David sat up groaning and clutching his throat. He was hot and itchy. The room smelled sweet, like freshly cut talups. His father was hammering something next door. He opened his eyes and pushed away the last remnants of a dream—sprawling cities of stone and metal, reaching far beyond the horizon, unlike anything Mom told him about the actual cities.

  At the other end of the hut, Mom was slicing vegetables. This close to the Long Night, he couldn't hope for the usual meat.

  “Another nightmare?” She asked, glancing over her shoulder and smiling. She put the knife down, came over, and pressed the back of her hand against his forehead. He liked when she did that. “Your fever's down a bit,” she said, relief clear on her face. “Can you deliver the tools today?”

  “Sure. I feel a lot better.” He swung his legs over the side of the bed, and touched the rough wooden floor with his bare feet. It was too coarse somehow, unpleasant to walk on.

  Mom walked to the fireplace, ladled some boiled boraks into a wooden bowl, added some talups, and set it on the table next to his bed. “Eat up, sweetie.” She started toward the door. “When you're done, come outside. I need your help with an errand.”

  David shuffled to the table and sat, but when he picked up the wooden spoon beside his bowl and turned it over in his stubby fingers it didn’t feel right. Too light, he thought as he weighed it. Though he was already thirteen—practically a grown man—his arms were thin and frail, barely more than sticks wrapped in skin, and his legs swung from the chair without touching the ground. He felt like he’d been stuffed into clothing too small to fit. He’d never felt that way.

  He scarfed down the almost flavorless boiled boraks, leaving the tasty, earthy talups for last. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, slipped his shoes on, and headed for the door. Outside, his mom and dad were hunched over, counting a small pile of silver coins on weathered cloth. The sky was clear blue except for the gas giant hanging there, impossibly large, its swirling, vibrant reds, purples, and blues seeming to pulse and breathe as if alive. The warm breeze brought usual mix of smells—manure, tanning leather, wood smoke. Though he had years to get used to the putrid smells, today, for some reason, he couldn’t help but breathe through his mouth.

  “Axes for Dan and Felt are ready,” Dad said. “They're in front of the smithy.”

  “And I need some herbs from Sophie,” his mom added. “The caravan just arrived, so we're a bit tight on time.”

  Mom was an alchemist. David often helped her with fetching and carrying and grinding, but it used to be a chore. “For potions?” he asked.

  Mom stole a quick glance at Dad. “They're for something special,” she said. “Think you can handle the trip with your fever?”

  “Sure.” David nodded then walked over to his father’s large open-air forge. He grabbed the repaired axes from against the back wall and carried them one in each hand. Hefty, but nothing he couldn’t manage.

  Felt's house was halfway to the square. The road was densely lined with wooden homes and workhouses of various kinds. A few villagers were out and about and greeted him with nods and forced smiles. As David walked through the village, he stared up at the humongous planet staring down at him. Exactly the same as yesterday and every day before that and yet… an impossible sight.

  When he got to Felt’s house, he knocked a few times, but no one answered. It was late morning already, so she was probably already in the forest. He left her axe by the door and headed for Dan’s.

  Whenever his fever eased, David delivered stuff his Dad had fixed the previous day. Sometimes there would be nothing, and he could spend time with Alicja. If she had the time for him, which used to be always when they were younger. This close to the Long Night, it didn't feel like anyone had time to waste.

  A group of women who would normally be working the hides in the tannery were sitting in a circle on the ground, sharpening thick branches with their carving knives and tying them together with rough cord. Father told him before that they were making some sort of movable spiky fences.

  Travon and Luis came up to the women and hefted a part of the palisade away. While David walked and watched them, his foot caught on a patch of uneven ground, and he stumbled forward, flailing his arms. Gravity won out, and he tumbled to the ground with a soft thud, losing his grip on the axe and scraping his hands. “Great,” he muttered, wiping away the dust stinging his eyes. “Real smooth.”

  A hand reached down to him, slender but calloused, and he grabbed it without thinking.

  “Are you okay, David?” It was Sophie. She was hiding a smile with her free hand. Her green hair was neatly braided as always, and her bright brown eyes sparkled in the sunlight.

  David coughed and patted the dust from his clothes. “Uh… thanks.” His cheeks flushed warm. Another thing she’d never let him live down. “I'm fine. I have your dad's axe.” He picked the tool up from the ground. “And Mom needs her herbs.”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  Sophie gave him a big smile that lit up her whole face. “Lucky her. I found the firebloom she needed the day before yesterday. Alright, come on.” She motioned for David to follow her to her house, a small wooden rectangle near the edge of the square. He trailed behind her, still feeling like a fool.

  Sophie’s pa was sitting on a stool outside the door, mending a brigandine. She stopped in front of the door and threw her arms around him. “Pa, I'm going to Aura's to deliver some herbs.” She went inside without waiting for a response.

  Pa shouted after her. “When you're there, ask Bert if he's done with my axe!”

  “David has it,” Sophie yelled from inside the house.

  David was halfway finished sneakily cleaning the axe of the dust and dirt from his fall. He stopped and leaned it by the door. “I fell,” he said. Sophie's pa shook his head, but didn't say anything.

