My brain itched. I’d spent all night awake as we planned and sched, offering everything I knew about the Divine Cultivator threat. Captain Ban had wrung dry for anything he could use, and that had got worked up to no end. I had been very lucky that nothing had bothered on the walk over here. Bard or not, if so Noble Squire had asked for a duel, I’d have taken him up on the offer. Thankfully, I’d had Lancelot with , which had warded off any attention.
Lancelot had been read in on the issue and then spent the rest of the night helping Elaine call on dreams to answer so questions. The eerie way they whistled in unison had not helped focus. However, it helped us understand the problem imnsely and inford our roles for the day.
I was executing stage one of my role in the plan: visiting Miss Peaches and reading her in on the threat and our plans. Elaine would be eting her afterwards to provide further details, using the eting they’d agreed on yesterday as cover. Ban had been very clear that he didn’t want any of us doing anything that might imply we knew sothing was wrong.
“Thrice-cursed cultists, and right under my nose too. Must you continue to rack up my debts to you? Can’t let those monsters near my girls!”
“This debt is at least easy to settle. Any help in defeating them would be much appreciated.”
“I cannot wipe debt like that. It’d be like asking you to wipe a debt by singing—you’ll do it anyway, so it is not of comnsurate value.” She pulled out a book from her desk and began leafing through it. “What does that rust bucket have to say for himself? To let his brother fall so far?”
“He’s going to handle the brother but would appreciate any support you might offer.”
Captain Ban took the rise of this corruption under his nose personally. He’d left early in the morning to quietly marshal his troops. He’d arranged for a ‘fugitive’ to break out of the gaol so he and so of his Knights could disappear to ‘chase them down.’ The reality was that he was in a hidden location, busy breaking through to Steel, a process I was surprised to learn he’d been putting off. Lance had let know that both her mother and father could’ve broken through, but, due to the politics of Fosburg, they had been waiting until the patriarch returned. They feared the brothers would take poorly to finding a new power couple to contend with.
“And you?”
“I’ll be escorting Lancelot to see Sir Bors, and, if you’re willing to work with our deception, will be delivering sothing to the Noble Knight on Miss Peaches’ behalf. A delivery for you will give us an excuse to be clear of the town.”
That had caused a flaming row. Lance had taken poorly to being sent away. I’d been excused for a while, and eventually, a tearful Lance had co to to explain she’d agreed to co with .
She wanted to stay close, but spare Iron-level cultivators we could trust to guard her were thin on the ground. Those allied to the Captain would be needed for the fight. What no one said was that if things went wrong, having her far from town would at least an they’d saved her.
“Sensible. If I was protecting her directly, she’d be in my debt, and the girl has enough potential to tempt to see she doesn’t work her way free of it.” She looked over to Lancelot, who was exiled to one of the empty alchemy rooms, currently checking her gear—blessedly unaware of the monster sizing her up. I didn’t shiver. I’d heard far worse, but it was a reminder that, as much as I liked the older witch, she was still a powerful cultivator with her own goals.
“Not that I’m against purging such filth, but why is this so urgent?”
“It seems Roland believes his father, the Lord, is dead. Apparently, he always sends so kind of ssage or manifestation of power at the festival. Ban, while confident that his adopted father lives, feels worried that the festival will be a starting whistle for whatever they’re planning. If there’s no sign from the Bear, then Roland acts. If there is a sign of the Lord, there’s a chance the Divine Cultivators do a ton of damage as they flee.”
“Dang fool, betting against the Bear of Fos. The young’un may be many things, but easy to kill ain’t one of them,” Miss Peaches said, casually referring to a several-century-old cultivator who was questing to rise to Mithril as she might to a teenager. Then she sighed and made a couple of notes. “I’ll spare so ti to get this cleaned up. Can’t have rats like these running around near my girls. Now, I believe you’re here for a demonstration, and my little witches are waiting. They can then put together your delivery as well.”
She seed totally unbothered, like I’d told her about a minor disruption and a delay in her deliveries. I couldn’t help it. “Miss Nimue, the Divine Cultivators are no joke.”
“I’d expect a Bard to know that jokes are all about your audience, and I, little Taliesin, who bears the gifts of the Lady of the Lake, who reeks of death, and who clearly has fooled those demons masquerading as gods—I can laugh at most anything.”
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The edge of her evil eye whipped , reminding of my station and the fact she had my full asure. She knew the threat and found it wanting.
To illustrate her point, the Steel-ranked witch left the room cackling. As she left, a forgotten mory thawed and dripped knowledge down my spine. Alexis had told witches who left their coven would often give up knowledge, lowering their level of cultivation. She’d also told her mistress was in that category. I shuddered. What manner of ancient monster had I stumbled across now?
“Co, boy, just your shirt off this ti.” She called up the stairs.
“Yes, Miss Peaches.”
I could almost hear the laughter of the Lady in my ears, feel those eyes bearing down on . Of course, she had more planned for .
