Be Thou My Good: Chapter 16 (Patreon)

Chapter 16: Refuge in Audacity

“Thanks for the trip.”

Hunter swung down from his horse, flicking the reins at Archer.

She snatched them out of the air. “Say hi to mom and dad for me!”

Hunter grunted, his eyes flicking to me. “Feel free to come by,” he said. “They make good bread.”

“I’ll see if I can’t get some alone time.”

In reply, he flipped up the hood of his bearskin and slipped silently into the house.

Archer threw an arm over my shoulder. “What a stick in the mud, huh? I offered to pay for his first drink and everything.”

“Maybe he would have stuck around for two.”

“Next time.” She nudged our horses forward with a laugh. “Gods below, I still can’t believe you talked a Fae into exploding!” She waved a hand to the crowd. “Hear that? My friend made a faeri explode. With her voice!”

Some of the closest people let out a cheer, or even applauded—apparently the fae weren’t popular—but most people in Refuge had places to be.

Archer hummed happily, waving back to familiar faces as she urged our mounts down the boulevard. Busy or not, no one wanted to get in Archer’s way, and she took it happily, sending us trotting deeper into Refuge.

“There’s a two in three chance that story’s worth a free drink,” she said. “And a one third chance they throw us out for lying.”

“So you’re saying you’d give Hunter both of the drinks?”

“No splitting hypothetical drinks.” She flashed a grin. “Bar crawl, on the other hand? Can’t think of a better way to show you Refuge.”

Indrani never said sorry. She certainly hadn’t admitted she was wrong. I wondered if she could.

But she did stop bullying Hunter after our encounter in the fae wilds.

I took the olive branch for what it was. “I’d love to see your home.”

“Psh.” Indrani waved a hand. “I wouldn’t call it my home. One thing Hunter got right: the Waning Woods are much better.”

On the other hand, just because she’d stopped irritating the wound, didn’t mean it had healed. I pondered that as I followed after. “The woods filled with monsters that eat people.”

“Don’t worry, Weaver.” She flashed me a smile. “I’ll keep you safe.”

I rolled my eyes. “Where’s the nearest drinking hole? I’m sure your lines improve with whisky.”

“They do.” If anything, her smile only grew wider, dark eyes glittering. “Let me show you around.” She pointed. “I broke my wrist trying to do a backflip from that balcony the first time. Concocter dared me. ‘Course, when I got it on the second try, I made her drink two random concoctions, and she was belching green slugs for a week!” She giggled. “And up there is where Silver and I used to have our semi-bi-weekly archery competitions, till the proprietor chased us off. With rocks!”

I let the words wash over me. For all that Archer said Refuge wasn’t her home, she sounded fond of the place. From her stories, it was hard to imagine why.

The place, though about the size of Marcheford, was smaller than I pictured when I’d heard ‘city’. Too small for how many Named did—or perhaps didn’t—call it home. From what Archer and Hunter said, it led to many of Ranger’s protégés carving out their own slice of the woods, escaping Refuge to seek refuge.

I wonder if they saw the irony.

Only a thin palisade separated the city from the waning woods. Well-maintained or not, it was hard to distance yourself from the trees when many of them stood taller than the walls. The main street was generously wide and paved with large flat stones, but walkways that branched off were made from wood.

Almost everything was made from wood.

“And up here—”

“What’s that?” I pointed at the only stone building on the street.

“Oh, the Dwarven consulate.”

I blinked. “Dwarves?” The building was built and carved to look like a three story mountain, with two stout figures in full armor at its gate. Their helmets even had intricate beards carved into the metal. “I can see it.”

“Well, technically it’s the consulate of the Kingdom Under.” After clarifying she grinned. “Some of us used to try to sneak past the guards, just to see if we could.”

I rubbed my eyes at the thought of a bunch of baby Named creeping up on two dwarves. “I can see that, too.”

She puffed out her chest. “I made it the farthest.”

“And how far was that?”

“I got a finger on the handle once.” She looked inordinately pleased by the fact.

