Simon

Flying is the worst thing ever.

I don't have any idea how Katerina can stand it. This is the strongest evidence I have uncovered to date that she is lying to us, and has actually been bewitched by the dragons. I can think of no other reason why someone would willingly get onto one of these sadistic giant bats and allow them to fly you somewhere. It is far easier to believe she was forced into doing it.

Flying is cold. It is loud. The wind is always in your face. The ground is very, very far below you. The only thing keeping you from falling to your death is a dragon, one who in my case I am still completely certain would be just as happy to laugh at me while I fell as to try and catch me.

It is also incredibly boring. I do not know if Enola was simply ignoring me when I tried to talk to her, or if the wind was just too loud for her to hear me, but either way I spent the entire flight in silence. With nothing to do but hold on for dear life.

The only thing that makes it worth considering at all is, perhaps, the speed. Being able to travel in a straight line without having to follow a road out of your way through connecting villages, or around rivers or other obstacles, cuts travel time considerably. And as much as I hate to admit anything positive about this sour pink lizard, she is much, much faster than a horse and cart. Other than a single stop to let Captain Mason's escort know they could turn back, we flew straight here without any interruptions. In a little under half a day she had finished a trip that before had taken me four days by horse.

I personally believe she went out of her way to make the ride as turbulent for me as possible, but she carried the cart in her hands the entire way, and all of the crystals survived the trip without suffering damage. If anything, they seemed to have done even better in her care than had I taken them by horse – the normal nicks and chips I have come to expect were nowhere to be found, and the raw crystals were just as unblemished as when I first pulled them out of the tunnels.

Even with the added convenience, I wish that blue dragon had never brought this saddle. I am certain he worked with Enola to get back at me for annoying her, and that he is laughing at the whole thing from wherever he is now – which, according to Enola, is chasing after some bandits that were spotted around here.

But as much as I hate flying, it does seem to have had some sort of impact on Enola's mood. I would not call her 'cheerful' by any means, but I suspect this is the closest to 'happy' as she is capable of being. She has asked me two questions about the town – why she couldn't land at the soldiers' barracks directly (or, as she called it, the 'knights' castle'), and if we were deliberately taunting dragons by building houses that were so clearly flammable – and while those may not seem like much, that is still more interest in human behavior than I have ever seen in the two months I have known her.

Enola's claim that my close work with the crystals would interfere with magical senses seems to be holding true. I was forced to meet with a court mage as part of this month's delivery, but despite being around him for some time and even touching him as part of handing over the crystals, he did not discover I was a Wellspring, and quickly excused himself on account of a growing headache.

Crystal mining would seem to be an effective way to hide ourselves from magical detection.

Though I still cannot help but wonder – if such a concentrated mass of magical power causes headaches for a mage, and clouds their ability to sense magic...

...why does Enola want to live there?

I do not believe her excuse that dragons are unbothered by the crystals. The blue dragon that occasionally visits Enola has avoided entering her lair each time I have seen him, and kept a noticeable distance from me at other times. It may be that he simply dislikes being around humans or being underground, but I don't think that is it. I think it is more likely that the crystal energies bother dragons the same way they do human mages – meaning we can use it as protection from dragons too – but that Enola is somehow a unique exception to that.

My suspicion is that Enola is hiding something from me in regards to this, and has some ulterior motive for staying around the crystals. I do not know what it is, or if it is related to the details Katerina put in her letter.

I will write again once I have learned more.

"Explain this, human."

I signed my name to the letter and began folding it even as I looked up at Enola's question. One of the good things about being in a larger town was that they had pencils, which meant I didn't have to wait for the ink to dry before closing it up in an envelope. "Hm? What is it?"

"That group over there. The ones yelling at each other. Are they... what is the word. When humans drink the juice from rotting fruits, so as to dull their senses and make it easier for predators to eat them." Enola frowned in thought for a second. "I believe it is, 'dunked'?"

"Drunk." I smiled a little at the large dragon's interpretation of alcohol. "And no, they aren't. They're practicing for a play."

Enola's frown deepened as she watched the gathering of actors. "They do not seem to be having much fun. If anything, they seem angry. If they are that bad at playing, then it is no wonder they need practice, but it seems strange to me that you would need to. Most creatures are able to play as soon as they can walk. You humans are odd little creatures."

"Not that kind of play." I pointed at the stage beneath the actors. "It's a performance. They are actors in a show; each one has a different character they pretend to be, and they will act out the story to an audience. They are practicing to make sure they know all of their lines, and working to convey the appropriate feel of the scene. Which in this case seems to be 'anger'. If I had to guess, this play is about some of the battles back in the Mage Wars."

The pink dragon was quiet for a moment as she watched the actors continue to yell at each other. The scene reached its height as one of the actors pulled out a fake sword and lunged at another actor, then ran off the stage as the other actors chased after him. One actor remained behind to hold the 'dead' actor, yelling out a fake sounding wail that still needed a lot of work, but I ignored the actors and watched Enola.