Lancelot was saying a tearful farewell to her mother just inside ‘The Cottage.’ I distracted myself from the scene by focusing on the collection of items Alexis and Elsa were laying out for and Bors. Alexis had recognised that I had a spatial ring and was loading down with what seed like an entire cupboard full of ingredients, plus a collection of alchemy essentials. I could also see so cultivation brews for Bors and a collection of healing brews for us all.
“This is very generous, Miss Peaches.”
I looked it over. The collected items weren’t a sign of incredible wealth, but they’d been carefully chosen and arranged. It wasn’t just ingredients—she was sharing a whole system of how she perford alchemy, including a couple of books.
“Pah. This is just clearing out the back room. I have sothing for you and sothing for Bors.” She summoned over to her side.
“This is a book with so guidance on your gift. An illuminated text with a cultivation thod and technique that I think will suit you and make us even for the help you’ve brought .”
She passed it to discreetly, but I got a look at the title before I slipped it into my storage ring.
“Miss Peaches, I can’t help but notice the title is ‘Lesser Death Curses.’ I must say I am touched you trust so much.”
Witches didn’t share much about their curse techniques. I was shocked to think I was worthy of such a gift—and such trust.
“Don’t get a big head, child. They are lesser curses, after all. This piece is for that Bors boy.” She pulled out a pendant, a short tal tube with a small window of glass through which I could see sothing that looked like a finger bone.
“This is a Reliquary, a bone from a powerful earth-gifted fae… beast, I defeated long ago.” She grinned as I caught the pause and nearly dropped the Reliquary. “If he cultivates while wearing this, it should accelerate his growth a little bit until he hits Steel.”
That was a treasure worthy of a petty king’s ransom. Even as a Harkley, I’d rarely seen a Reliquary that lasted beyond Bronze. It slt of wet earth and clay, and just being near it made feel more grounded and settled.
That Miss Peaches valued her girls so much cald my chaotic mind. As rattled as I was to be standing beside the possibly Mithril-ranked cultivator, knowing she valued her people’s safety reminded that she wasn’t anything like the Harkley Patriarch. There was so kind of balance among the high-ranking cultivators of this world.
“I will keep it safe and deliver it.”
“Good. I shall send Alexis to escort you two to the gate. She’ll give you so parcels there that should make it clear you’re running errands for . I also have so potions I’ve made that work particularly well to help you use your Levity techniques, so you should be able to get clear quickly.”
“That’d be good. Then we can see him before the day is out.”
“Also, it’ll get that golden-haired minx away from my girls quickly.”
Miss Peaches’ eyes narrowed as Lance started to help Elsa pack so things. The apprentice witch was already blushing.
“Not worried about Alexis?” I chuckled as we moved to safer topics.
“She’s not tall enough for Alexis. Besides, she’s still hung up on the ‘Titan,’ and will be for so ti, I imagine,” she said with a grin.
I didn’t know how well Bors would handle knowing an Elder Witch was paying attention to his love life.
“Now do co and visit again. I’ll be mightily frustrated if all this fussing about ends with you dead by the roadside.”
“Please, if I’m dying, it’ll be in bed. Ideally, soone else’s.”
I heard the old woman chuckle. At least part of my day was going right.
“And give Bors my best, will you? Let him know he is welco to say hello anyti. He’d better not leave that bridge and not at least co say goodbye! Miss Peaches did say she wanted to et him soti.” Alexis grinned, seemingly unaware she’d just said sothing that would make most cultivators run for the hills.
“It’s been a pleasure, Alexis, and I wish I could stay longer. But my mother told never to keep a witch waiting.”
The words spilled out of . My truth magic surprised there. Not the common phrase—which was frankly good advice for any cultivator—but in that I was certain I did rember my mother telling that. A rarity for , as those mories were clouded by ti.
“You too, Taliesin. I expect a visit.” She smiled and passed the items to casually. Alexis was a smart woman and could tell there was more to this than just a simple delivery run, but she played the role of an apprentice seeing off her mistress’s couriers well.
Lance was already ahead, negotiating our passage. The guards on duty seed upset on her behalf that she was being sent out so close to Founders Day, but when she ntioned ‘The Lady in Peach,’ they all nodded. I followed and was given a piece of paper that outlined I’d be welcod back in the future should I return.
My heart fluttered at the offer. The idea that I’d be welco back made the stakes of the coming battle within those walls all the higher in my mind.
“Right, let’s get going. If we run the whole way with those potions, we should be there before midnight.”
What had taken four days of slow plodding with the caravan was going to be eaten up in barely any ti at all.
I took the Swiftness Brew. The flavour was face-puckeringly sour, but it worked a treat. We began to peel away from the town, Lance setting a fast pace that surprised .
“Shouldn’t we pace ourselves?” I caught up to her as she pounded down the empty road, quickly blowing past the rough, ramshackle buildings that sat just beyond the wall.
“We were being followed in town, and the guards told that Barclay was just seen entering Stonetown with a few of his lackeys.”
Her voice was sharp, and her eyes constantly swept the woods.
“Fast it is then.” I grunted, getting into my stride.
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