Tony was sulking with deep, principled disapproval. His paws were clean. The ground was firm. The air had finally stopped smelling like rot.

  And yet he walked like a creature betrayed by mud on a spiritual level.

  “You’re on dry land,” Miri told him.

  Tony lifted one paw mid-step, inspected it, and set it down again with visible reluctance.

  “He believes the marsh offended him personally,” Fen said.

  “It did,” Tamsin replied.

  Fen blinked. “It did?”

  “It touched him. Everyone knows you don't touch a cat without permission.”

  Miri wheezed.

  Tony gave Tamsin a slow blink of solidarity.

  They could see other travelers now — a pair of merchants heading north with a mule, a woman carrying bundled reeds, two young men arguing about the structural integrity of cart wheels.

  Normal sounds. Normal people.

  No bulging water. No sudden lunges.

  Miri hadn’t realized how much she’d been waiting for that until it arrived.

  Fen adjusted his shield strap. “If we see another crawler, I’m letting Tony handle it.”

  Tony’s ears flicked back.

  “You say that,” Miri said, “but you absolutely enjoyed the dinner plate incident.”

  “It’s a shield,” Fen said automatically.

  Tamsin glanced at him. “You named it.”

  “…That was tactical.”

  Miri stopped walking. “You named your shield?”

  Fen kept walking.

  “You cannot drop that and expect me to just—” Tony bumped into her from behind and nearly knocked her over. She staggered, laughing.

  Tamsin did not laugh, but her mouth did something dangerously close.

  Before long, they left all signs of the marsh behind and the road had widened again. Real grass. Real soil. Trees spaced instead of strangling each other.

  The road was busy enough that they had to step aside twice. First a pair of reed-cutters hauling bundled stalks on a sled. Then a narrow cart pulled by a mule that looked older than the bridge they’d crossed.

  The third group slowed when they saw Tony. Three people. Two guards, one older woman in layered travel robes walking with a carved cane that looked more symbolic than necessary.

  The guards’ hands drifted toward their weapons automatically.

  Tony yawned. Tamsin stepped forward before Miri could say anything. “Good afternoon,” she called easily.

  The man squinted at them, gaze sliding over Fen’s shield, Tony’s size, Miri’s sword. “Afternoon,” he replied cautiously.

  “Road ahead passable?” Tamsin asked.

  “Better than the marsh,” the woman snorted. “You already passed through the worst.”

  Tamsin nodded once. “Any recent monster activity near town?”

  “Nothing you four can’t handle,” the man said, eyeing Tony again. “Saw some river drakes last week but the guild cleared ’em.”

  Miri perked up. “Drakes?”

  “Small ones,” the woman waved dismissively. “More teeth than brains.”

  Tamsin shifted slightly, adjusting the angle of the conversation like she was adjusting a bowstring. “How busy is town this week?”

  The woman rolled her eyes. “Oh, it’s busy. Harvest market’s setting up. And there’s that group canvasing for donations again.”

  “For what?” Fen asked.

  “‘Civic Beautification,’” the man said flatly. “They want to put lanterns shaped like swans along the river walk.”

  Fen blinked. “That sounds nice.”

  “It’s ten silver per swan,” the woman snapped. “Per swan.”

  Miri gasped softly. “Per swan? That’s criminal!” She slapped at Fen with the back of her hand.

  “Monstrous,” Fen agreed with only a slight delay

  Tamsin’s mouth twitched almost imperceptibly. “Any guild postings of note?” she asked.

  “Standard contracts. Pest control, escort work. Someone’s cat familiar ran off again.” The woman looked at Tony. “Not that kind.”

  Tony stared back, deeply offended.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “Thank you,” Tamsin said smoothly. “We appreciate it.”

  The man hesitated, then nodded toward Tony. “That cat bite?”

  “Yes,” Miri said cheerfully.

  They parted without drama.

  As the wagon creaked past, the woman leaned slightly toward Miri and said in a conspiratorial whisper: “If anyone asks you to sponsor a swan, say you already bought three.”

  “Noted,” Miri whispered back.

  Once they were out of earshot—

  Fen grinned. “Ten silver per swan.”

  “We are not buying a swan,” Tamsin said calmly.

  “Not even one?”

  “No.”

  Miri tilted her head. “What if we buy a single aggressive goose instead?”

  Tamsin did not break stride. “We are not funding waterfowl.”

  Tony huffed approvingly.

  Fen leaned toward Miri. “We could start a rival faction. Functional Lanterns.”

  “Practical Illumination,” she corrected.

  Tamsin glanced back at them. “I will handle the coin,” Tamsin said calmly. “You are both one persuasive speech away from purchasing a goat.”

  Miri blinked. “Was that a joke?”

  Tamsin kept walking.

  In absolute shock, Miri stopped in the middle of the road. “You made a joke,” she called to Tamsin’s back.

  Fen’s grin widened. “I like her.”

  Tony flicked his tail once, as if to say: obviously.

  Miri hurried to catch up with the group as they crested a low hill. From there they could see it — the faint outline of stone walls in the distance.

