“We should go east! The center of Nimrien is due east of here!” Nalyn declared, squaring off toe to toe with Torbek.

“No, we should go north! We don’t know where to even begin looking for this thing, except that the Collector said that it was in a tower, and it makes sense to start at the tower as far to the northwest as possible and work systematically through Nimrien!” Torbek roared.

“We do know where to start looking! Roger said to go east, and that it wasn’t in a tower anymore!”

“Roger didn’t know his rear end from his elbow, his mind was so addled with the smoke!”

“He knew we were looking for a grimoire, before any of us even said it to him!”

“He was a smelly, drugged up loser who made a lucky guess! If this grimoire is as valuable as the Collector says it is, it’s hardly impossible that even Roger could have heard about it!” Torbek stamped his foot, as if to emphasise his point, and Elion flinched.

“East!” insisted Nalyn.

“North!” Torbek bellowed.

“EAST!”

“NORTH!”

“Enough!” Sestra got between the warring dwarves and pressed a hand to each of their breastplates. “You’re both right. But one of you has got to be a bit more right than the other, so let’s talk about this like rational beings!”

“Rational beings?” Bill scoffed loudly. “That’s bloody rich, coming from you! You mouthed off to the most important person in our lives at the moment, potentially jeopardizing all of our wellbeing, and when I took the time to point it out, you held a knife to my throat!”

It seemed to Elion that all the diplomacy Sestra possessed had been used up on breaking up the fight between Nalyn and Torbek. He watched as she rounded on Bill, fury written so clearly across her face that even he could read it.

“Because you kicked me!” she shrieked, yanking the dagger from her belt and advancing on him.

“This is just not going well. Not going well at all,” Elion murmured to himself, watching the scene with wide eyes. Callania, by his side, nodded.

“This is the reality of the situation,” she said in her calm, deliberate way. “It will take us several days at most to travel to the center of Nimrien… and several weeks, if not months, to start at the northernmost tower and work our way systematically through the land. In light of these facts, does it not make the most sense to quickly ascertain if Roger was right or not? If he is, we will have saved a lot of time. If he is not, we have lost nothing, for we would have had to search there eventually anyway.”

It was the most that Elion had yet heard Callania say in one go. So far, she had been more of a “watch and take everything in” sort of person.

“I thought Roger was pretty convincing,” he chimed in. “And I think Callania’s plan makes a lot of sense.”

“I’m all for anything that means we get this fool’s errand over with as soon as possible,” Sestra grumbled. “I’m for going east.”

“Well… if it IS there, can we still travel around a bit afterwards?” Bill said, his voice timid. “My mum didn’t want to let me come in the first place. I want to travel around as much as I can before I have to go home.”

“I must confess, I would like to see more of Nimrien before returning to Hallinet,” Callania said. “And another advantage of heading east, is that takes us through the Six Seas. It is my home, and my family will welcome us and give us a place to stay if we wish.”

“Once the quest is over, those who want to stay together and keep traveling could do so, and those who want to go home, could do that,” Nalyn acquiesced.

“Oh fine!” Torbek rumbled. “I’ll follow you east if I must.”

That was easy, Elion thought. Too easy…

“But when we inevitably find out I was right all along, I reserve the right to tell you all I told you so, ” Torbek went on.

Ah. There it was.

Night was falling rapidly, between their long walk and their odd little interlude with Roger. As part of their equipment, each of them had been given a one-man tent and they pitched them in a clearing around a central campfire. That is to say, Bill attempted to pitch his, failed miserably, and got shown up dreadfully by Callania coming along and doing it for him. But here they were.

“Should we have some sort of a watch tonight?” Elion asked.

“I’ll take the first watch,” Sestra piped up, narrowly beating Torbek, who glared at her. “I don’t mind staying up a bit later if it means I don’t have to wake up again until morning. I ain’t stupid.”

The rest of them divided up the night watch slots and settled down to sleep, while Sestra sat by the campfire, dagger across her lap, waiting.

Elion had claimed the third watch, and he rubbed his eyes roughly to try to wake himself up when Torbek came to shake him awake. Being on watch for the party, he thought, was a big responsibility, and he sat rigid by the fire, clutching his lute, hardly daring to breathe as he looked all around them. When his watch was over he woke Bill, who yawned and took his place by the fire as Elion crawled back into his tent.

The wolves that lived in the wood had smelled the fire and had been prowling around the outskirts of the clearing for most of the night.

