Outside on the street, Tammer paused, staring at the ground and looking pensive. I had shifted into a bird and sat on the thatch of a nearby shop, mulling over the conversation I had just overheard. Did it surprise me that Tammer was frustrated with his job and all that it cost? Absolutely not. I’d feel the same way. But I was shocked at the offer the priest gave him. And even more surprised that Tammer seemed to be thinking it over.

  I couldn’t have that. He was at a pivot point, and though I didn’t quite know why exactly, he had a role in my plan that didn’t involve him becoming a choir boy.

  I flew to a nearby alley and shifted again.

  I rounded the corner, the morning wind tugging at my wild mane of curls. I looked up the street, and Tammer hadn’t moved. Passersby parted around him, shooting irritated glares at him for standing around and blocking traffic. “Captain!” I called, trotting up to him.

  It jarred him out of his reverie. He frowned, but after a few breaths seemed to recognize me. “Miss Issa,” he said, confused. “What are you doing here?”

  “The games are only a few days away,” I said, smiling. “I need to get a lay of the land, scout my competition.” I gave him a small nod; he was my competition, after all.

  “Oh. Right.” He still looked out of sorts, poor thing. “Well, good luck with that.” He turned away, heading back towards the castle.

  “Wanna grab a drink?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Come on,” I said, taking a step after him. “You’re the closest thing I have to a friend in this town. Come get a drink with me. We can chat about the games.”

  Tammer looked at me like I’d grown a second head. I checked to make sure I hadn’t. “Well.” He was struggling with what he wanted to say (“Hell no”) and his farm-raised need to be a good host. I pushed a little bit more.

  “What’s a good place to get a pint? Obviously you know better than I do, and I’m parched.”

  That’d done it. “The Rooster’s Crow has fair pricing,” he said, pointing the opposite direction of the castle and starting to walk, a pained look on his face. “Some days they have fruit pies.”

  “Sounds great! I love fruit pies.”

  The tavern was well maintained, clean, and lively for the middle of the afternoon. The building was made of light wood that had been polished smooth with years of patrons and a hoppy scent clung to the air from decades of spilled drinks. People from many different walks of life clustered at the tables - merchants, tradesmen, off-duty soldiers, grisled beggars, and farmers who stopped for a cup before they left town. They all stared at us as we walked in. I was used to it, given my tattoos and my general offputting aura, but Tammer looked uneasy. Eventually the patrons went back to their conversations. All of them were talking about one thing - the games.

  The king had done a good job of keeping the Linford incident quiet.

  Tammer caught the eye of the bartender and motioned for two pints then found an empty booth. I slid in across from him, facing the door. Looking around, it appeared that they did not have fruit pies that day, which was a shame.

  Tammer sat ramrod straight, eyeing me suspiciously, still bemused at how he ended up here. His beard made his expression difficult to read. I leaned forward on my elbows.

  “This place looks nice. Probably above my coin,” I said, looking around. I still hadn’t given up hope for the fruit pies.

  “It’s quite affordable,” he said, drumming the table. He offered nothing further, jaw set and eyes bright. They were bloodshot, I noted, and dark circles were visible even through his swarthy complexion.

  “How’ve you been?” I asked, adopting a more serious tone. “I saw the aftermath at Linford. It wasn’t pretty. And I heard about your man.”

  Tammer glowered at me, but said nothing.

  “I’m sorry for that,” I said, lowering my gaze.

  Tammer took a healthy swig from the pint of ale that had just been delivered. I nodded my head in thanks to the bar hop and took a sip as well. It was very good; slightly sweet, but with a bit of a bite.

  “Thank you,” Tammer said finally, wiping the frothy head from his mustache. “Gentren was a good man.”

  I raised my glass. “To Gentren.” He said nothing. I rolled my eyes and shoved my hair back from my face. “Look, Tammer, judging by your face, you need a drink and someone to talk to. Someone who doesn’t care about whatever politics are circling around this town. Someone who, like you,” I tipped my pint in his direction, “needs a fucking drink.”

  Tammer managed half a smile and shook his head. “To Gentren,” and he clinked his glass on mine. I took another sip, but he had already pounded back half his glass.

