5.25 L (1/2)

“And so we pray. Not for a god, not because we are chosen or beloved. We are alone.”

The mass of heads bowed before Pawn. He stood at the small earthen dais at the back of the room. It was nothing more than packed earth. Pawn held a censer in his hands. It was not burning, although a faint cinnamon smell still emanated from it. He had no intention of lighting it; it was just for comfort as he spoke.

“We are alone.”

The words echoed through the chamber over the listening Soldiers and Workers. Painful words. True words. Pawn knew them to be true. He raised his voice.

“However. I believe in heaven. I believe in salvation and the worth of our souls. I believe in you. So if you would, join me and have faith that there is a place for our kind. And if there is none, we shall build it ourselves. Let us pray.”

Pawn lowered his head and put two of his hands together, clasping them as he sensed the other Antinium doing the same. He prayed then, prayed without words. He imagined what heaven might be. He hoped it was real and that his words were not meaningless. For a while he stood thus, and felt better. That was all. He raised his head and spoke softly.

“Amen.”

A susurration ran through the crowd of Antinium as they raised their heads. The faintest of sounds; they did not sigh or speak. The sounds of their hands unclasping, of them standing or adjusting their posture was faint. But there was a change. Pawn nodded.

“Please come forwards and receive your wafers.”

He reached for a basket of round little pieces of flatbread and the Soldiers and Workers fell into line seamlessly. They cupped their hands as Pawn offered them the tiny pieces of bread. It was small enough that the digestion of the Antinium wouldn’t be unduly disturbed by the food. And it was tasty. Pawn offered the wafers to each Antinium in turn until he only had a few wafers in the basket and there were no more Antinium in line.

“Thank you for attending the sermon. You may return to your business.”

The Workers and Soldiers silently savoring the small bits of bread didn’t so much as nod. They instantly broke up. Pawn sighed as he scooped the wafers in the bottom of the basket up.

“Here. For the wounded.”

He offered the wafers to a huge Soldier who approached him. Yellow Splatters took the wafers and nodded. Pawn had to give them away; if he left them alone the Antinium would let them rot rather than eat them without permission. The [Sergeant] stepped towards some of the Painted Soldiers who had been wounded. They looked up and received the wafers silently, regardless if they had prayed or not.

Wafers. They were Pawn’s latest innovation. He’d ordered them ahead of time and petitioned Klbkch to add them to his budget. They weren’t an expense at all, but neither were they strictly necessary. The Revalantor had been confused as to why Pawn needed them and Pawn couldn’t explain properly.

It was a small thing. A nice thing. That was all. It wasn’t an incentive to join his weekly sermon and prayer—which in itself lasted about twenty minutes—but it was nice. Pawn had eventually convinced Klbkch that it was important. He could feed all the Antinium with it; give them a treat between their horrible meals. Even the ones who didn’t pray.

Ah, yes. Pawn raised his head and looked around. Not all the Antinium were eating. Some Workers and Soldiers stood apart from the others, waiting patiently for the others to finish savoring their snack. They had not joined the mass and had declined to receive a wafer, even though Pawn made it clear the wafers were there for everyone regardless of whether they prayed or not.

Not all prayed. What was curious to Pawn, what lifted his spirits was that not all the Antinium who became Individual prayed. He stood in the Soldiers’ barracks that had been converted into the formal meeting place for his unit of Painted Soldiers and now Workers and saw hundreds of Soldiers, and dozens of Workers. Of that number, roughly two thirds had attended his sermon. The rest had not. And, Pawn suspected, never would. They did not believe. And that was fine.

Belgrade would not pray. Anand would, but Pawn wondered if the Worker truly believed. Garry had not ever had time to join one of the masses and as for Bird…no. The Worker had told Pawn that it was more fun to sit in his tower. Even if it was raining. You never knew if a water bird was going to fall out of the sky. That was fine too. Pawn would believe for all of them.

He was two things in this place. An [Acolyte], a believer in something greater than any one Antinium. And a leader of the Painted Soldiers and Workers here. It was the Workers that Pawn turned his mind to now. He stared at the awkward Workers milling about in small clumps of their own, not talking, but rather standing around. Enjoying not working, perhaps.

In the weeks since he had gained his [Benediction of Hope] Skill, Pawn’s congregation had grown. As had the size of his unit of Individual Antinium. It was no longer just the Painted Soldiers but Individual Workers as well. His experiments with the chess boards had created a population of Individual Workers who were not Aberration…but weren’t as distinct as Pawn, Belgrade, or the others.

They could pass the Hive’s tests which other Antinium would fail at. If they were asked what their names were, they would quietly reply they had none. They would not break if confronted with questions about their purpose or identity. They had a spark. But Pawn thought that without Erin, without the time and…affection she had given him, they could not be more.