Perhaps ordinary wolves wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference between someone keeping watch awake, and that someone having fallen asleep. These wolves could. These wolves saw the exact moment when Bill’s eyes slipped closed. These wolves, intelligence slightly enhanced by the magic humming in the very fabric of Nimrien, watched him slip deeper into slumber, and waited for their moment.

When Bill’s chin slipped out of his hand and he jolted awake, they waited. When he slid off the log on which he was sitting, and settled himself on the ground in front of it, they waited. And when his eyes fluttered shut the final time, they made their move.

Elion tossed and turned, punching his makeshift pillow and wriggling under his thin blanket. To him, Bill seemed like a nice guy, if a little full of himself, but there was something about him that just didn’t scream “reliable”. Elion left his tent flaps open.

At a particularly loud rustle he sat up, eyes scanning the clearing… and Bill lay curled up asleep on the ground. Elion’s eyebrows furrowed. This wasn’t a joke! Their safety lay in the balance! He tossed off his blanket, but before he could stand, a movement tickled the edge of his consciousness.

Directly across the fire from where he had pitched his tent, four hulking, shaggy beasts stood slavering at the edge of the clearing. Their big yellow eyes glinted in the firelight. Elion estimated each of them to be at least as big as he was, and one of them even bigger.

He paled, his heart leaping up into his throat. He grabbed for his lute, but paused: any song he might play, any spell he might try to cast, would only draw attention to himself...

There was a distinct chance it would fail anyway.

What to do, what to do? He could crawl over into the next tent and wake Torbek… but would Torbek object to being woken? Probably not for such a good reason as wolves slipping into the clearing where the party was sleeping… but maybe he could wake Nalyn instead? But she was on the other side of the clearing, beyond the fire, and he’d have to crawl an awfully long way to get to her. He’d almost certainly attract the attention of the wolves.

Callania’s tent was beside Nalyn’s, putting her equally out of reach. And Bill was central, but illuminated by the fire’s light, so if Elion approached him, however quietly and slowly, he would be illuminated too.

All of this thinking was done in the briefest of moments, and all the while the wolves inched closer, nosing curiously at their luggage, piled behind the tents. He made a decision finally, slipped out under the side of his tent and rolled quickly under the side of Sestra’s, dragging his lute behind him.

Sestra was awake in an instant, her dagger drawn and at Elion’s throat before he had a chance to tell her what he was doing there. “You get any funny ideas, elf boy, and I’ll gut you like a fish,” she snarled.

“W…w…” Elion stammered in a hoarse whisper.

“Sp…sp…spit it out!” she demanded, her tone mocking.

“Wolves!”

He sat rigid as Sestra looked out the front flap of her tent, obviously spotting the very real threat. She removed the dagger from Elion’s throat and sheathed it.

“I’m going out there,” she said.

“You can’t!” Elion was horrified. “They’ll eat you. You’re so little!”

“I’m little, and I’m sneaky. I can get to Axe Girl and Elf Lady before they notice me, I bet you a shiny gold sogara.”

“I haven’t got a sogara.”

“You can pay me after the Collector pays us.” Sestra stole out of the tent silently without waiting for Elion’s approval.

There didn’t seem to be anything he could do but ready his lute. He didn’t know what help he could possibly be, but if there was a chance, even a small one, he would be prepared. His eyes were wide and teary, terrified at the danger they were all in, but mostly horrified that Sestra was out there unprotected and alone, despite the fact that his throat was still a bit sore from where her dagger had rested. He risked a look out of the tent…

She was almost there! She had been right, she had been stealthy, and quick. She inched her way around the clearing, keeping to the shadows and carefully out of the light cast by the fire, and she was mere yards from the spot where Callania and Nalyn had pitched their tents beside one another.

One of the wolves, the biggest one, sniffed the air and looked around. Elion held his breath.

Sestra had been spotted.

Heart in his throat, he watched the tableau play out. Sestra threw him a cheeky grin and a wink as she kept going toward the far tents, completely oblivious to any danger. The wolves, all four of them having spotted her now, fell into a crouch and began to slink closer. Bill, snoring away like he was sawing logs for the fire, was now curled up on the ground, completely useless.

The wolves were closer to Sestra than she was to Nalyn’s tent and relative safety, and she didn’t know they had seen her. She was actually walking backwards now, almost dancing, poking her tongue out and grinning at him.