Something had changed in her eyes when the fake swords had come out, and I noticed her wings were resting a little tighter against her sides. It reminded me of how she had looked when she had seen the soldiers two months back, before she had finally agreed to let me negotiate the deal for the crystals. "Why would humans watch something like this?"

I shrugged. "Different reasons. Maybe just to have the fun of cheering on 'the good guys'. Sometimes to let people know the cost involved in fighting before they do something foolish. Sometimes to help them get it out of their system, especially in younger people, by letting them do it in a way that's more constructive. Or at least in a way that doesn't get anyone hurt."

Enola was quiet for a long moment while the 'dead' actor got back to his feet. The other actors joined him back on the stage, and their voices dropped to more conversational levels. They gave each other suggestions and advice over the scene they had just done, then started moving back to their earlier positions around the stage. The scene started up again, and we watched as the actors pretended to be a group of angry mages upset over something that had probably been explained in an earlier scene.

Finally, the pink dragon spoke again, though her voice was much softer this time. "Maybe your silly kind does have a bit of sense in their skulls after all." She snorted and shook her head, then looked back at me. "Is it time to begin traveling back, or do you have more business in this town?"

The change of topic was obvious, and I decided not to pry any further. "I usually spend the night. The crystals are all delivered, so my only plans are to send off these letters, then find a tavern in which to get 'dunked'."

Enola shot a glare at me, then looked away dismissively. "Very well. I think I will stay here and watch more of this 'play' while you do that. But do not expect me to be upset when you end up getting eaten by wolves."

~

The man behind the counter frowned for a second when I entered the tavern, then brightened. "Welcome! Simon, isn't it? What can I get for you today?"

I suppressed a minor twinge of panic. The bartender remembered me from my last visit. That was a problem – keeping a low profile was crucial to hiding the secret about Wellsprings, and being recognized was the complete opposite of what I was going for. The soldiers had probably spent the past month gossiping about me on their off hours... and I had probably left an impression all on my own last time, just from buying drinks for all the soldiers. That sort of thing stuck in the minds of staff looking out for a source of generous tips. It would be best if I found a different tavern next month, or if I skipped visiting a tavern altogether. I probably should have done that already, but Connor had sent me a confusing letter demanding I meet him here after delivering the crystals.

"Just some coffee, if you don't mind." Contrary to what I had let Enola believe, I had no interest in alcohol – even last month I had only had a few of the light ciders the tavern kept, while the soldiers worked on the heavier stuff. The pink dragon was right, even though I would never tell her that. Getting a few drinks in me would be a good way to get secrets out of me, and I couldn't afford that. My life depended on my secrets being kept.

And I really wanted a good cup of coffee. I still hadn't had any luck brewing it over the campfire, and Enola still absolutely refused to give me a cooking spell. Or anything, really, aside from the occasional details she doled out during our dinner chats.

The bartender grinned as he headed towards the kitchen in the back room. "You got it."

I sat down at one of the tables and pulled my cloak a little closer around me. There weren't many people in the tavern right then, and the few who were there seemed to be happily engaged in their own conversations. That meant they weren't as likely to remember me – even if the bartender had blurted my name out for everyone to hear – but it still made me feel better to be concealed in my cloak and happily off to the side of the room.

A few minutes passed before the bartender came back with a steaming mug of deliciousness. I slipped him a few coins – payment and a modest tip, not too cheap and not too generous, so I wouldn't stand out in his mind any further than I already had – and settled in to wait. The coffee smelled delicious... but a cautious sip informed me it was barely any better than the stuff I made over a campfire. The beans couldn't have been of very good quality, and it had probably burned a few times as it had been cooked and then reheated in the pot back in the kitchen.

Still, it was better than what I had managed myself. I sat the cup back down and wished for the hundredth time I could get a good heating spell out of Enola. I knew she had them – her eyes always lit up when I mentioned a heating spell specifically, and she couldn't quite hide the start of a grin for some reason – but just like with any other spell I asked about, she always refused to make one for me. And I was out of ideas at this point – if saving her home wasn't worth even a simple cooking spell, I couldn't imagine what would be.

Could Katerina have been wrong about the magedebt? Enola was very against me doing favors for her of any kind, which would make sense if my favors created an obligation for her... but it didn't explain her unwillingness to give me anything to lessen that obligation. If I had created a magedebt with my actions, Enola should want to give me something in exchange, but with the notable exception of the two crystals she had given me last month, that never seemed to be the case.

Had Katerina lied? And if she had, did that mean she had walked into a trap? Was her letter really just a scheme of the dragons to catch more Wellsprings? Enola hadn't tried anything in the two months I had been around her, and if anything she seemed to just want me to go away... but dragons lived a long time. They could be patient and clever. And just because something didn't make sense to me, that didn't mean it didn't make sense to a dragon.