  “You make a habit of this?” I asked. He didn’t bother wiping his face this time.

  “I don’t usually,” he said, signalling for another. I imagined that his first would be gone by the time the second got there. “Rarely, as a matter of fact. But to be honest, I’ve had one hell of a week.” As I expected, he chugged the last of his first glass.

  “Well, I guess your friend passing on will do that to you.” I took a bigger gulp of my glass. I couldn’t get drunk, but he didn’t need to know that.

  “Wasn’t just Gentren,” he said, pushing his empty glass to the edge of the table. He let his shoulders droop, deciding to let go of any wariness he had of me. I guess he really wanted someone to talk to. “That same day I found out that the woman I thought was my great love decided to marry someone else.”

  “That’s rough,” I said, wincing. “What could she possibly see in some other guy? You’d make a great husband!”

  “Well, I don’t know,” he said, accepting his second glass. He took this one much slower. I expected him to press on, but he didn’t. Clearly he was more suspicious of me than I thought. Better not press too hard too fast.

  “I’m sure you’d be great,” I pressed. “Besides, you’re supposed to sweep the games! What kind of woman wouldn’t pounce on that display of strength and skill?” The games were safer territory.

  “I’m not going to sweep,” he said, taking a tentative sip. “I’m not too strong in archery, and I’ve never so much as held a lance in my life. I’m only entering hand-to-hand. Swordsmanship and grappling.”

  “I saw that as a category,” I said, draining my glass. I snapped my fingers for another. “I’m staying away from that one. I’m scrappy, but that’s where all the big boys and girls are going, and I’d rather walk out of Darluth than crawl.”

  “You’d be surprised,” he said. “There are a lot of scrappers in hand-to-hand. They get pretty far sometimes.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “How many times have you seen someone my size win hand-to-hand?”

  “Of all the games I’ve seen? None.”

  “Exactly,” I said, accepting my second pint. “No thanks.”

  “Alright, so what is your category?” Tammer asked. He was leaning forward just a bit more, and I could see there was a subtle flush darkening his already dark complexion.

  “Archery!” I said, pretending to pull a bowstring. “I’m pretty confident I’ll do well there. I have been an archer for years.” A couple dozen centuries, but still accurate.

  “Well, good luck to you,” he said, finally noticing the foamy head that was stuck to his mouth. “If you win, the king will grant you a boon.”

  “I thought that was for winning the swordsmanship tournament,” I said. No one had mentioned the king granting multiple boons.

  “He grants one to the winner of each category.” Tammer held up his hand and started counting off his fingers. “You have archery, horsemanship, strength, cross country, and hand-to-hand. In the final category, whoever has the best score combination between swordsmanship and grappling gets the prize.”

  “That’s a lot of boons to give out,” I said. “I didn’t realize the king was so generous.”

  “Most of the people who enter the games are simple people, Miss Issa.”

  “Abel, please.”

  “Abel, most of the people who win only ask for trivial things - well, trivial to a king, anyway. Money, land, sometimes pardons. The most exciting I’ve seen was a couple years ago when a man requested an annulment of his marriage.”

  “Seriously?”

  Tammer nodded, laughing to himself. “I had to ask around to get the finer details. The man

  his wife, but if he divorced her then she would get half of everything. So he spent a couple years training cross country, came into the games, beat the lot of them. It was within the king’s power to grant, so he did, and he didn’t have to give his former wife anything, and his children with her were declared illegitimate. Ruined their futures, but he never really cared for them since he thought they took after their mother. She was destitute, but he was free.”

  I made a face. “That’s rather horrible.”

  Tammer shrugged. “The aftermath wasn’t pretty, but in the moment it was hilarious.”

  “Hmm.” I took another swig of my glass.

  “You know, I carved things for her.”

  “Your girl?”

  “Little statues of animals,” he said, staring at the bottom of his glass. “Once a flower. She loved them, told me she had them lined up on a shelf on her wall.”

  I took another sip. “She doesn’t deserve you, Tammer.”

  He grunted but didn’t respond. After another swig, he changed the subject.