If he didn’t do something, and quickly, the wolves were almost certainly going to reach Sestra, and eat her.

Given how small she was, it was highly unlikely they would stop there. Screwing his eyes tightly shut, Elion took a deep breath and burst from the tent, strumming his lute rapidly and singing at the top of his lungs.

“OH NIMRIEN, SWEET NIMRIEN, WE LIVE OUR LIVES FOR THEE!”

He risked a peek. The wolves’ heads jolted upwards and they refocused on him. He saw Sestra freeze, her grin falling as she mouthed something furious at his idiocy. He saw Bill jolt awake, clapping his hands over his ears.

“Elion, what the…” And he knew if he kept looking, he’d lose his nerve, so he scrunched up his face again and kept going.

“FROM PABURH TOWN TO ABEN WOODS, YOU’RE ALWAYS HOME TO ME!”

If he just kept singing, if he just kept the attention on himself, then Sestra could get to the tents and let Nalyn know what was up. Added bonus: Nalyn was sure to be awake already thanks to the sheer volume of his singing. Unexpected downside: the wolves had stopped stalking Sestra, and were now padding in his direction, a hungry look in their eyes. The biggest one even licked his face as if in anticipation of a meal, and Elion’s desperate strumming faltered for just a moment.

“What the bloody hell is all the commotion?” Torbek did not sound pleased.

“WHEN WOLVES APPROACH, WE CANNOT RUN, THE SKY TOO DARK TO SEE,” Elion wailed on. His mother’s assessment of his voice had not been far from the truth: he really was dreadful. But he could apologize when they got through this alive, right?

He risked another peek. Torbek didn’t appear to be listening to the hastily improvised lyrics. He stormed over to Elion and made as if to grab the lute and quite possibly smash it, but it was beginning to glow sky blue. Elion sucked in a relieved breath when he spied the glow. Well, his spell was working, in a manner of speaking. It was supposed to be a luck spell, to bring luck to the party. It was the only thing he could think of that might help—that and the distraction factor of screaming out a song at the top of his lungs.

“Will you stop that infernal caterwauling?” Torbek snapped.

“THE ONLY WAY TO SAVE OURSELVES, IS CLIMBING UP A TREE!”

Now Elion opened his eyes fully, meeting Torbek’s glare with his own attempt at a meaningful gaze, nodding toward the wolves. And now, Torbek’s eyes widened as he saw the danger—and how close the danger had been to Sestra, who was just slipping under the side of Nalyn’s tent—and how close the danger now was to the two of them.

With a loud grunt of effort, Elion sent the blue glow from his lute into the air, where it seemed to sort of “pop” and rain gently down on the six of them. Sestra made it into Nalyn’s tent, and seconds later the two of them came tumbling out of its front flaps, ready for battle.

Torbek charged, and Elion did as his ad hoc song had suggested, hastily abandoning his lute and scrambling up a tree just as the wolves leaped for him. With one mighty swipe of his sword, Torbek cleaved one of them in two. The rest might have run at that. Ordinary wolves may well have run at the sound of Elion’s terrible singing. But these wolves, imbued with Nimrien’s magic, simply got angry.

Nalyn’s battle axe took the head off a second wolf, and Callania, emerging from her tent, quickly grabbed for her bow and notched an arrow. Bill rose, holding his hands up.

”Wait! I’m a wizard, I’ll just…” He pulled out his wand started chanting in rapid Ehvari, language of the elves, waggling his wand here and there. Elion cringed at his dreadful accent, but light, a pale buttermilk color, rose from Bill’s wand, and he threw it upwards as he stumbled over the last words.

“No!” Elion cried in horror. He didn’t know what Bill had actually been going for, but he knew what Bill had said, and it didn’t bode well. He buried his face under his arm just in time.

An intense, blinding light filled the clearing, rendering it as light as day—lighter, even. Torbek and Nalyn, who had both been watching the wolves, eyes unblinking, stumbled and fell to their knees, clutching their faces.

“I’m blinded!” Torbek cried.

Callania fired. Her arrow went wide, ripping through Nalyn’s tent and embedding itself in a tree, nowhere near any wolves. Sestra ran up to the biggest wolf. It was so big, in fact, that it towered over her, but instead of cowering back, she used it to her advantage, thrusting her dagger in its chest, running toward its tail and dragging the dagger so that the wolf was gutted. It died almost instantly.

