Moving at the decent clip they were, they managed to get to the camp of the Royal Huntsmen of Pugila before sundown the next day. There was a larger, permanent cabin, whose chimney smoke made it easy to find the site. It was clearly where the King or his guests usually stayed, but would be empty except for staff right now. Potential Hell Beasts often kept nobility away.

  “Halt, travelers.” The guard at the entrance to the camp held one hand out to stop them, the other resting on the hilt of their sword. “These are the King of Pugila’s woods. State your business.”

  The human’s suspicious gaze wasn’t sure where it wanted to settle. Horns, pointed ears, and a beast with glowing eyes. The three of them were walking alarm bells for those not used to anything outside of boiler plate humanity. Alnyx’s lip curled into a snarl, and he readied himself to move on the defensive.

  “Yes, of course my good man.” Absinthe spoke before he could get them in trouble. “We’ve been sent by the Tasker Guild over in Port Morgranto. Seems your captain organized a contract to give you all a hand with a monster.”

  “And you have this contract.” The placed, disgusted, emphasis even had Absinthe’s clearly practiced smiled falter for a moment.

  “Naturally. Alnyx?”

  Since the mark on the contract was his, he had kept it in his bags after they left the city. Ages ago, when Alnyx first started taking these sorts of jobs, he’d invested in an envelope. The treated water-proof parchment with an embossed sigil of the guild made it look more professional then the job normally was. And it was instrumental in shutting down bigots like this one. He held the envelope out once he withdrew it.

  “All there.” he grunted, managing to swallow the growl when the guard took it none too gently. Not quite rough enough to be a “snatch” but it wasn’t far off.

  Alnyx looked to Absinthe and couldn’t help rolling his eyes. Absinthe’s head shake and shrug in response was a “what can you do?” from someone just as used to this sort of treatment. Humans had a nasty little superiority complex. Give them a weapon and a modicum of power in a situation? Don’t even get the elf started.

  “Right gentlemen. All seems to be in order.” He handed the envelope back to Alnyx, but the hand still remained on his sword. “The Huntsmaster is in his tent. Red one at the center of the camp. You keep that out and show it to anyone that asks. And don’t cause trouble.”

  Did all the stupid ones just assume that Alnyx liked having to defend himself? That non-humans got off on riling up a crowd? The snarl he had hoped he had hidden away clearly showed through with how quickly the man pulled his hand back.

  “Thank you, good hunter.” Absinthe broke the tension with a nod, tapping Alnyx’s arm before leading them into the camp. “You have an absolutely terrible poker face. I can only hope you never make bets.” They laughed when the three of them were out of earshot.

  “I have a low tolerance for stupidity. Especially from someone who does not know me or is not paying me.”

  “So I can see. You catch more flies with honey.”

  “I would rather crush the flies.”

  “So ferocious.” they chuckled. “I’d rather avoid a fight. But I suppose between the two of us, you are the one with the swords and I’m not.”

  Alnyx gave no reply, as he noticed the hunters around them pausing in the work they were supposed to be doing to glance their way. A few outright staring. By the time they reached the red tent that had been mentioned, a man with a heavy cloak and an air of importance was in front of it. The rifle slung across their back marked them as the Huntsmaster.

  “Taskers aye? Quicker than I thought. Good. Hunstmaster Bennett.” He properly introduced himself.

  “Absinthe. This is Alnyx.” they gestured between the two of them and Fish barked once. “I was getting to you. The furry one is Fish.”

  “Come in.” Bennett seemed unbothered by the creature, a definite point in the good column. “I’ll catch you up on what we know so far.” He walked back into the tent through the open flap, not looking behind to see if they followed.

  It wasn’t much, but the thick fabric muffled the sounds outside of it and made it so they could speak more freely. There were a few proper pieces of furniture inside, denoting it as a more permanent fixture of the camp than the smaller tents. An armor-stand on one side of the space currently housed a set of well-maintained plate armor, and there was a desk scattered with maps and notes they couldn’t read from the entrance. The full sized, fur-laden bed was the greatest luxury.