Workers and Soldiers. Pawn had no idea what to do with so many of them. Klbkch had simple orders: turn them into a fighting force. The Painted Soldiers were already more capable than regular ones and the Workers could use bows and perhaps even swords and shields. Daggers, maces, clubs—he had talked to Pawn about purchasing arms to test this theory. But Pawn knew in his heart that he needed something more. The Workers needed more than chess. The Soldiers needed more than the occasional walk in the sun or bowl of real food.

So what could he bring down into the Hive? What wonders could he carry down from above? How could he show them who they were? Pawn didn’t know, but he knew who did. He turned to the two Soldiers who stood by him. One had returned from attending to the wounded. He was the largest Soldier, distinct because he had an inch or two of height and body mass over the rest. His body was decorated with yellow splatters of paint.

The other Soldier was of equal height with the rest, but his mandibles were painted purple, as was part of his face to give him a strange, purple smile. True to his name, Purple Smile was relaxed, calm, where Yellow Splatters stood to straight attention. Yellow Splatters had been part of the praying Antinium. Purple Smile had not. Pawn addressed both of them.

“I am going to consult with Erin now. Purple Smile, please oversee the chess games. Yellow Splatters, I leave you in charge of training and responding to any emergencies that arise.”

The [Sergeants] both nodded. They turned—Purple smile waved one of his hands at Pawn—and marched towards their designated spot. Yellow Splatters supervised a group of Workers clumsily sparring with wooden swords and Soldiers sparring carefully with one another. Purple Smile wandered over to a group of Soldiers clustered around a chess board on the ground.

The Soldiers could now play with an oversized chess board that Pawn had commissioned for them. It was about six times larger than usual, so the Soldiers could move the pieces about with their clumsy hands. There was only one so far, with two more currently commissioned. Pawn was glad to see that the Soldiers were attentively watching the board as a Worker slowly pushed a piece forwards, trapping the Soldiers’ king.

He saw the Worker pause and the Soldiers stare at the king. The Worker shrank, but the Soldier he had been playing against calmly toppled the king piece. Purple Smile clapped his hands and instantly another Soldier took his place. Pawn shook his head as the Worker hesitantly began to reset his side of the board.

“Awkward.”

That was the only word for it. Awkward. The Workers had no idea how to behave around the Soldiers. They barely knew how to behave with time off with each other. The Soldiers scared them. It wasn’t as if they ever mixed. And the Soldiers themselves seemed to treat the Workers as fragile things to be ignored or carefully avoided. Pawn wanted to bridge the gap between them. They were all Antinium, after all. But he had no idea how.

So he did what he always did. He went to see Erin. It was a flawless plan, except for all the flaws in it. But Pawn did it. He liked seeing Erin. He liked visiting the inn. He had friends there. He hadn’t gone to the inn recently because he had duties in the Hive. And duty mattered. What drove Pawn out of his Hive and onto the rainy streets was duty, not personal pleasure. Okay, and because he liked seeing Erin. And his friends.

—-

The rain hit Pawn the instant he stepped out of the Hive. He jerked in alarm before remembering that this was what happened above. Pawn looked up at the grey skies. Strange. You could forget it was raining in the Hive. The water that poured down never so much as pooled in the entrance of the Hive; it was carefully diverted by many, many tunnels and runoff vents designed solely to keep the Hive safe. Above, Pawn felt exposed by the water. He scurried down the street, hunching as the wind picked up and more water splashed him in the face.

He didn’t like water. It wasn’t as bad as Belgrade, but every Antinium living in Liscor’s Hive who lived through a rainy season knew of the dangers it presented. A tunnel could burst or collapse and water flood a passageway, drowning any Antinium caught there. The Hive was designed to prevent water from filling it if a single tunnel broke, but that was small comfort to the Workers and Soldiers who would slowly drown, helpless, unable to swim.

Not that Pawn dwelt on such thoughts particularly long. It was just hard to forget when the city was surrounded by water. Pawn wondered when the rains would stop. It would be long, far too long before he was able to patrol with his Soldiers aboveground again. True, the waters would drain, but they would leave far too much mud behind for far too long. He needed a distraction, no, an occupation for his people in the meantime. Erin had to have a good idea.

No one stopped Pawn as he hurried down the street. The Drakes and Gnolls were equally consumed with avoiding getting wet and so Pawn made it to the western gate where Erin’s magical door was without incident. He reached for the door handle, opened it, and saw nothing but a blank wall behind.

“Oh. The door is not active yet.”

Pawn was slightly crestfallen. He waited in the rain, awkwardly hunching his shoulders and wondering when it would open. This was a new problem for the inn and Pawn had understood it could be a big problem, especially if no one opened the door for hours.

Happily, he only had to wait for nine minutes before the door opened. Relieved, Pawn stepped aside as someone walked through. Then he froze as a familiar black-brown Antinium walked though.