Only one wolf remained. But Torbek couldn’t see, and neither could Nalyn, both of them blinking rapidly to try to get their sight back after the explosion of light Bill had cast. Sestra struggled to free her dagger, and herself, from the entrails of the dead wolf. Callania fumbled with another arrow.

“OH NIMRIEN, DEAR NIMRIEN,” Elion began again, but his lute lay on the ground below. Without it, there was no magic, just caterwauling as Torbek had so flatteringly put it.

“Enough with the magic!” Torbek yelled. “Just let me…”

He swung blindly, his sword slicing the nearest tree and getting firmly stuck. Callania fired another arrow, but missed again, only managing to nick the remaining wolf’s ear, leaving it largely unharmed but exceedingly angry. It pounced at Callania.

Bill threw himself on the ground, cowering.

Callania cried out in fear, dropping her bow and covering her face and head with her hands.

“Callania!” Nalyn gasped, but Elion watched her hesitate, rubbing at her unseeing eyes again and brandishing her axe at nothing.

There was no one left who could fight.

No one, except Elion.

He didn’t stop to overthink it. He hurled himself out of the tree and hit the ground running. Grabbing his lute, he twanged out a few chords as he ran, hollering a half remembered nursery rhyme from his own childhood. It was supposed to be a pain spell—the words weren’t as important as the chords, as the intent, or so they’d kept on telling him. He threw the sickening green light from his lute at the remaining wolf’s face.

It howled in anguish, but Elion couldn’t tell if it was because his spell had hit home or because of his terrible singing voice. It didn’t matter. Either way, the wolf was again focused on him.

Gasping for breath, Elion looked around frantically for a weapon. The only one in reach was Nalyn’s axe—Nalyn’s axe that he already knew he couldn’t lift.

“Bill!” he called. “Help me!”

But Bill didn’t move, unless you could call shaking in fear “moving”.

Seizing a stone, Elion threw it with all his might at the wolf, but it merely bounced off its head and gently landed on the ground. He backed away, grabbing anything he could reach and throwing it at the wolf. Any minute now, he knew, it would pounce and it would all be over. Well, at least he would die protecting the party.

“AYAYAYAYAY!” Sestra finally freed herself from the belly of the wolf she had killed and came running, jumping on the remaining wolf’s back. As Elion watched it tensing to pounce at him, Sestra slit its throat in one swift motion.

The wolf landed heavily on top of Elion, knocking him to the ground. He turned his face away from its teeth, but it didn’t matter. The wolf was already dead.

“All right, elf boy?” Sestra asked, the light and cheeky tone of her voice contrasting with the worry written on her face.

“Get it off me!” Elion gasped.

Nalyn, still blinking rapidly, rolled the wolf to one side as Elion scrambled out from underneath it.

The five of them convened around the fire and Bill, who was peeking out from behind his hands. “Is it over?” he asked.

“Who was on watch?” Nalyn asked dangerously.

Bill raised his hand, looking sheepish.

“You had one job!” Sestra exploded, and the rest of the party looked similarly unamused. Elion had been slightly awestruck by having a real life wizard in their midst, but even he couldn’t muster up much enthusiasm for Bill right now.

“Thank you, Elion,” Callania said, holding out her hand to shake his. “You saved my life.”

“Ah, I didn’t do much of anything,” he said awkwardly. “It was Sestra who took care of the thing.”

“I cast light! It was dark, so I lightened up the clearing,” Bill said hurriedly.

“You blinded us,” Torbek growled. “And nearly got us killed into the bargain. Whatever it was you thought you were doing, you bungled. Badly. And then when the chance to actually came up to be useful, you cowered by the fire like a babe in arms. What the Collector thought when he chose you, I cannot begin to fathom.”

“We should go back to bed.” Nalyn, ever the peacemaker, broke the silence after a long pause in which Bill seemed to fold in on himself.

“Do you want me to keep watch?” he asked.

“NO!” shouted everyone.

“I’ll take over the watch,” Elion offered.

“Nay, elfling. Get some rest. You’ve earned it,” Torbek rumbled.

He raised a hefty hand to Elion, who flinched, thinking the dwarf was about to strike him for waking him with his singing. Instead, Torbek clapped him on the back heartily, then ruffled his hair.

Elion froze, somewhere between shock and pride, and managed a weak grin as everyone shuffled back to their tents.