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Vandraport by this late hour. This one came from town.

Ruein clicked the door shut, then returned to the expanse of the flet. She crossed to the opposite rail and looked out the hundred yards or so to the road.

The voice continued its swing in verse. Ruein made out the turning of wheels and the occasional glimpse of a swaying lantern. Yet, rather than continuing along, the light made a turn. The song became clearer as the wagon drew closer.

While Ruein and Aequen had both valued the privacy of a hidden, forest home, neither had had use for lights in the dark. Glancing about the living quarters—Crap!—her abundance of lanterns had made them all too easy to find.

She checked her mirror.

The song became clearer and also took on a familiar gnomish pitch.

“…was a very old orc was he.

He gnashed his teeth on the bark of a tree,

for the splinters he’d shat at his enemies.

Yet, through his chews, he found his jewels,

had grown in size you see.

For the meat of the tree was murder free,

and the—”

“Enough!” Bellowed a half-orc. “This not happen. No self-respectable orc would ever only eat…vegetableses.”

From Ruein’s view over the rail, Ceer and Twigs’ horse-drawn covered wagon rolled up. The diminutive gnome stood in the bench saddle, waving a knotted staff. “Hi, Rue.”

No.

The tusked brute seated alongside announced, “Ceer seeks necromancer of Vandraport!”

Ruein glanced at the children’s door, then fired back down on the pair, “Shush! I just put the children to bed. If any deserves rest, it’s those two. And, Ceer, I would have you know that I am the sole necromancer of Vandraport. There will be no others…not after.”

The two eyed one another then turned back to Ruein. Ceer opened his mouth just as Twigs slapped a palm over it. In a hush, the gnome called up, “Yes. About that. It’s why we’re here. You see, we’re under contract and could use your insights. Would it be alright if we brought our patron up to discuss an offer?”

Frustrations shifted to curiosity. An offer? She had never worked with this duo before, but they’d frequented Commercery back rooms many times in the past. They’d shared several conversations over drinks at old tables. Garbed in his usual linens and burlaps, the gnome was a nature-hugging druid. His friend, the clean-shaven and tattooed half-orc was unsurprisingly a warrior, however one whose weapons-of-choice didn’t stray beyond his own fists. In contrast to his roughneck orc brethren, he took a more philosophical path…

…at least, in a self-singular way.

In her previous life, she had achieved a level of familiarity with the half-orc and gnome. Would that extend to Ruein?

Is this something I might want?

Her mind resettled upon the twins. This wasn’t even a debate. She wasn’t going anywhere. Not least while they were under her care.

Still, no harm in entertaining.

Ruein cast a halfhearted wave. She strode to the pulley and began to work the vines, lowering the flexible limb. Ceer climbed from the wagon and perched Twigs upon his shoulder. From the cart’s rear, a third figure climbed out. It was a woman in arcane robes, clasping the handle of a wooden box.

The dark of night hid nothing from Ruein’s eyes. That was necromantic garb. Not having seen her fully dressed before, Ruein recognized her all the same: Ackeber of the Doctorate.

A sneer lanced across her face.

Ackeber’s cabal had tried to take Ruein. Own her. To murder Liv! Something within Ruein shook.

Twigs called up from Ceer’s shoulder. “I understand the two of you have some recent history. I assured our patron that she would be safe with us. Hence her need to allow for our introductions.”

The two escorted the woman to the limb’s platform and they stepped up onto it.

Black flames ignited through Ruein’s mind. They ebbed to and fro. Singeing vindication burned between her allies’ respect…over disdain of her.

She could leave them down there. But then again, if she wanted to act upon her wishes, it would be far easier were she closer.

Her arms worked the platform’s pulleys. They rose, coming level with the front entrance. Ruein strode to the door, opened it, and waited for them to enter. A wary look flicked from Ackeber.

Ceer leaned and extended his arm toward the porch.

With a dismount, Twigs slid the arm’s length, landing with a wooden staff thump upon the stoop. He smiled up at Ruein then took in the interior through the gap. His chest heaved. “Simply a stunning place you’ve taken on here. I recognize my people’s craftiness.” He regarded Ruein. “Shall we take care not to spill anything on such beauty?’

Twigs passed inside and turned back.

Ceer sidestepped the stoop to allow Ackeber entrance. Her eyes, an overflowing vessel of caution, moved as if not to spill. Ruein’s vacant stare followed her as she crossed a hair’s breadth from her.

The half-orc dipped his head to clear the doorway.

Ruein didn’t bother with the door. Instead, she crossed to the other side of the room. From the rail, it was easier to control the flames within by not looking back. She focused on the night gray of the forest canopy. “Say your piece.”

Twigs spoke. “The lady Ackeber tells, and it is plainly obvious, that the two of you recently got onto bad beginnings. She did the smart thing and came looking for friends to advocate, to help heal any wounds.”

Ceer piped up, “Lady afraid Rue kill on spot.”

Ruein shot him a look.

That name. Of course, they didn’t know.

“I assured her that our friend would never be so rash,” added Twigs.

Ackeber hovered just behind Twigs and ruffled his sandy locks. The gnome flinched, scowling in return.

Smirking, Ackeber turned her attention to Ruein. “Clearly, we of the Doctorate got off on a wrong foot. Our little morning mixup, which you did instigate, was not normally how we’d respond to fellow necromancers.”

Ruein refocused upon the eaves of the forest. The black flames within her mind tantalized at the edges. She cocked her head, emitting a dry crick. “And you thought my friends would protect you.”

“That was the

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