  “We first spotted the beast after the last dark moon. Near one of the caves at the center of the King’s portion of the woods.” Bennett said as he walked to the desk, brushing some of the papers away from the large map. “One of our forward scouts got just close enough to see it wasn’t natural. Not something they’d ever seen.”

  “If it is some ley-based beast, that wouldn’t be a surprise.” Absinthe followed, arms crossed as they looked down at the desktop. “The empty sky of the Dark Moon is said to allow certain ones greater movement.”

  “We’ve tracked its movement for the last two fortnights. None of the scouts want to get any closer than they have to.”

  “Guild mentioned one of yours got mauled.” Alnyx joined them, using a finger to trace the colored pins that marked sightings.

  “One of the trainees and their instructor. Instructor got the worst of it. Didn’t make it. I told them to wait, but they didn’t listen. Headstrong.” Bennett sighed. “Body was half eaten by the time we could get to it. Kid climbed up into a tree and it didn’t bother him up there.

  “Half eaten?” Absinthe wrinkled their nose. “So, not a herbivore then. Sound familiar to you, Alnyx?”

  “What does it look like? Horns, wings?” when the Huntsmaster shook his head at both, Alnyx arched an eyebrow. “Claws? Monstrous jaws?”

  “That’s the problem we’ve run in to. Every scout I send out comes back with a different description. Some of them have said a bear, some a boar. The trainee said an elk, and the fact the instructor looked like she had been gored, we had to agree.”

  “A shapeshifter then. Narrows it down more than you might think.” Absinthe ran the tip of their claw along the marks on the map, leaning forward over them. “We find its den, we can get it in its natural state. They’re weaker then.”

  Alnyx couldn’t argue with the logic. But looking at the potential sighting locations, it was a lot of ground to cover with just two of them. It didn’t seem likely they would get volunteers to come along. Potentially getting killed by a mystery ley-beast was outside the paid responsibility of a hunter.

  “Any reports you can provide would be helpful.” Alnyx looked to Bennett. “Might be able to make some sense of things. And a map like this with all the sightings if you can spare it, so we can figure out best where to go first.”

  “I’ll have them to you by the evening meal. Need to make sure nothing in there you shouldn’t see.” strangers to their King after all. “The trainee is still at the medical tent. Tell the healer I sent you to talk to him.”

  A dismissal without being specifically told to go. Alnyx nudged Absinthe when the scholar didn’t move right away. The wordless acknowledgment should have been unsettling. But it was instead comfortable when they both stepped back at the same time. They walked out where Absinthe was a half step behind him, and a half step in front of Fish. Slotting into the spot like they were made for it.

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  Alnyx swallowed the bubble of warmth before he could risk it causing him to say something foolish. The walk across the campsite to the medical tent was a quick one, with people giving them a wide berth. Once they arrived, the young hunter-to-be eyed them warily, mostly Fish. Understandably really, given the last unfamiliar beast they came across killed a man in front of them.

  Once the healer explained they were here to help, the young man seemed much more willing to tell them what he knew. The beast had taken the shape of a large elk, which hadn’t been so out of the ordinary for the Kingswood. But, the fact it was black as soot, with jagged antlers and a “foul air” had tipped them off that something wasn’t quite right.

  It wasn’t much to go on, but the young hunter confirmed that the beast had been alone, and didn’t seem to be protecting any sort of mate or cubs or any such thing. Knowing there was just one of them was at least some sort of relief.

  Absinthe and Alnyx decided it would be best for the two of them to part ways, to see what else they could gather from the scouts and hunters scattered across the camp. Perhaps a bias of his own upbringing and time among his Brothers and Sisters of the bow, Alnyx walked to where a small group of the hunters were shooting at targets and fetching arrows. A few arched eyebrows but when he picked up one of the strung bows, they couldn’t help but take more interest.