I raised an eyebrow. “I can’t see you stopping before you had a chance to kick down the door.”

Archer shrugged. “Got less interesting when we realized they weren’t actual dwarves.”

I turned back to the armored figures, taking in their thick halberds and heavy plate. “Really?”

“They’re some kind of golem.” She blew out a breath. “I’m pretty sure there’s no one in the consulate except when Ranger is in town, so what’s the point even.”

“How do you know there’s even a consul?”

Archer shrugged. “Saw him meet with Ranger exactly twice, and it was a different dwarf each time.”

I paused, rolling over that thought. There was a chance that a few dwarves lived full time in the building and grew their own food, but the far more likely option…

“You’re saying that the dwarves have a tunnel from Refuge to the Kingdom Under, and you never broke in to see it?”

Archer paused, mouth working silently. “Okay, in my defense—”

“You,” I said. “You weren’t curious.”

“In my defense I was young and stupid and Concocter set off a bomb in my camp later that week. It turned my hair blue.” She pulled a face. “But not like, all blue. It was really patchy, actually. I hated it.”

I nodded. “So naturally you spent the next however long getting even.”

“Not that long.” Archer stretched.

“And after that everyone was over it.”

“Over it.” Archer rolled her tongue, as if tasting the phrase. “I love that. Yeah we were so over it. Beastmaster pitched a fit about how we were tricked and everything.”

“Archer.”

“Yes?”

“You’re telling me no one knows what’s inside the Consulate.”

She looked at me, before her face broke out into a wide grin. “Yes. That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

I turned back to the building, feeling the weave tugging me onward. “You can show me the rest of Refuge some other time.”

“Betcha I can make it through the front door this time.”

“What?” I shook my head, feeling the way the story started to unfold around me. It was so much more faint here, in Creation. But I could feel paths the story could take. I knew the one I wanted to follow, its threads spreading out all across the city.

And one leading back the way we came.

It was not an answer to the noose wrapped round Hunter and Archer. But the weave cut so deeply into both of them, perhaps this story would relieve the pressure. If I could cut my friends free of their snare…

“This isn’t a smash and grab,” I said “It’s a heist.”

She tilted her head, interested despite herself. “A heist with who?”

“Archer.” I said for the third time. “None of the Named in Refuge knows what lies within the Dwarven Consulate.”

“Oh?” She paused. “Ooooh…You want to get everyone together.”

“And break in.”

She pulled a face.

“Not a fan?” I asked.

“Taylor, did you miss the point where we all hate each other?”

I looked out over Refuge, the threads strengthening with each second.

“How about this. I’ll convince Hunter.”

Archer pulled a face.

“Come on, Indrani.” I leaned forward in the saddle. “Aren’t you just a little bit curious?”

“I could just break in by myself.”

“Not if there’s anything important,” I replied. “I bet the door is just a distraction, same as the guards. We’re going to need to find another way in.”

“What other way in?” Archer asked. “It’s a mountain.”

I turned my horse around. “Leave that to me.”

With that, I spurred my mount back down the street, the same crowd that had parted around us making way once more. Many of them didn’t even need to look back, but I guess you get used to Named nonsense, living in a place like Refuge.

Behind me, I heard Archer muttering. “Leave it to her, leave what…Hey, idiot! We don’t have a place to meet up!”

I waved. From Archer’s stories alone, there had to be nearly half a dozen Named that could track a person in town; I didn’t imagine we’d have any trouble finding each other.

Hunter opened the door to his house after I knocked on it twice.

“When I said ‘come over later’,” he said. “I didn’t mean in the next bell.”

I nodded, smiling at his mother over his shoulder. “Hello Mrs. Hunter.”

“Mrs. Hunter?” She chortled as she cleaned her hands on a flour-stained apron. “Well, isn’t that sweet. John, you didn’t tell me your new friend was such a nice girl.”

Hunter sighed. “Might as well come inside.”