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  “If you win the games, what will you ask for?”

  “Me?” I chewed on my inner cheek, pretending to think it over. “I’d like to...well, it’s a bit embarrassing.”

  “I won’t laugh.”

  “Well...” I gave him a shy smile and forced my cheeks to redden a bit. “I’d ask to join the rangers.” Tammer barked out a laugh that he quickly turned into a cough. “You said you wouldn’t laugh!”

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” he said, still snorting. “It’s just that...I don’t think anyone has ever been taken into the rangers from the games.”

  “Has anyone asked?”

  “Well, no,” Tammer said, taking another sip, “but that’s because everyone knows that no one just... to be on the rangers. Rangers are ”

  “Meaning?”

  Tammer eyed me over the rim of his glass, a bit of his suspicion returning. “Are you sure you’re Alfreyadan?”

  “I haven’t heard much about rangers,” I said, truthfully. “And I’ve been travelling in other countries for a while.” It was technically the truth, and technical truths are where I shine. Fyra was the creative one, not me. I can’t craft anything at all, including the tangled webs of lies. But technicalities? Technicalities only required you to be clever, and I was clever.

  “That’s illegal,” he said, aghast.

  Oops.

  “I get wanderlust,” I said, scratching the back of my neck. “Just...don’t tell anyone? What happens at the Rooster, stays at the Rooster, yeah?”

  Tammer was satisfied, or too buzzed to really care. Either way he decided not to add that to his list of problems.“No one really knows how rangers are chosen, only that somehow we have rangers,” he said. “Most would believe that the rangers were a myth if they weren’t ordered to do some public good every so often; they’re hardly ever seen.”

  “How do they get their orders and assignments then?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t have answers; I’m not a ranger, remember?”

  “Well, regardless, that’s what I want if I win,” I said, draining my second glass. Tammer matched me. “It’s definitely within the king’s ability, and it’d look pretty bad if he were to deny me.”

  “Why do you want to be a ranger anyway?”

  I shrugged and looked away. I would need to really sell this part if I were to convince Tammer to not choose to become a disciple. “I don’t know,” I said, letting a self-conscious smile pull at the corner of my mouth. “A new kind of adventure, I suppose. I’ve done quite a bit of traveling, like I said, but I don’t think I’ve really done anything lately that , you know? I’ve done things I’m not proud of and things that I never thought I’d get to do. But after seeing what happened at Linford…” I shook my head and reached across and took a sip of Tammer’s glass, ignoring his protestations. It was a pause that needed some ale, but I’d already finished mine.

  “It wasn’t a quiet thing. Linford’s on lockdown now - no one in or out. I was lucky enough that I got out before they set up the blockade. Trade is done under the eyes of the city watch to make sure no one talks. And people are angry for that. It feels like the king isn’t interested in helping them.” I’d heard all of this through the grapevine; Tammer had to sleep, after all, and Linford wasn’t that far away for me if I wasn’t tailing someone.

  “The king is waiting until the games are over before issuing a statement,” Tammer said. His tone switched to the professional cadence that years of being a loyal captain had ingrained in him. I smirked.

  “Alright, sure,” I said, “but he hasn’t told Linford. And there are rumors going around about what exactly happened. If it had just been the flame falling, that could have been passed as an accident, but a whole street full of people saw a dead man with an arrow in his chest. People are . They don’t know if it’s bandits, an assassin that failed to get the princess, or something worse. People think that it was a hoax and maybe the king’s behind it, others say that it might be the Abyss.”

  Tammer’s face darkened, but he wasn’t so far in his drinks that he would openly spill the truth. Not that it particularly mattered for my purposes anyway; I already knew the truth. “To be honest, I’m scared too,” I said, finishing Tammer’s ale for him. He didn’t stop me. I put a slight slur to my words. “But, I have some skills that could do something about it. And people are saying that the rangers are the ones that would go out and fight that thing, so I want to help.”

  I looked up at him when I was done and blushed before looking away. “If I win,” I said. “I probably won’t, but who knows?”

