“War?” Isa jolted at the word. “We’re just trying to get my girlfriend back. I don’t want to start some grand conflict.”

Ysel sighed. “To get Alice back, to ensure her safety and your own, it is war.” She held out her arms and one of the women put a long leather coat through one arm and then the other. The other woman tied a leather strap around Ysel’s waist and hung a club like Isa’s at her side.

“But,” Ysel went on, “this is but a skirmish in a greater endeavor. You and I will take 2 of my clan with us. A druid and a ranger. We travel light, hit them fast, and flee.”

“How many did you see in your bowl?”

“I see what Alice sees. She is being held at a sacred place called Hal-ghit Hal. There are at least 4 around her, but I would expect half a dozen total, perhaps a few more.”

“Half a dozen?!”

“We can summon bears to aid in the fight if needed.” Ysel strode toward the door. “Come. Gutharian Rites take time, but we cannot afford to delay.”

Isa finished tying off the lacing on one of the boots and leaped after Ysel. “What sort of rites?”

“Death rites. In this case I believe they want to destroy Alice’s soul so that she cannot be resurrected.” Ysel snapped her fingers, and a servant opened the front door. “But of course,” she said over her shoulder, “they think Alice is you.”

In the yard outside her house Ysel stopped and waved over a young blonde-haired elf woman with a bow and an older man with a braided beard. The rest of the dozen or so people continued with their work.

“Destroy her soul?” Isa shifted so that she was in front of Ysel. “What are you talking about? Is that even possible? I don’t--”

“Elves are old, older than even me. With magic, there is little they cannot do, if they will it. Now, heed me, all of you. We go to the Weblin Wood, to Hal-ghit Hal.”

The elf woman drew a quick breath, and the man simply nodded an acknowledgement.

“I do not know,” Ysel said, “all that we face there, past a high cleric and his pawns. I expect druids and mages, and--”

Isa said, “If this is war, shouldn’t we bring a few….” She realized that the entire yard had stopped working, and everyone stared at her. “Um…. shouldn’t we bring more people, just in case?”

“Mortals don’t generally interrupt me,” Ysel said. She crossed her arms. “In case you are wondering why the clan stands speechless. That is why.”

“I’m sorry? You’re my first goddess, and you look - no offense - you look mostly human, so it’s easy to forget.” Isa paused. This woman - this goddess - was her only hope for rescuing Alice. She said, “I really am sorry. I just want to get my girlfriend and go home.”

“It is well that you are here, Isa. Your world and our world must not continue to mingle together. Your world is like yellow dye seeping into ours. It cannot continue.”

“Good, yes, agreed. So let’s bring a fucking army and get Alice, then we’ll be out of your hair forever.”

Ysel’s eyes glowed bright green and her hair swept back as if a strong wind blew. “I am the Lady of Lockwood, and that’s all the army you need.”

All the people in the yard, including Fara and Mellar, knelt. Isa took a step back and bowed, keeping her head down. She hadn’t doubted Ysel’s claim to divinity, not exactly, but she’d had no frame of reference for the power a goddess would wield. She still didn’t - to be honest - but Ysel was Isa’s only hope, so she’d go 4 against who knew how many and hope for the best.

***

They stepped through another glowing tree trunk and emerged in the cool shadows of an ancient forest. Isa could hear the bubble of a stream running nearby. Ysel put a finger to her lips, making sure that the other three saw her. She took 3 steps forward and paused. She then motioned them forward. Isa was aware of the weight of the new armor across her shoulders. The scales swoosh-swooshed together as she walked. In response Isa slowed her walk by half, trying to stride like a model on the catwalk.

Ysel put a hand on Fara’s shoulder and pointed into the distance. The ranger nodded and slipped off her bow. Ysel touched Fara’s quiver of arrows, whispering something in the elf’s ear. The ranger drew an arrow, paused, and loosed it into the forest, but whatever she was aiming for, she missed.

Wordlessly Fara turned to Ysel, her face in pain. The goddess touched her hair and smiled. She motioned the others forward. In barely a whisper she said, “There is a lookout ahead. We will try to eliminate him when we are a little more in range.”

Fara swallowed and nodded.

Carefully they moved forward. Isa was beginning to get a rhythm for walking as quietly as possible in the armor, but was it worth the extra protection? She thought about Broswin, her fighter in their weekly D&D game. She had splint armor - whatever that was - and an AC of 19. That was nice in the game. The bad guys had trouble damaging Broswin, but it was hell for the fighter to sneak up on anyone. And now Isa understood precisely why.

Ysel halted them again and nodded to Fara. The elf took a deep breath, nocked an arrow and let it fly. In the middle distance Isa saw a brief spout of flame and then it was gone. Ysel nodded her head and patted Fara on the shoulder. “Forward,” she said softly.

With slow movements, the 4 of them advanced through the forest. Mellar had been quiet until now. He gripped his club and whispered to it. The handle flashed with silver light. He leaned toward Isa. Softly he said, “Cast your spell, child. The holy word is wrath.”

“You mean shillelagh?”

He nodded, so Isa gripped the club in her right hand and brought it up near her head. It felt odd to whisper to a piece of wood, but she did it anyway. As the word “wrath” left her mouth, the silver inlay began to glow.

“Hold it tight,” he told her. “And when the glow fades, whisper again. Do it as often as you must, even during the fight, yes? Cast the spell and swing.”

Isa swallowed because she saw a sick, brown glow in the distance, and she knew that she was about to do what she thought she’d never have to do again: kill.