I followed the two of them through the bakery on the first floor, smiling through some basic pleasantries with John’s mother. She offered me something reminiscent of ciabatta, with a lovely fruit spread she made ‘on the side’.

“Do you sell this?” I asked.

“Oh, just a bit.” She waved when I reached for my coin purse. “I’ll fetch a jar from the cellar. But we don’t have much need for outside coin.”

“Why not?”

“Caravan only comes through but once a year if even.” Mrs. Hunter smiled at her boy. “John is usually one of the escorts, though I imagine now…”

“Missing a hand won’t slow me down,” he said. His mother looked doubtful.

“I have just the thing to shake the rust off.” I gave his mother a smile. “Something to get Hunter back into the swing of things, without putting him in any more danger.”

She gave me a look of my own. Still, she stood up and patted off her apron. “Well, I suppose I’ll see about a jar of preserves while you two talk. I know the word of a baker aren’t worth much, but do right by my John.”

I nodded.

After his mother bustled out of the sitting room, Hunter gave me a long look. “So, what do you want?”

I steepled my fingers. “Do you know what’s inside the Dwarven Consulate?”

Hunter groaned into his hand. “Drani put you up to this.”

“Actually, I put her up to this.” I smirked. “She’s running around getting the rest of the team together.”

He lifted his head. “You realize we all hate each other.”

“Funny, Indrani said the exact same thing.” I held out my hand. “So, are you in or you out?”

“Don’t think you’ll need more than two named to break down the door.”

“What do you take me for?” I frowned. “This is going to be a sophisticated operation, bringing together the best minds of Refuge in an operation the likes of which this town has never seen.”

He blinked, surprised at the energy in my voice. “Then what in the hells d’you need me for?”

I grinned. “To start with, I was hoping you could hunt down some blueprints.” That was the start of any good heist.

“My Name doesn’t work like that.”

“Are you sure?” My Name was Weaver, my first aspect was Unravel, and thus far I’d yet to touch needle or thread. “Or is that just how you’ve used your name up until now?” After my encounter with the Bard, after seeing the rigid weave of the Fae wilds, it was clear that names were much more flexible than most named understood.

‘Bard’ didn’t have anything to do with manipulating the nothingness beyond reality, certainly.

I was beginning to suspect that the strongest Named were those that stretched the boundaries of their powers, the boundaries of their role.

And if my little adventure helped Archer and the rest of her not-friends, so much the better.

“We didn’t build the consulate.” Hunter shook his head. “Where would the plans even be?”

“That’s your job.” I stood. “Unless you’re not interested.”

He glared.

But he followed me to the door where his mother was waiting with a jar of jam. She smiled at her grumbling son, saying something about how it was good that he was getting back on the horse.

“You have nice parents.”

He started down the street.

With a shrug, I tucked the jar into my saddlebags where it would save for the trip back, and quickly followed into the nearest side street.

“You have an idea?”

“Only one place something like that could be.” He pointed.

Refuge was built on a hill. It gave the palisade a few extra feet to keep out the beasts. You’d think the most important building in the town would be at the top, and in a sense it was. Rather than a town hall, or a church, or keep, at the highest point of refuge was a mid-sized house that I was told Ranger almost never used.

Hunter was pointing to it now.

“I don’t imagine the Lady will be happy with you breaking in?”

“Only if I get strung up by the traps.”

He didn’t elaborate, and the walk itself was shorter than expected. The closer we got to Ranger’s house the less people we came across, and soon enough we stood at her front door.

“Wait out here until I call,” Hunter said.

I shrugged, folding my hands.

With a sigh, he started around the side of the house. I watched silently as he picked the garden door. Hunter pressed against the wall before pushing the door open. A brace of arrows shot out, skewering the poor tulips.

“Who maintains the garden while she’s away?”

“Concocter.” Hunter dipped inside.

The sound of clanks and whistles, even a hiss of steam, followed. I found myself wondering what kind of traps Ranger set up, and if she could even remember them all.

