Mim Wobblegander, the gnomish jewelcrafter of Silverstep Village, was a pleasure to deal with. Not that Guelder was particularly into jewels, apart from a few magical pieces she was finding useful, but one could never know when one needed an artisan skilled with precious metals and stones – like she did now. Still, the girl's perfectionism was a tiny bit exhausting.

  "Listen, Mim," sighed the baroness, resting her hands on the jewelcrafter's workbench. "I cannot give you the exact dimensions of a human eyeball, least of all of this particular one. You know, it all happened so quickly, and the last thing I had in my mind was to take its measurements before it was gone. I reckon it must be about an inch in diameter, give or take."

  The gnome shrugged, her bright green ponytail bouncing about.

  "Sounds doable, Your Grace," she said. "Finally, a challenging task! This is why I left Restov for this –"

  "Backwater?" snapped the baroness, narrowing her eyes.

  "Mim, the expression you are looking for is quaint little barony, blessed with the beauties and dangers of undisturbed nature," offered Hazel helpfully. Guelder could tell from their voice they were grinning.

  "Yeah, that!" exclaimed Mim, full of enthusiasm. "I love this place. Rugged mountains, a lake sparkling in the sun, and totally crazy work commissions! Fake eyeballs out of cyclopean marble? Count me in! Do I need to be careful about traces of silver?"

  The baroness looked up from the box displaying an assortment of precious and semi-precious stone samples, barely suppressing a smile. It felt surprisingly good for her dark side to be seen and cared for. Of course, it was probably thanks to Ivar the hunter, the resident werewolf of Silverstep Village and a key figure in the community until recently, that this place was unusually aware and accepting of werecreatures, but it made Guelder happy nonetheless. (And it also made her wonder if there were a few more afflicted among the villagers.)

  "No, Mim, it will be for a smoothskin friend. I commend your thoughtful approach... I think a tiger's eye inlay would do nicely for the iris. It is nearly the same shade as the original was. And perhaps fulgurite for the pupil. Also, I want you to put an enchantment on it to enhance the user's perception skill to some extent. It would be so nice if it could actually give back a fracture of the lost functionality as well, besides being more pleasant to look at than a manky eyepatch."

  "And once again, just to be sure. You want a full three-dimensional orb, not just a veneer at the front to hide the hole, right? Is there any reason for that?"

  "Definitely. I want to keep the eyeball's place open. I will be looking into options to regenerate it, and I need his body to remember what is supposed to be there, and also to preserve the space for the new eye to grow in."

  A stealthy glance at the mirror behind the counter showed Hazel raising a puzzled eyebrow. Guelder flashed a self-assured smile that was, by the way, completely unwarranted. She had yet to master that ritual. In order to make it work, she would need to dedicate a considerable part of her free time to studying amphibians and going through Bartholomew Delgado's research notes about his experiments on the wretched lab troll Guelder had taken from him and set free, before seizing his paperwork and banishing him from Nightvale. And maybe, just maybe, she could have Jaethal track him down. As she'd learnt the hard way since, banishment was just kicking the empty potion vial down the road. The wizard was still out there somewhere, experimenting on another unlucky troll – which meant a skilled agent could find him, steal his latest research notes, and as a bonus, get the world rid of him permanently. There were too many loose threads in Guelder's life to leave another one dangling free.

  Having discussed all the details and the deadline with the jewelcrafter, Guelder left the shop and headed out to the lakeside with Hazel. The air was refreshingly cool, and the grey-blue water surface rippled and sparkled in the rays of the morning sun. The fishermen were already up, preparing their nets or rowing out, so a swim was out of the question. Instead, Guelder sought out a quiet little bay, its coastline peppered with rocks of various size, with a lovely view on the mountains across the lake. She settled down on a boulder, removing her boots and socks, submerging her feet in the cool water. She patted the rock beside her, inviting Hazel to join. The ranger sat down by her side, comfortably close, and rested their booted feet on another rock, ready for anything, like always. Pangur loped off to try and catch some fish himself.

  She hadn't had the luxury of just sitting and enjoying the mild sunshine in what seemed like ages.

  Everything was new, raw, unusual, and it would take time for a new order to establish itself, but for the time being, the matters in the east seemed sorted in a more or less satisfactory manner. Still, Guelder had to tread carefully, as there probably were others who felt like the Lord Regent had. Baron Varn was about to move to Tuskdale in two weeks, leaving his land in the hands of a governor of his own choice until Guelder would arrange for a permanent solution. The garrison in Varnhold Town was temporarily at Darlac's disposal until she cleansed the area from wayward barbarians. As to the late Cephal Lorentus, the baron had taken it upon himself to announce his death to the citizens and the Host, and Guelder was happy to stay out of that. He knew best how to handle his men and how to protect Darlac from the consequences of her selfless intervention.

