaat. If he’s willing to take on the responsibility, he’d make an excellent councilmember. I think the va’chaak would come to accept him, too. Besides, Beka and he make for an excellent symbol of unity together, and…well. Anyway, I’m going to offer him the fourth seat.”

“And the fifth? Another va’chaak?” Jekk shook the flask, scowling at how empty it sounded.

“Down the line, I might like another va’chaak in there, yes. I think we should consider rotating council members every few years. But for the time being…” Mirelle trailed off, gazing across the sand towards the four gryphons who were all chatting and laughing. “I’m seriously considering offering Kurekka the last spot.”

Jekk coughed up his rum. He bent over the side of his chair, spitting it out. “You…you can’t be…”

“Why not?” Mirelle gave him a cold, measured look.

Anger and drink alike reddened Jekk’s face beneath his beard. “Where do I begin? The last time I saw you, you were issuing him an ultimatum, and-”

“An ultimatum he saw through with-”

“And that was after you were yelling at him for blackmail!”

“He and I fought together, drew blood together, and shed blood together, and-”

“And let’s not forget he and his…his…partner were shot down for raiding our supply wagons between villages!”

Mirelle slowly leaned forward, staying calm, keeping her voice even and level. “And The Storytellers murdered their families, and stole their lands. You had gryphons and dragons alike shot down and slain and yet I’m still putting you on the new council. You said yourself you regretted what had to be done, but you did it because it had to be done. Well, Jekk?” Mirelle thumped her hand against the table. “This has to be done. If we truly want this place to be a refuge, for everyone, then our leadership needs their voices. I’d have given the spot to Revaramek, but he’s too busy sacrificing himself so that I’d have this chance in the first place.”

She paused and took a deep breath, and when Jekk didn’t interrupt her, she continued. “Revaramek put me in command because he thought I was the best person for this job. You backed me because you agreed with him. You said yourself you won’t always agree with me, and that’s good! You’ve made your dissent clear, and I respect it. But I believe this is the right path to take. Kurekka proved himself to me. I trust him now. So in lieu of having other va’chaak, gryphons, dragons, or urd’thin I know well enough to trust with such a position, I’m offering the spots to Tavaat and Kurekka. So I have an important question to ask you.” She leaned back again, letting it settle in for a moment. “Can you, or can you not, serve on a council alongside Tavaat and Kurekka?”

Jekk grit his teeth, glancing away.

“It’s alright to say no, Jekk. I can find someone else to fill your seat.”

“Tavaat’s fine. And…I don’t have a problem with gryphons.” Jekk slapped the table, rattling the tea pot. “Just so you know. I have a problem with raiders, and blackmailers.”

“And they have a problem with councils who oversaw the murders of their parents and the theft of their land.” Mirelle shook her head, sighing. “I’m giving you both a chance to put your pasts behind you, and shape this town for the better.”

The old man held his breath for a long time, then let it out in a long, defeated sigh. “I can work with Kurekka.”

“Good.” Mirelle smiled at him across the table. “Then your first task will be to help me convince him to take the offer.”

“Of course it is.”

“Actually…” Mirelle waved him off. “Your first task should be to go get a bath. You smell like the damn marsh.”

Jekk snorted, and rose to his feet. He glared at her, but it was clear the old man was fighting back a grin. “Good to see you too, Head Councilwoman.”