The blue star settled on the western horizon, blazing the district with a play of dust-filtered light and shadow. The warm stink of buffalo lizards wafted on the breeze, stirring my hair to tickle my shoulders. I leaned against the wall of Bauring Dath, looking out past the yurts and sheep pastures, towards the city. Loogie had curled in a ball of mustard yellow fluff on my lap, asleep after its meal of sheep blood.

  Party chat scrolled past. I’d been ignoring it unless someone specifically addressed me.

  Akilah: I need to find a workshop.

  Jake: Fig says she can find one.

  Elora: Ooo. Can we hang out there? It can be like, Outliers Headquarters. We could have a real quest agency, doing tasks no one else wants to do. Maybe people will come to us if they don’t want to go to the sheriff’s office. It’s kinda out of the way…

  Jake: Fig says she likes that idea. Dath. Dath. Dath. Dath.

  I sighed and turned my gaze inwards, toward my HUD.

  What?

  Jake: Invite Fig to the party.

  We just met her, bud. I’m not inviting a stranger in.

  The words appeared with a thought and intent to be party chat. I’d learned early on how to make my HUD and aspect screens work without the waggly finger motions others used. The others had picked it up after seeing me do it. The key? My anger at the auction house brought out the right energy to figure it out. Usually, anger tripped me up, but that time, it worked out well for me.

  Jake: Why did you invite Elora, then?

  Damn good question. It felt right at the time. I searched my memory of the day, the Feast of Friends, and the shenanigans that happened.

  Because she was caught in the same spell you were, didn’t ask questions, and did as I asked.

  It was more than that, but it was the main reason. She’d sat beside me. Force-feeding herself, within my reach, and someone I could save, so I’d lifted her up and brought her along. Elora joined in my crazy scheme. It was fun, in a twisted kind of way. She was just one of those people you meet that you instantly click with.

  Akilah: Let’s get together. I think I’ve salvaged enough stuff for today.

  Jake: Dinner at Tanglepot?

  Uh, sure.

  My gaze flicked to the aspect screen, searching for it.

  Tanglepot: Teahouse. Location: Grand Market.

  I slid a hand under Loogie, who gave me a sleepy blink, snuggling into my palm. A stupid grin tugged at my lips, and the squishy warm feeling of caring about a pet overrode the mild annoyance of having to get up and socialize. I had funds to spare. Elora and Akilah turned in the bounty badges, and they had deposited a small heap of gems into my inventory.

  The Grand Market’s vibe changed as night fell. By day it was hot, busy, and loud. Kiosk vendors barked for attention, and a steady stream of bodies flowed along the flagstones. By night, the mellow glow of various shops came alive, and shadows bloomed between kiosks and tents. One of the moons rose—the small blue one—casting a cool reflection of light. I slowed my steps, waiting for the other two to peek above the jagged rooftops of the city. The orange one, and mine.

  I lingered on the walkway. A centaur clopped past. Just after, a couple breezed by, wearing silken garments resembling leaves. When my moon’s pale white face shone, homesickness stabbed at my chest, but along with it came a quiet relief.

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  Not all that was lost would stay lost forever.

  Once I’d had my fill of admiring it, I wandered the worn flagstone toward one of the small buildings nestled within the sea of tents and awnings. Outside, a teapot hung from a crooked post, overgrown with vines, its name written in a language I couldn’t read. The signpost was clear enough, and my minimap identified it: Tanglepot.

  Shutters were thrown wide to reveal the warm atmosphere. Tiny flames danced in globes reminiscent of the fae magic of Heartland. The building had the same elegant simplicity of Gleamholt, its smooth wooden walls having a multitude of knots and whorls that drew the eye.

  I spotted my group before I stepped past the vine-draped entrance. Leaves tickled my head, and I ducked quickly to avoid whacking my forehead on a hidden doorframe. I’d learned my lesson enough times to actually avoid it. I’d buy tea to celebrate.