  Alas, it was far from guaranteed that Darlac would stick around and join Guelder's team. The young paladin was doing her best and more to keep her stuff together, but the baroness could see the cracks in her thin mask of sanity and self-control. The Vanishing and its aftermath had taken its toll on her, too, so much that even her relationship with Maegar seemed to be in danger. There was a chance she would decide to leave the Stolen Lands and the tribulations of the past behind, and run off to Lastwall or Mendev to chase her dreams or nightmares. If she did, Guelder couldn't blame her, however badly she wished to make her stay.

  There was so much to do, so many wounds to heal, but the matters of Nightvale couldn't be left unattended any longer, either. Adventuring with government officials was a practice Guelder would have to revise in the future. Not to mention that the state was now short of a Councillor of Welfare.

  Hazel's chuckle brought her back into the moment.

  "Guel, I have just realised something. Did you call Baron Varn a smoothskin? Seriously?"

  "Stop gatekeeping, Hazel," she quipped. "Non-lycanthropes qualify as smoothskins even if they have significantly more facial or body hair than you do. By the way, do you think I should order a pair of prosthetics for Tristian as well? Maybe later, right? At the moment, I do not even know to what extent his eyes have been damaged."

  "His eyes are likely the least of his problems right now," said Hazel. "Just as he deserves."

  Guelder let out a despondent sigh. There they went again, condemning Tristian for his duplicitous game, instead of appreciating that he'd finally made up his mind and done the right thing.

  "Do not start this again, Hazel. Please. Let us agree to disagree."

  "Sorry, Guel. I have no patience for traitors, regardless if they are angels or demons or fluffy bunny rabbits in disguise. Especially not if they pose a danger to your life. I feel ashamed that I did not act earlier, at the first sign that something was off with him. I thought I needed undisputable proof to convince you, and that slippery little vermin did not make my job easy."

  "We cannot change the past, friend. We cannot bring back those killed in the Bloom. But one thing is certain. I must not leave Tristian to his fate, now that he rebelled against Nyrissa and defeated Vordakai for us. I intend to rescue him from her clutches, whatever it takes. If I only knew where to start..."

  Hazel removed their hood and ran their fingers through their unbraided black hair. They leant back, enjoying the sun on their face.

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  "And what if this is a very elaborate trap?" they mused. "I mean, Tristian could have simply stayed with us after destroying the artifact. You would have protected him as best you could. Why did he return to Nyrissa, if not to lure you into her trap? She knows you would never leave him to his fate, and she will not hesitate to use your kind heart against you."

  Guelder lowered her head. She was convinced Tristian had fled to Nyrissa because she'd given him the cold shoulder at the Varnling outpost. They'd never talked through his unadmitted but palpable feelings for her, or her discomfort about those. Another failure, a personal one, that could potentially cost a friend's life.

  "I do not care. I am in his debt. We all are. Without him, Varnhold would still be a ghostland in the death grip of a lich, and Nightvale's ruler and half its government would be Vordakai's puppets. Freeing him is the least I can do."

  Hazel shook their head in mock disapproval.

  "There is never time for us to catch a breather, is there?"

  "Once we die, we shall rest to our hearts' content. Unless Jaethal wants something."

  Hazel didn't seem to appreciate Guelder's dark humour. They pulled her into a tight embrace.

  "You will not die, Guel," they whispered into her hair. "Not on my watch."

  She hugged them back. This lovely morning made her a little more susceptible to their display of affection.

  "Rest assured, my short-term plans do not include dying. I hope yours do not, either. So no, there is no rest for us. We return to Tuskdale, catch up on the most important state affairs, then head out to track down Tristian. I shall not abandon him. Not when he has finally found his backbone."

  "As you wish, Guel. Wherever you go, I will follow."

  Guelder relaxed, truly, the first time since she'd set out to Varnhold. She closed her eyes, staring into the sun through her eyelids, listening to the warblers in the reed and the waves lapping the shore, leaning against Hazel. The team had the entire morning free, then, following a light lunch at the inn, they would set out homebound – and the adventures would continue with a hunt for Tristian, and perhaps also for Nyrissa. Was the time for the final showdown approaching? If so, that was one more reason to appreciate these stolen moments of bliss...