  David went inside and found Sophie pulling herbs from a bundle. “Is that the firebloom?” he asked, pointing at a large bundle of fiery-red petals and prodding Sophie's shoulder with his other hand. He'd seen Mom carrying the flowers often enough, but had never thought to ask about them.

  “Goddess!” Sophie said, nearly dropping the bundle of herbs. “Don't poke me!”

  “Sorry, I didn't mean to…” He realized he did mean to, so he just raised his hands.

  Sophie took a loud breath and touched a red petal. “It is—I had to go way past the river for it.”

  “You went into the forest right before the Long Night?” David knew she was brave and skilled enough to gather in the forest alone though she was barely eighteen, but it still seemed reckless. “Weren't you scared? What if you ran into boarlets like Lillie and her group?”

  “They were just unlucky,” Sophie said. “Boarmen don't usually come that close to the village.” She picked up the bundle of firebloom and put it in an already overflowing herb baskets. “We've got fresh voel, dried liferoot, and firebloom. Everything Aura asked for.”

  She handed him the basket. It wasn't heavy, but the dried leaves and twigs teeming over the top made it unwieldy. Sophie grabbed another basket, followed David out, and they started back to his house.

  “A few days ago,” Sophie said, chatty as usual, “I saw an ironskin stag. Can you believe it? I wonder if someone could tame and ride one.”

  David shrugged. “Sounds like a great way to die.” He looked at the forested hills pressing against the edge of their village and felt something stir in the shadowed depths.

  “You're no fun,” Sophie said with a laugh. “It would be amazing, wouldn’t it?”

  “Sounds like something I’d see in a nightmare. And I have way too many of those already. Don’t need one with an animal that can rip my head off.”

  “Then what would you like to dream about?” Sophie stabbed her finger into his arm. “Cute girls?”

  “Not really? I did once see a golden woman with a veil on her face.” He chuckled. “But I wouldn't call her cute.”

  Sophie pouted. “You were supposed to get flustered, not actually answer. You really are no fun today.”

  “Everyone has to grow eventually.”

  By the time they reached his hut, she had jumped, like an endless stream, between at least ten more topics. They failed to stick, but David enjoyed it anyway.

  Mom and Dad were already back from their errand. Dad was weighing the almost empty pouch. Mom was sitting on the grass, vigorously polishing a small vial with a cloth. She always kept her equipment pristine, but she seemed to be going way overboard on that one.

  “A quarter up! A whole quarter!” Dad spat on the ground and rolled the coin between his fingers. “Damned trolls picked the worst possible moment. We should have stocked up on iron.”

  “We couldn't have known,” Mom said.

  When Mom saw David and Sophie, she managed a crooked smile. She got up, tucked the vial into her belt pouch, and took the herbs from Sophie. “You found another firebloom! Perfect!” She sorted through the bundles with practiced efficiency.

  Bert glanced at her, his brows knitting together. “Perfect for what?”

  “Oh, just another project, nothing big,” Mom said, avoiding his gaze. Dad just shook his head.

  “Always happy to help, Aura,” Sophie said, bowing slightly. She turned to Bert and pulled out a knife from her belt. “I nicked another one, is my old knife ready?”

  “It's at the smithy,” Dad said and started walking toward the open-air forge.

  Sophie waved goodbye to Mom and hurried after Dad. David watched her go, already mulling over his next question, which came out in a rush before he could stop it. “Mom, can you teach me more about alchemy? I want to help.”

  “I'm sure you do, sweetie, but with your fevers I don’t think you can handle mana.”

  David sighed. Too weak to help dad, too fragile to learn from mom. He’d known she would say exactly that, but with the Long Night a day away, he felt even more restless than usual. It was nothing new, and yet, he couldn’t help but feel useless.

  He watched Mom sort through the herbs and felt watched again himself, that prickling sensation between his shoulder blades. He scanned the edge of the forest but saw nothing except the hills and trees. “Is that because of what happened to Lillie? Maybe if I knew more, we could have saved her.”

  She glared at him. “Even alchemy has limits. It wasn't your fault, David. Nor was it mine. Stop blaming yourself.”

  “Sorry.” He felt guilty for annoying her when everyone was already tense about the Long Night.

  She brushed his cheek. “I know it must be hard for you, sweetie. One day you’ll be healthier and everything will work out.”

  Would it really? Ever since the fevers and nightmares started, he found himself inadequate. It only got worse after whatever the hell happened after Lillie died. Mom’s reassurance rang hollow like never before.

  He squeezed her hand softly, then left her behind and entered home. He glanced at Mom’s supplies on the shelf. The light from the door caught a jar of healing ointment among the brass instruments.

  The ointment was the most common of mom’s products, but one that he was never supposed to mess around with. There was even a weird prickling sensation every time he did come in contact with it, though.

  As far as he knew, all that stood between him and learning magic was his lack of ability to sense mana… so maybe he could figure it out on his own? Play around with the ointment and learn the basics without his mom knowing, then she’d surely see that he can manage it and teach him more. If he was careful, what was the worst that could happen?