  He would always favor his blades, one of the many fights he had gotten in to with his cousins leading up to his departure from The Grove. That didn’t mean he hadn’t gone through the same training and education they had. He gave the string a tug back to feel the tension of it first before notching an arrow. Drawing back properly and taking a moment to aim, he fired and split the shaft already sticking out closest to the center on the middle ranged target.

  “Here for the beast problem, yeah?” one of them leaned on their longbow in a way that Alnyx could hear his ancestors screaming over. “What do you need to know?”

  * * *

  When it came time for the evening meal, Alnyx walked to the bonfire with the archers. They hadn’t given him anything new in terms of information, but the practice had felt good. The underused muscles from a lengthy marksmanship competition burned pleasantly. When he didn’t see Absinthe in the gathered circle, he frowned.

  “Your mage went off to study.” Bennett was the one who handed him a battered looking bowl of some sort of thick stew. “Gave him the reports when I saw him with our trackers not that long ago. Tent with the blue and black flag’s yours for the night.”

  “Thanks.” Alnyx more grunted than spoke, taking a seat on one of the logs that were felled to be benches.

  Once he had his fill, and made sure to pick a few choice pieces of the meat for Fish, he went to the person managing the stew, who happened to be the healer they had met at earlier. They were happy to hand over a helping for Absinthe since they hadn’t made their way over. And even managed to scrounge up a decent bone for the lycine. Alnyx couldn’t help but smile a little, watching as Fish gave his best attempt at a skip as he trotted ahead with the deer femur in his jaws to find the tent they had been allowed use of for the night.

  Sure enough, he nearly tripped over Absinthe’s knee-high boots inside the entrance of the canvas tent. The horned figure themselves was sitting, cross legged on one of the cots with paperwork scattered around on the rest of it. A lantern was lit on a post beside them, true fire and not one made with their crystal trick.

  They didn’t even look up. As if they hadn’t heard Alnyx enter, or Fish jump up on the other cot and start at their bone. It took Alnyx holding the bowl directly in front of them, breaking the line of sight they had to the words, to get Absinthe to finally look up.

  “Eat.” He all but put it in their hands over the papers. “I don’t need you being weak with hunger come morning, since we will be hiking.”

  The way those big, glowing eyes blinked said they were caught more off guard by the not quite command but more harsh than Alnyx had meant request. They slowly put the papers they held in a stack to the side and took the bowl from.

  “A pet owner and the mothering type. Don’t you continue to surprise?” Absinthe laughed when Alnyx’s eyes narrowed. “Joking, joking.”

  The three settled into the same easy silence as they had at the camp site on the road: Fish with his bone, Absinthe with a single-minded focus on the stew until the bowl was empty, and Alnyx looking over his gear to ensure he would be prepared for a fight. He dug a needle and thread out of a side pouch of his bag to deal with a small hole in one of his gloves. Always mouthing the words, as if they couldn’t stop their lips from moving for too long or they might forget to breathe, it was clear Absinthe barely touched their meal. Alnyx looked up from threading his needle, watching them as they went on. If they noticed the gaze, they didn’t say anything about it.

  “What do I call you?”

  The elf’s question got Absinthe’s attention quicker than the stew had. The arched eyebrow and look of something between confusion and annoyance almost made Alnyx swear out loud. Inelegance was the cruelest curse the Ancestors could have touched his bloodline with.

  “Earlier, the stupid guard said gentlemen and you said nothing. At the bar, Cinna never said he. Kept saying they. Marigold….You know her. So….What do I call you?”

  The annoyance left Absinthe’s eyes almost immediately. Reports set to the side and turning to face Alnyx, the elf couldn’t help but notice the way the dim light from the lantern softened their features. All but the glow of their eyes.

  “Have you been thinking about that this whole time?” The lack of an answer said more than words. “You sweet man.”