  ...shattered immediately by an incoming Sending from the High Priest of Nightvale.

  Bloom events reported from Candlemere Isle and the Temple of the Elk. The rangers need reinforcements to cull the monsters. Kassil shrugged me off.

  Well, so much about chilling by the lake in the arms of a dear friend. Guelder's eyes popped open as she quickly formulated an answer.

  Leaving Silverstep Village for Candlemere immediately. Sending Valerie to Tuskdale as my substitute. Instruct Jaethal to meet me at the Candlemere Lake piers tomorrow morning.

  "Huh?" muttered Hazel, startled awake from a blissful drift of consciousness.

  "Nyrissa wants to see me," said Guelder, drying her feet with the corner of her cloak. "She is releasing monsters on my lands to hammer the message home."

  "And you are sending Valerie away to substitute for you in the capital, instead of letting her substitute for you on the field."

  "Exactly." Guelder squared her shoulders. "This time we might get to face off against Nyrissa in person. I would never pass up an opportunity like that."

  "And who will take the hit if you send your shieldmaiden away? Correct me if I am wrong, but you could not replicate that owlbear shapeshift ever since."

  "I can still do the brown bear. Or shall I send you back to Tuskdale to rule in my stead?"

  Hazel rolled their eyes and kept the rest of their arguments for themself as they scrambled off the rock. All the better. Guelder was not in the mood to go through the same conversation about taking too much risk the hundredth time. She slipped her feet into her boots and got up, taking the ranger's hand and returning to firm ground.

  And then another Sending arrived. This one came from Thopros Aldori, Kassil's dwarven cleric and aide, shedding some light on why the General might have shaken off Jhod's request for reinforcements.

  Top priority alert from General Kassil. Tiger Lords in Glenebon, threatening Brevoy. Lady Jamandi calls upon you as her ally to aid her with troops.

  Guelder's eyes darkened. She remained silent for a little while, formulating a polite response instead of the juicy Druidic expletives jousting on her tongue. She'd sounded the alarm more than once about Hannis Drelev's mysterious silence, or even absence. Her messengers sent to the third baron had been regularly stopped and turned back, or downright murdered, by river pirates on the East Sellen. She wasn't even sure if Glenebon had been organised into a state at all. But Lady Jamandi had never addressed her concerns in the same way she'd alerted Varnhold of troubles in Nightvale and vice versa. How could she let her most important buffer state fall to the dogs?

  Do your duty, Kassil. Sending Amiri ahead to help you with the barbarians. Joining in person once I have taken care of pressing internal matters.

  "Tiger Lords?" asked Hazel.

  Guelder nodded. "Already in Glenebon. Lady Jamandi wants us to join the war effort."

  "No strings attached, eh?"

  "Quit that, Hazel. I signed up for this barony business fully aware that there is no such thing as a free lunch, and I know where my duty lies."

  "I hope Kassil knows where his duty lies, too," said the ranger with a smirk.

  "Luckily, this time it makes no difference. Either path leads to Glenebon. Kassil will go ahead with the army. I hope I can catch up in time and try to mediate for a peaceful solution. But Nyrissa comes first. I shall gather the team to the common room of the inn for a briefing in half an hour. Use that time to visit Master Brevis in his shop and stock up on scrolls, potions, food and other sundries we might need. Off you go!"

  Hazel did their ridiculously poor version of salute (the one they used to annoy Darlac with) and left, heading for the merchant's shop. Guelder was left alone with the waves of duties and dangers crashing over her head once again.

  Deep inside, she didn't feel ready for a showdown with Nyrissa, but that was no reason to avoid it. She would probably never feel ready. If she managed to defeat her ilduliel, that would likely solve at least half the problems her barony was facing. And if the encounter claimed Guelder's life, Valerie would take her place at the helm in Tuskdale, while Kassil would stop the barbarian invasion with Lady Jamandi, and Nyrissa would have to wait for her grain for a little longer.

  But there was no time to dwell on the question of the final clash. There were plenty of things to do first. Get Amiri and Vordakai's three Tiger Lord captives to Tatzlford, and onwards to Glenebon, as quickly as possible. Discuss the tasks awaiting in the capital with Valerie. Message to Jaethal to bring Nok-Nok with her to Candlemere (that in and of itself was a recipe for disaster). Perhaps have Harrim try to reach Dugath with a Sending to find out what had become of him and whether he could be counted on as an ally. And most importantly, figure out the owlbear form, the most fitting shape to rough up Nyrissa in.