  There were five at the ashwood table, and I sighed to myself before going over to swing a leg over the bench beside Fig, the only spot left. Elora instantly shook her teaspoon at me, squinting with accusation.

  “Late.”

  “Dath is always late,” Akilah said, rolling her eyes as she sipped from a crystal teacup.

  Frag smiled mechanically at me, saying nothing. He was boxed in by my teammates, calm and perfectly at ease between them. I looked past Fig’s green hair at Jake, who gave me a half-hearted shrug. I guess he couldn’t defend me anymore. I glanced around, but they hadn’t ordered, yet. Weird. They were always stuffing their faces while waiting for me. Were they trying to put on airs of politeness for the new people?

  “Ha,” I muttered to myself, then shook my head as Akilah raised a brow at me.

  These guys were trying to impress these two? I wasn’t sure how I felt about that—or the fact that I’d noticed Fig holding Jake’s hand under the table.

  I rested my arms on the table, scanning the cups. A sprite whisked over, the buzz of his wings causing the center of my brow to crease. He hovered at my shoulder, and my skin rippled with heebie jeebies.

  “Would you care for anything, sir?”

  Ugh. I didn’t love honorifics. I’d used them easily enough with Lord Ashwynn, though. Guh. I glanced at him, noting the sparkly pins running down his tiny vest. Employee of the century? Huh?

  I snapped up the menu and couldn’t read a damn thing off it. Fucking fae. I tipped it toward Elora and said, “Surprise me.”

  “You want me to order for you?” she asked, surprised. A split second later, her smile turned evil, fingers questing for the slip of paper I held.

  “Never mind.” I yanked the menu back. My left eye twitched.

  Fig put her hand on my hand and blinked up at me with her big anime eyes. She had a butterfly touch, cautious and fluttering. “May I?”

  “Please,” I said, despite my doubts, tipping the menu her way.

  Fig drifted fingers over and then huffed. She glanced at the sprite and said, “Oh, none of these will do. My boyfriend’s team leader has more earthy tastes. What have you got off the menu?”

  The Cupid’s bow of her lips as she spoke was entrancing. CHARM. I spotted the message on my HUD and blinked it away, then checked the sprite’s acceptance. With my nearly indomitable WILL score, I couldn’t be charmed by pretty much anyone, but the sprite wasn’t so lucky. His face took on a purplish blush, and it was easy to imagine his eyes turning into hearts.

  “Oh. Oh, of course, miss. We’ve got a robust Mazagran,” the sprite hummed closer to her, eyes closing as he sniffed her way.

  She did smell like a sunny forest day, but I chalked it up to her being some kinda dryad or whatever. I narrowed my eyes at him. Jake’s expression went cold and he hissed. The sprite twitched and fluttered back a foot, fanning himself.

  “So that, and whatever he orders,” I jabbed a finger at Jake, whose unusual aggression was broken by me pointing at him.

  His fangs disappeared, and he hesitated, “What I order?”

  “Yeah, so pick food,” I suggested. Then I turned my finger to the sprite. “And you can take that Employee of the Century pin off. No sniffing the customers.”

  After the sprite had taken our orders—mushroom tarts, grillroot gyoza, and bugbites—literally bugs tossed in oil and then in seasonings, I looked at Fig with a new curiosity. She had some kind of fae charm magic going on.

  “What’s your class, Fig?” I shifted to face her, ignoring the possessive glare I got from Jake. Bro. I’d deal with that later.

  “I am a half-sylvan technobard from Valumbra,” she replied, her voice smooth as a bubbling brook.

  I glanced from her to Frag. Forgeborn. Half-sylvan. My scrambled memory of the abduction didn’t include any of that on the first aspect screen when I chose my race. The System assigned me my class based on what it thought I should be. But, she was a technomancer and bard? What the hell kind of were-vamp-mermaid crap is that?

  And yet. A smile twitched at my lips because that gave me ideas. Sure, I didn’t trust her. We didn’t have to be best friends, but her skills? Those were useful.

  “What do you say to joining our party?”

  -ARCHIVE-