  North Downing.

  Miri slowed without meaning to. A few weeks ago she had been terrified of every unknown bend in the road. Now she felt… ready.

  Different.

  Behind her, Fen adjusted his shield strap. “You good?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Yeah.” She was.

  Tamsin stopped beside her, eyes on the distant walls. “We arrive tomorrow,” she said. “Let’s camp near the road tonight.”

  They set up camp quickly with the ease of having done it in mud for the last few weeks. The ground here was firmer, the air drier. Real grass instead of treacherous moss.

  Fen had built the fire low and wide, more coals than flame.

  Tony lay stretched on his side, paws twitching faintly as he dreamed. Fen sat cross-legged opposite Miri, sanding a shallow gouge out of his shield’s rim with patient strokes. Tamsin had her bow across her lap, re-waxing the string with slow precision.

  The quiet was easy.

  Miri stared into the coals. “Okay,” she said eventually. “Let’s talk about the mysterious high-level warder.”

  Fen glanced up. “That’s us being responsible, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” Tamsin said calmly. “Try not to ruin it.”

  Miri huffed.

  “All we know,” Tamsin continued, “is that Helmsworth posted for a warder capable of reinforcing or repairing advanced ward structures. High pay. Blue ribbon urgent.”

  “And no details,” Miri added. “Which either means privacy… or panic.”

  Fen tilted his head. “If it was panic, wouldn’t they say so?”

  “Guild postings don’t say ‘panic,’” Tamsin replied. “They say ‘discretion appreciated.’”

  Miri leaned back on her palms. “We don’t even know if the warder is in town right now. Or he could be reclusive or secretly a twelve-year-old prodigy.”

  Fen brightened. “That would be impressive.”

  Miri wondered if they would have to ask the warder’s parents if they could take him back to Helmswo— She did not finish the ridiculous thought.

  “Do we assume the town is in danger?” Fen asked.

  “No,” Tamsin said immediately.

  Miri glanced at her.

  Tamsin met her look. “If Helmsworth were actively failing, trade would slow. We saw no sign of that on the river. No caravan diversions. No armed escorts doubled.”

  Fen nodded slowly. “So this is maintenance.”

  “Or expansion,” Miri said. “Or something broke and they don’t want to admit it.”

  “That too,” Tamsin allowed.

  The coals shifted, throwing off a few sparks in the darkness.

  Miri hugged her knees loosely. “So tomorrow. We arrive. We check in with the Guild first, confirm the contract details and verify the warder’s location.”

  “And secure lodging,” Tamsin added. “We do not negotiate with a specialist while sleeping in a ditch.”

  Fen raised a hand slightly. “I am very good at sleeping in ditches.”

  “We are aiming higher,” Tamsin replied.

  Miri smiled at that. “Room first,” she agreed. “Guild second. Warder third.”

  “Guild first,” Tamsin corrected.

  “Fine. Guild first. Room second. Warder third.”

  Fen set his shield aside and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “For the record, I’m in.”

  Tamsin glanced at him. “In?”

  “With you,” he clarified. “Through the return trip. Helmsworth, at least.”

  Miri studied him for a moment. “You’re not worried about… obligations?”

  Fen shrugged easily. “My family would prefer I succeed spectacularly. But they mostly prefer I stay alive.” He tapped a small leather case at his belt. “I’ve got a communicator. Paired crystal. If we need to split ways later, I can send word south.”

  Miri blinked. “You’ve just been carrying that?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s wildly useful.”

  Tamsin’s eyes narrowed faintly. “Range?”

  “Limited,” Fen admitted. “But enough to reassure people I’m not decomposing in a bog.”

  Miri nodded slowly. That… mattered more than she expected.

  He was choosing to stay.

  “Good,” she said simply.

  Tony rolled onto his back with a dramatic huff, paws in the air.

  Fen glanced at him. “He’s in too?”

  “I’m his person,” was all Miri said. Tony’s tail thumped once in confirmation.

  Tamsin finished waxing the string and set the bow aside. “Then we are aligned. We arrive midmorning if the road remains stable.”

  Fen nodded. “Meet Guild. Secure room. Locate warder.”

  “And if the warder refuses?” Miri asked.

  “Then we persuade,” Tamsin said evenly. Miri laughed softly.

  The plan settled between them — simple, orderly. No dramatic speculation. No spiraling.

  Tomorrow would be administrative. Mildly inconvenient at worst.

  Miri lay back, folding one arm under her head. The sky above was clearer tonight. Fewer trees. More stars. “Feels almost easy,” she murmured.

  Tamsin glanced at her. “It should.”

  Fen nodded once. “We handled the marsh. A town with a professional mage should be manageable.”

  Tony rolled onto his side and pressed against Miri’s hip, heavy and warm.

  Miri scratched absently behind his ear. “Right,” she said softly. “Manageable.”

  The coals dimmed further and one by one, they lay down.

  Tomorrow would be simple — guild paperwork, a room with real walls, a conversation with a warder, and then back on the road north.

  Quick in. Quick out.

  No reason for it to be complicated at all.