“Oh. Pawn.”

“Ksmvr.”

Pawn’s good mood took a slight downturn as he spotted the once-Prognugator of Liscor’s Hive. He stared at Ksmvr who paused in the rainy street. The two Antinium regarded each other. They had a history.

“I wish you a good morning, Pawn.”

“Thank you, Ksmvr. I appreciate you opening the door.”

“I was intending to train with Yvlon at the Adventurer’s Guild.”

“Good. For you.”

Silence. The two Antinium stared at each other. Ksmvr eventually jerked his head towards the gates.

“The issue of the magical door not opening will be solved soon.”

“How?”

“They are building a bridge from Liscor to the inn. Over the water.”

“Over?”

Ksmvr nodded. Pawn’s mandibles opened wide in horror. Over the water? He imagined walking on the bridge, while water was all around him, below him—

“I will never use that bridge.”

“Understandable. I, however, will cross it. To prove I am unafraid of water.”

Ksmvr’s voice shook a bit but he stood straighter, as if to prove himself. Pawn eyed him.

“Do you want to die?”

“No. But I must prove myself to my group.”

“But surely your teammates understand that you are unable to swim.”

The former Prognugator paused.

“That is irrelevant. I must conquer my fears. Any fears.”

Pawn shook his head. This was one of the reasons why he didn’t like Ksmvr. The other Antinium was just—Pawn edged around Ksmvr.

“I wish you luck. Truly. But I will go into the inn now. Is Erin there? I wanted to talk to her.”

The other Antinium nodded vaguely.

“She is. Although she is occupied. Captain Ceria told me to leave her and Lyonette alone.”

Pawn paused.

“Why? Is something wrong?”

“I don’t know. The [Barmaid], Miss Lyonette, is crying. She has not stopped.”

“Lyonette’s crying? Why?”

Suddenly Pawn was in front of Ksmvr. Up until this moment he hadn’t been interested in talking with him—he’d been hoping Ksmvr would step out of the way so Pawn could get inside the inn. But now he was keenly, horribly interested in what the other Antinium was saying. Unfortunately, Ksmvr was the wrong person to talk to.

“I have no idea why she is crying. She is not a member of my team. Therefore I only recorded this information as a pertinent piece of gossip.”

“Pertinent to what?”

“I do not know. Would you like me to ask why Lyonette is crying? Would that assist me in social gossip, do you think?”

“I must talk with her. Excuse me.”

Pawn shoved past Ksmvr. The other Antinium called out after Pawn.

“I resent your abrupt departure from the conversation!”

The door slammed shut. Pawn stared around The Wandering Inn, dripping, and looked around. He saw the Halfseekers eating, the Redfang Goblins sitting in a corner, Drassi and a Drake he did not recognize waiting tables—and no Lyonette. Where was she? Normally she’d be here, already hurrying towards him with his favorite drink—warm milk and honey.

“Crying?”

Why was Lyonette sad? Pawn saw Drassi point at him and come over. He stared around, hoping Lyonette would appear from behind a table. Maybe she was in the kitchen? Why was she crying? He’d seen her just the other day! But she’d been busy waiting tables and Pawn hadn’t wanted to distract her.

“Hey Pawn! Can I get you a seat? Are there more Soldiers coming in behind you? Do you want something to eat? To drink? Wow, you’re wet! We need a rug or something here. I should talk to Erin about that. Hey Pawn? Pawn?”

Drassi’s approach to meeting new people was to smother them with words. Pawn glanced at her distractedly.

“Oh. Thank you Drassi, but I am not hungry or thirsty. I came here to see Erin. Or Lyonette. Where is she?”

The female Drake’s face fell slightly.

“Lyonette? Um…she’s in her room. Taking a day off. She wasn’t feeling well. I dunno what was wrong, but Erin says she’s upset and so she won’t be down. But Erin’s in the kitchen. You want me to grab her?”

“Please.”

“Alright. Sure you don’t want a drink?”

“I am sure. Please get Erin for me.”

Pawn sat anxiously at a table, willing Drassi to walk faster as she entered the kitchen. Moments later Erin stepped out, wiping her hands which were covered with flour.

“Pawn! Oh no, I’m so sorry!”

“What?”

His heart beat faster as Erin looked distraught. She sat down as he half-rose and he sat with her.

“I completely forgot about your problem. We had plays all of yesterday and this morning there was this thing with Lyonette—look, I’m really sorry but I can brainstorm with you now if you’d like.”

“Oh.”

Pawn stared at Erin as she gave him a guilty look. The problems with the Workers and Soldiers. He’d forgotten all about that. It was why he was here of course. Pawn shook his head.

“That is unimportant at the moment. I was told by Ksmvr that Lyonette was upset. And Drassi. Is she well? Has something happened?”