  Tammer eyed me with a strange look in his eye, somewhere between awe and pity. “I wish you the best of luck,” he said at last. “And I hope the king grants your request.”

  “What about you?” I asked, putting my glass next to the other at the edge of the table. Neither of us requested another round. “What do you want?”

  Tammer studied me hard, but didn’t answer. “Come on,” I said, leaning back and spreading my hands. “I was honest with you, and you even laughed at me.”

  “So I should set myself up, too?”

  I rolled my eyes and snapped for two more beers before glaring at Tammer. I wouldn’t get anywhere trying to argue fairness in sharing. He didn’t know me; why should he tell me anything? But the captain was a man of honor, and I could hit him where it counts.

  “I get it,” I said, leaning back and accepting my beer. I took a gulp and folded my arms. “You want leverage in the games.”

  “What?”

  I shrugged. “Look at me, silly Abel, spilling her guts to her competition.”

  “We’re not even in the same category.”

  “For now,” I snapped. “How do I know you won’t change your mind? And now you’ve got leverage.”

  “How is this leverage?”

  “You’re kidding, right?” I demanded, wroth with indignation. “I admit to you my crazy hope that I’ll get to be on the rangers, and you spread that rumor around? You already laughed at me for it, and everyone else will, too. I don’t have a lot of dreams, Captain, because at the end of the day, dreams don’t keep you breathing or your belly full, but I also don’t have a lot of friends. I was trying to reach out, you know? Broaden my horizons, and I don’t know, I just thought that you and I were similar and that you’d understand. But you just want to screw me over.”

  I kept my voice sloppy, letting my rant come across as a drunken outburst. I took another sip and wiped my mouth on my sleeve. Tammer tilted his head and frowned at me. “I’m sorry,” he said. “It wasn’t my intention to offend you.”

  “Yeah, well, good fucking job,” I spat, taking another deep draw on my ale.

  Tammer swirled his pint in thought, some of the ale slopping over the side. “I have no interest in screwing you over,” he said. He wouldn’t meet my eyes. “It’s just...everything I told you was true. People just don’t ask to become a ranger. But I can’t say that the thought hasn’t crossed my mind.”

  I didn’t respond, instead leaning back and chewing on my cheek, my silence asking him to go on. He sighed before taking another drink. “Things have been...not great.”

  “You’ve mentioned,” I said curtly.

  “When I was a boy, I thought being a Kingsguard was going to get me on that ladder to herodom,” he said, gesturing skyward. He let his hand fall with a thump. “But that ideal has since been...shattered.”

  I nodded slightly, taking another sip. “Peace doesn’t leave much room for heroes.”

  “Correct.” Tammer shook his head. Perhaps it was his conversation with the priest that had eased some of the fire he had before, or maybe the ale was putting him in slightly better spirits. “I took an oath to serve the king and the royal family to the best of my ability, no matter the cost. I just never thought that those costs would come due during my lifetime.”

  “The assassin, you mean.”

  Tammer thought that over. “Yes, I suppose I do,” he said, finally. “I meant Gentren and Kata, but I suppose those are the selfish concerns bred of a much bigger problem.”

  “Kata?”

  Tammer winced; he’d opened the door to a subject he really didn’t want to talk about. “My betrothed,” he said. “Well, not anymore.”

  “Ah. I don’t see that one as the Abyss’s fault, though,” I said, perhaps feeling a touch defensive. “Unless the Abyss corrupted her? Because if that’s the case, you’re better off, mate. No need tarnishing your soul with blackness.” I worked really hard to keep the sarcasm out of my voice.

  “It wasn’t the Abyss,” Tammer said, shooting me a look. “I just took too long.”

  I leaned in closer. The pub was even more full as the working day drew to a close, the merchants and traders of Darluth looking to spend some of their day’s coin on the Rooster’s delicious ale. I could easily hear over the hubbub, but I took my queues from those around me. “How long were you away from…”

  “Castoon,” Tammer supplied. “Six years.”

  I let out a long whistle. “Six whole years? How often you been home?”

  “Not a once.”

  “Gods,” I said, taking another drink.

  “Yeah,” he said, joining me and taking a couple gulps. “As much as it hurts, I...understand. I don’t think either of us would even be the same people we were when we were sixteen. Still, I can’t help but think that if I didn’t have my oath, if the king didn’t work us so hard and pay us so little, she could have been here and we’d be married and we’d have children by now. All but a handful of the Kingsguard are from the Near End, so it’s easier for them to have families and husbands and wives, but...not for me.”

  “So that’s why you want to leave? I don’t know if joining the rangers would provide those opportunities either.”

  “I have no designs on anyone else at the moment and I don’t know when I will or if I ever will,” he said, finishing his pint. That made two and a half for him. “That’s not the point anymore. I feel...cheated. And the idea of continuing to give near-complete control over my life to the ones that cheated me grates on me. That would have been so if only Kata had left me, but Gentren died. And Gentren was killed by the Abyss.” Tammer spat on the floor. Gross, but no one else seemed to mind.

  “So that...thing...in Linford...that was definitely the Abyss?” I asked, keeping my voice level and calm, but adding just enough edge to sound shocked and afraid.

  Tammer’s eyes widened. He forgot that no one was supposed to know that yet. The cat was out now, though, so he just sighed and said, “Yes. Tell no one, but yes.”

  I paused the appropriate length of time it would take a stalwart human to process and forge ahead with optimism. “So you’ll just go after it,” I said, shrugging. I took another sip of my ale and added more flush to my cheeks. “Problem solved. The king will send you guards after it and given your reputation, you’ll drive it off in no time. Or make it pay and kill it.” I added a flailing swing to demonstrate chopping off its head.

  Tammer rolled his eyes. “The Kingsguard will not be going after it.”

  “What? Why not?”

  He laughed again. “We’re the ” he said. “We guard the king. The king himself nor anyone else in the royal family will be going after the bastard, so we will stay put right beside him.”

  “But,” I said, confused, “who is going to go after it? Someone has to.”

  “The rangers will,” he said. His fingers drummed on his glass. “They’ve already been ordered to start hunting.”

  “Oh gods,” I said again, running a hand through my hair.

  “So not only was my friend killed,” he said, scowling at his drink like it had just insulted his mother, “but we don’t even get to be the ones to get revenge on it. We just have to sit by while someone else does the reaping.”

  I tilted my head, confused. “So just win the games,” I said. “Win, and ask to join the rangers, too.”

  “I’ve already told you, no one just to join the rangers.”

  “So what, you’re just going to sit back and let this go on?” I demanded.

  “No!” he cried. “Maybe. I don’t know.” He took another drink and rubbed a hand over his face. “There is another option.”

  “What’s that? Go home? Follow the longstanding family tradition of being a tanner?”

  “Farmer.”

  “Whatever.”

  “And no, not that,” he said, irritated. “There are…” he blew out his cheeks. “There are discipleship positions at the Eternal Hearth.”

  I was taking a drink when he said that, and I genuinely snorted. Beer sloshed over the edge of the glass and slopped down my front. “” I said, drying my face. “You? A choir boy?”

  Tammer looked hurt. “You didn’t like it when I laughed at you,” he said.

  “Right, but what I said was something I really wanted to do,” I said, chuckling. “There’s no way you want to be a .”

  “How do you know? You don’t even know me.”

  “Captain, I’ve got a pretty good idea about who you are based on this conversation alone,” I said, and that was true. For all I’d been watching him, this was the most information I’d gathered. “If you were really all about peace and meditation and praying, you wouldn’t be so livid about not getting your own chance to even the score. You would have spent the day praying for Gentren’s soul and seek strength and healing from the One Fire. But instead, you’re in a pub with me and we’re talking about how you’ve been cheated and abused.”

  I leaned forward. “,” I said, jabbing the table with a finger. “Win the games. Ask to become a ranger. So what if no one has before? Heroes get where they’re going by doing things no one has before, right? That’s what happens in all the stories. And when you’re a ranger, that’s going to be the greatest way you can serve the king and the royal family to the best of your ability.” I picked up my glass and finished off the last of my ale. Tammer studied me quietly.

  I cracked a huge smile. “No matter the cost.”