Was I wrong about Enola, and in the process of being caught in a trap?

Nearly an hour had passed – during which I had added a plate of some sort of overcooked meat to my table, which I could only guess as to the animal it came from – before I saw Connor walk into the tavern. He seemed a bit tired, as if he had just gotten into town from a long day of walking, and had a fair amount of dust and dirt on his clothes. His eyes passed over me... and continued onward, scanning the rest of the tavern as if I was of no more importance than an empty chair.

I returned the favor by ignoring him completely, too, and turned back to my food.

Connor made a show of walking up to the bar and ordering a drink – one of the house ales from the sound of it, which made me assume he was ordering it for show and didn't plan to actually drink any of it – then wandered back to my table. "Excuse me – mind some company? I can find another table if you'd rather be alone, but I've been on the road all day, and I need to catch up on the news around town."

His words were loud enough to be heard by the other tables, and gave us some cover in case anyone was too curious. I nodded at him and pushed one of the chairs out with a foot. "Go right ahead. Where did you come from?"

"Small village south of here." Connor sat into the seat and made a motion of sipping from his drink... though I noticed he didn't actually drink from it, just as I had expected. "Just passing through. With any luck I'll make Emerson by the end of the year."

"That's quite the journey." Surprise slipped into my voice – Emerson was quite a journey from Yellowseed, and it would be unusual to hear somebody was going to make such a trip – but I was more suspicious than surprised. Emerson was the go-to 'cover city' we used when we were trying to hide our real backgrounds.

If Connor was using it with me... then that meant he didn't trust me anymore. Even for his made-up cover stories.

"It is, but it is what it is. Family." Connor shrugged as if that explained everything. "What about you? Lived here long?"

"Just dropping off some supplies for the king. I'll be heading out tomorrow, I'm sure." I risked a careful glimpse at the other tables. Everyone seemed to be absorbed in their own conversations, and weren't paying us any attention. I dropped my voice to a quieter level. "Why'd you want a meeting?"

Connor reached for his mug again, but his other hand reached into his cloak. I tensed for a moment as something metallic gleamed in his hand... but the weapon I was afraid of turned out to just be a simple pendant woven onto a necklace. He slid it across the table towards me. "Put it on."

I frowned and picked up the necklace. The pendant had been carved into the crude likeness of a mouse, with a cute nose and two beady eyes. A tingling sensation went through my fingers as I touched it, playing against the shields I had surrounding my magic, but it passed as quickly as it had appeared. "What is it?"

"Detection spell. Put it on." Connor took another false sip from his mug, keeping his voice low, but I saw his free hand reach back into his cloak. "Or else we assume the dragons got to you."

I eyed the pendant for another moment... then I shrugged and slipped it over my head. It settled over my shoulders and stared out at Connor from above my shirt. "Happy?"

Connor stared at the pendant, then nodded. "Yeah. Sorry about that; we just wanted some extra assurance you weren't under some kind of spell."

"Oh?" I held the pendant up and took another look at it. I had just been wondering if Enola was playing some sort of game with me, so I was glad to have some extra reassurance. "What is this? I assume it told you I'm trustworthy?"

Another nod met me as Connor put his hands back on the table and relaxed. "I traded that crystal you sent us to a mage. Then I had a second mage confirm the spell actually did what the first mage said. It will still clean your clothes like that other spell you took with you, but that's just a cover. When you're wearing it, the pendant lights up if you're under the influence of magic. One eye lights up if the magic is stopping you from saying something. Two if it's forcing you to say what somebody else wants you to say." He nodded again towards the pendant. "And the whole thing will light up if you're under a spell that is messing with your perceptions. Making you hear and see something completely different, that sort of thing."

I frowned. "If there's a spell like that at work, I won't necessarily know if it's glowing. It would look like everything's fine."

Connor just shrugged again. "You wouldn't, sure. But it's to let us know we can keep trusting you. If you're worried your new friend is bewitching you, you'll have to come up with your own way of figuring that out." He glanced towards the door, then shot another look back at me. "Though if you think she might be doing that..."

"I'm paranoid. I think everybody might be doing that. I can't afford not to." I tucked the pendant underneath my shirt and looked back at Connor. "And I'd hardly call her my friend. She can still barely stand me. Most days I think she'd rather eat me and take her chances with the king's army than put up with me."

Connor leaned in, letting his voice get slightly quieter. "Tell me about it. We've been getting your letters, but since I'm here, it doesn't hurt to get the story again. What have you learned about her so far?"

"Honestly, not much. This last month has been extremely uneventful." I slipped one hand into my cloak and brought out the bundle of unsent letters from the last two weeks. Then with one eye on the rest of the tavern in case any of the other patrons showed signs of eavesdropping, I began retelling the boring stories of mining crystals and cooking food for a grumpy dragon.