After a spear and two pairs of boots came flying out the door, Hunter finally called me inside.

I peeked my head into the house. “Where are you?”

“Over here.” He waved a hand from down the hall. “Don’t go into any of the rooms, and if you take anything, Ranger will show up to pry it from your dead hands.”

I looked around, picking my way gingerly past the dismantled traps. “I don’t doubt it.”

It looked more like an extended trophy room than a house. Even the hall was strewn with…well, the contents defied easy categorization.

Weapons and armor, but also marble busts, inlaid scrolls. Through an open door, I saw a jar filled with a gently glowing bloom.

The stairs to the upper floor sat completely clean. I left them alone and instead stepped into a small study with Hunter.

“Think I found something.” He held out thin roll of parchment. “Figured it’d be in the ‘shit she doesn’t care about’ study.”

“There’s a shit she does care about study?” I took the parchment.

Hunter shrugged. “Upstairs. Only made it there once. Didn’t feel like trying the desk.”

Was the entire house just built for baby Named to cut their teeth on? My respect for Ranger increased; training a bunch of irrational superhumans wasn’t easy work. Unfurling the parchment, I took in what looked like a cross section of a mountain, except for, of course, that there were rooms inside.

“Now that’s interesting.” I smiled. When was the last time I planned a real robbery? Not since the Undersiders. “C’mon, let’s go find Archer.”

“Where is she?”

“No clue.”

There was a flutter of cloth when I stepped outside. I grunted as something hit me on the shoulders and took me to the ground.

“That’s cause I’m right here!” Indrani said.

I turned my head to the side, spitting out a mouthful of dirt. “How fortuitous.”

“So, whatcha find?” she asked.

“Let me up and I’ll show you.”

Indrani shifted her weight so that she was sitting in the small of my back. “And if I say no?”

“Oh, for gods’ sake, let your girlfriend up, Archer.”

“You’re no fun.” I could hear the pout in Archer’s voice.

“I didn’t come here to watch you flirt,” replied the newcomer.

With a sigh, Indrani pulled me upright.

A few other Named stood in the garden, including the young woman who was glaring at Indrani. While the rest were a rough and tumble bunch, she was well-coiffed and better dressed, with long hair running down her back like a shimmering oil slick.

“Thank you for the assist.”  I brushed myself off. “What do you use in your hair, by the way? I’ve had trouble finding good products.”

The woman cocked her head. “My own concoctions.” Then, after a moment. “You don’t seem to be doing too poorly, yourself.”

“Thank you. Dealing with knots on campaign is a nightmare.” I held out my hand. “You must be Concocter.”

“Charmed I’m sure.” She took my hand limply. “And I don’t sell.”

“Not even for the most delicious peach preserves?”

“What?”

At my back, Hunter nodded. “You’ll not find better in all of Refuge.”

“What?”

“Now who’s flirting.” Indrani threw an arm over my shoulders. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

I looked at the other three named in the garden. “Why don’t we go inside? The ambiance is perfect for this.”

“What?”

I looked Concoctor in the eye. “Believe me, the ambiance is important.”

It took more time to convince them to go inside than it did to disarm the traps in a nicely-decorated sitting room, but that was rather in keeping with Named nonsense.

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” I said. “What I’m about to propose is an alliance for the greater good.”

Around the room stood Archer and Hunter, along with Concoctor, Beastmaster, and the Silver Huntress. Beastmaster had a vulture sitting on his shoulder, its massive wingspan almost doubling the silhouette of his high-backed chair.

“You’ve already lost me.” The Silver Huntress tossed her head, starting towards the door. “Watch out next time you’re back, Archer.”

“A long time ago, each and every one of you gave up finding out what lay withing the Dwarven Consulate.” I threw the plans on the table, and Huntress paused. “You’ll note that at the lowest level, there’s a prize that no one ever reached.”

Beastmaster’s eyes narrowed. “Treasury.”

“That place has treasure?”

“Under your feet the entire time.” I nodded. “And I have a plan to get it.”