  This smile was different than the others Alnyx had seen them give. It was a crooked thing, showing teeth between full lips. They had jagged edges to them when you took the time to look at them. Like they were made to tear and rip flesh from bone. The low light caught every groove, but it wasn’t menacing or ferocious when paired with the curl at the corners of the lips.

  “I suppose it depends on the question you are trying to ask.” Absinthe continued after they had a moment to think. “Do you mean to ask if I have a….Wand or a regent pouch?”

  It took nearly as long of a moment of silence for Alnyx to piece the terribly lewd joke together. He looked quickly away, as if he had to stare each stitch of his mending down like an enemy for it to stick.

  “Sorry, sorry. I couldn’t help it. I come equipped with a wand in hand, not unlike your own sword I imagine. But, I don’t hold myself only to that. A reagent pouch. A crystal. Sometimes, no tool at all.”

  “So you….Call yourself He then?” Alnyx looked back up again, lips pursed into a frown.

  “It’s a word that they” the gesture Absinthe made to the tent flap made it clear who they meant, “understand. I have been called all matter of things. He. She. They It. Thing from a few particularly nasty people.”

  “But you do not call yourself those.” Especially not It. Alnyx couldn’t fathom the walking Peacock using that.

  “No, not really.”

  “So, what should I use?”

  Silence fell for a moment after Alnyx asked again, and Absinthe’s grin faltered as they looked anywhere but at the elf. Like they weren’t sure what answer to give. After giving it a thought, the crooked grin returned.

  “Just Absinthe.” They echoed the elf’s words from their first meeting, raising their eyes.

  “Just Absinthe.” Alnyx held their gaze for a moment before picking the glove up and going back to the stitching.

  Alnyx very much could feel he was being watched. Staring. Searching for something. But he didn’t look back. Finally there was the rustling of papers, the sound of them being shuffled together and piled up. From the corner of his eye, he could see the not so neat stack get set on the floor, and could hear when the worn cot moved as Absinthe lay down properly.

  “Good night, Just Alnyx.”

  “Good night, Just Absinthe.”

  * * *

  The camp was up with the sun, which meant the two of them were expected to be as well. Three really, but beyond a good full body shake and stretch, Fish required no time to get ready. Not like Absinthe apparently did. He hadn’t noticed it the night on the road, likely because he had more packing up to do than a night in a borrowed tent required. Every step and movement were labored, as if Absinthe was moving through waist-deep water. Alnyx couldn’t see how this zombie nearly burned someone to death like Cinna had said back at the Snakehead.

  “We will set off after the morning meal. With any luck, we can be back here within a day or so.”

  Absinthe answered with a grunt, combing their fingers through their hair only to have it fall right back into their half-closed eyes. Alnyx’s chuckle earned him a rather pointed glare.

  “And you mocked my lack of responses.”

  “Scholars are nocturnal. Early morning sun is bullshit.”

  “Are they now?”

  “This one is. Now shut up. Your voice is too much.”

  Alnyx was certain no one had ever accused him of talking too much. He managed to choke down a second laugh as the typically graceful creature stumbled as they pulled their boots on.

  “They better have tea.”

  “In a camp full of hunters?” Alnyx snorted.”Black coffee with no sugar at best.”

  “And they call us heathens.”

  He was the third son of the Elder of the Wind Nomads. Bearer of his clan’s Freedom and Pride. The watcher at his side blessed by a Priestess of Prophecy and Battle from the Giant tribes of the Northern Mountains. Alnyx felt almost physically nauseous when he noticed his heart rate quicken at the scowl on Absinthe’s lips when they took a moment to tie their hair back from their face.

  He would be taking a break from the guild after this, he decided when Absinthe apparently finally felt presentable enough to walk from the tent. No more partnered cases. No risk of this sort of distraction. He would already have to work to focus on the hunt today. Distractions like this were deadly.

  Tall. Svelte. A terrible morning person. And deadly.