“Lyonette? She’s…upstairs. She’s not doing so good. I don’t know why exactly, but I think something happened last night. Or it could be stress. She wouldn’t tell me.”

Erin frowned in worry. Pawn leaned forwards.

“She would not tell you? Why?”

“She didn’t tell me that either. Look, she might just be having a bad day, Pawn. Why? Did you need her?”

“No. I am concerned. May I see her?”

“See her?”

Erin chewed her lip, frowning. She glanced at Pawn.

“Well…I think she’d be happier to be by herself. But you two are friends. We can ask.”

“Please.”

Pawn stood up at once. Erin got to her feet with a sigh. She pointed up the stairs and Pawn led the way. All the while he wondered what was wrong. Why was Lyonette crying? Erin didn’t know. Why didn’t she know? She knew almost everything. Pawn had to ask. Lyonette was his friend. She was more than just a [Barmaid] that fed him and the other Antinium.

She was a [Princess]. Lyonette had told him. It was her secret, one she’d shared with Pawn. Pawn had kept that knowledge tucked in his chest. He didn’t know if she’d told Erin or anyone else. But he valued the trust all the same. He had gotten to know her when Erin was gone from the inn. If there was anything he could do—

“This door.”

Erin came to the first door in the hallway and rapped softly on the door. Pawn listened. He couldn’t hear much from inside, but at Erin’s knock he heard a quiet shuffling. It wasn’t Lyonette who opened the door, but Mrsha. The Gnoll cub stood clumsily on two legs as she pulled the door open.

“Hey Mrsha. Hey Lyonette. Sorry to bug you.”

The [Innkeeper] called cautiously into the room as Pawn tried to look over her shoulder. He couldn’t see past her. Erin stepped into the room as Mrsha stared up at Pawn. He stared back and waved one of his hands at her. The Gnoll didn’t wave back.

“No, don’t get up Lyonette. I didn’t want to bug you but Pawn’s here and he’s worried. You don’t have to—it’s okay? Okay, Pawn? Come on in.”

Hesitantly, Pawn stepped into the room as Mrsha dropped onto all fours and padded back inside. She crept up next to a young woman sitting with a blanket around her shoulders. Lyonette’s eyes were red and she was holding a wet handkerchief. She looked up at Pawn and tried to smile.

“Hi Pawn.”

“Good morning, Lyonette. I am terribly sorry to bother you. I was worried when I heard you were upset.”

“Thank you, Pawn.”

Erin stood up. She looked at Pawn and Lyonette, wavering.

“I have to get back to work. Lyonette, are you okay?”

The younger girl gave Erin a watery smile.

“I’m fine, Erin. Don’t worry about me, please. I know you have a lot to do.”

“Okay. Pawn? If you want to talk I’ll be in the kitchen later.”

Pawn nodded distractedly as Erin left. He kept staring at Lyonette. She was still crying. Tears ran from the sides of her eyes and she kept dabbing at them. Mrsha curled up next to her. Pawn had no idea what to say. At last, he tried to speak.

“I am sorry to bother you, Lyonette. I could come back later if you do not wish to talk.”

“It’s fine, Pawn. I didn’t want to make you worry. I’m just—having a bad day, that’s all.”

“Oh.”

What a wholly unsatisfactory response. Pawn searched for good words and found none. He almost regretted coming upstairs, to be honest. What could he say? He shouldn’t have bothered her. And yet—it was Lyonette. His friend. Was she his friend? He thought she must be.

She had been there when he first started to lead the Soldiers. She had taught him how to act, how to stand tall. She had fed them. And now she was crying and he had no idea why. He hadn’t known. That made Pawn’s chest hurt.

“May I ask why you are upset?”

Lyonette sniffed. She looked away.

“It’s…personal.”

“Oh. I see.”

Crestfallen, the Worker looked down at his feet. He was still wet. He should go. But he didn’t move. After a moment Lyonette looked up at him and sniffed again.

“It’s not that I don’t want to say. It’s just—it shouldn’t matter but it does. I lost it, Pawn.”

“Lost? What?”

“My class.”

Tears trickled down Lyonette’s cheeks. Pawn stared at her. She couldn’t mean her [Barmaid] class. If she was crying, then—

“You lost your [Princess] class?”

Lyonette nodded. Pawn was stunned.

“How?”

The young woman shook her head.

“I must have stopped being a princess. At last. I should have known it would happen. I work at an inn as a [Barmaid]. I’m far from my kingdom. I—I should have known. And it shouldn’t matter.”

She sniffed and Mrsha reached up to pat her leg. Lyonette gently stroked Mrsha’s head. Pawn felt like an outsider. He should not be here. And he had no idea what to say. She had lost her class.

“You should have it back. I will pray for your class to return.”

Lyonette blinked. She stared at Pawn and then laughed. It was a weak sound and there was nothing funny in the way she laughed.

“What? No. