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“I was just one hand that rose among many. We would’ve all died if not for fate and the acts of Manu’s wife.” She rounded back. “Ruein?”

No. Don’t draw me in.

Too late. She was cornered. Despite, or because of this man, Ruein choked down an urge to hide. With no other guests to hide among, she offered a sullen nod and willed a closer proximity to her appearance. Dirty burlaps shifted as her illusion readjusted. The shovel lengthened, the flat spade stretched into a glaive. Her ditchdigger guise reverted to reflect the necromancer mother of her children. She stood unhooded as her healthy, armored self.

Their guest’s head tilted. His look became a stare. “Your adornments, drow?”

“Heh, yes.” Liv inserted herself. “What flock doesn’t have a black sheep? Ruein…is ours.”

The man continued to peer at her. Normally not uncommon. While Ruein embraced the ire against necromancers, this scrutiny seemed…

A pall weighed upon her. Why did it tinge of shame?

The span between them stretched, so much so that Liv checked back at her. Self-awareness tugged at Ruein. She drew the twins in closer.

Liv reasserted, “And you are?”

“Hah!” Kaea burst with a laugh, wiping past tears. “Liv child, remember my bed tales of the Tabot campaign. How we came upon someone special held in the undermount? I am proud to say, this is he, Shegar Negrath.”

Liv’s jaw dropped. “Screw me. He’s a…dragon?”

Caleb piped up. “Advisor of Wyrm Vosylius, Liberator of Tabot, Warden of the Vast—”

“And consoler to those whom I owe so much.” Shegar leaned into Kaea. “I see she takes after your rascal tongue, Lightbringer. So, would you be able to host an old dragon such as I?”

“Don’t be absurd. Liv, please prepare my room for—”

“Actually,” Caleb interrupted, “this tent would be better suited. We’ve firm ground beneath. I provide for m’lord’s other needs.”

Nayr tugged at the old man’s finery. As Caleb leaned over, a string of beads swung from beneath his beard. The boy latched on. “Like…necklace. Warm.”

Caleb’s brow hiked. “Do you now? Hmm. You’ve a good eye, boy.”

Ruein gently drew her son back.

“Can?” asked Nayr.

“Oh, I don’t fancy your mother here would be all that grateful to have you jangling these about. You’re likely to set the whole place ablaze.”

“Agreed,” Ruein said.

“Heh, you know?”

“They’re incendiary, right?”

“And then some.” Caleb’s mouth pursed in the effort of uprighting himself. “Sometimes tired old men in service require the unexpected. These have kept me on my feet longer than most.”

Liv careened back to Shegar. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Since when do dragons look so damn regal…much less human?”

Shegar’s chin dipped. “Do tell, your father has taught about our deeper understandings. Where does one believe the draconic speak in casting spells originated?”

“Fair enough, but…” Liv waved hands over the breadth of the man and glared at her father.

“A dragon of Shegar’s stature isn’t about to hide behind illusions. His form is his to decide.” Kaea tipped back in examination. “And I must say, this suits you.”

Shegar’s finger tapped at an emblematic sun filigree. “I thought you might appreciate the small touches. In honor of your son…” His eyes drifted casually to Ruein. “…as well our aligned callings.”

Kaea beamed. “I cannot begin to say how much seeing you warms this beaten old heart. Tell me, what gains have you made? Have the fey been as receptive to the change?”

Loving waves emanated from their tear-streaked smiles. They cascaded from them as if a tide against Ruein. Memories told her she should be glad for them, yet that rearing centipede continued to hover. A thousand spindly legs prickled at her spine. She didn’t belong here. Staying seemed…dangerous.

Ruein eyed the exit.

The others were preoccupied. This would be better.

Ruein knelt beside her little girl. She placed a cool hand upon her curly locks. “Arim, can you quietly tell Auntie Liv we’re leaving now, then meet us at the courtyard?”

Her tiny thumb rose up and she gave a nod.

Ruein cross-slung her glaive and found cover within her hood. With a soft farewell to Caleb, she took Nayr’s hand and headed for the tent flap. The boy waved his own goodbye at the bearded gent as they slipped out unnoticed.

Coastal breezes aided in blowing off the last of her spinal crawls. She was nearly to the lighthouse when a pebble glanced off her shoulder.

She turned.

“What’s this?” Liv’s hushed indignance was unsurprising. “Skiving off before the cleanup?”

Her sister-in-law surged across the remaining distance, catching up. Little Arim’s bouncing strides easily kept pace.

“I shouldn’t be here,” said Ruein.

“And why not?”

Arim and Nayr jaunted ahead, likely to pet their mother’s gray mare.

“Think about it, Liv. How much would you want your guest to know about me?”

Her sister sniffed at the air, turning her gaze to their surroundings. She lapsed into a slow nod. “Shit. I suppose you’re right.” Liv rounded back and embraced her. “No need to worry. I’ve got you.”

A small pang needled beneath Ruein’s chest. The sense of it…almost hurt.

Shrugging off her sister, Ruein returned to her course.

“But hey, don’t mind us. We can be left with the hosting and grunt work. Lords know charisma and courtesies are two different things.” Liv plodded in her wake. “Not about to debate that, right? Any other way I can serve? Need changes for the children? Provisions?”

They crossed into the courtyard toward the already saddled Loress.

“I haven’t forgotten how to provide. Already stocked plenty at the flet.” Placing her boot in the stirrup, Ruein swung herself up. “If you’ve doubts, you’re welcome to join us.”

“Damn well know I can’t do that. We’ve too much to tend now.”

Liv hoisted Nayr up. “Look here, ya scallyworg, best take good care of each other. Don’t go climbing up into those upper eaves.” She passed him up, seating him before Ruein.

Arim beamed up at Liv and said, “I’ll keep watch, Auntie,” as she leapt into her arms.

“You do that. Don’t come back here all banged up from falling outta trees.”

Liv’s cheerful light faded as she seated the little girl behind Ruein. Arim wrapped her slender arms around her mother. Her embrace,

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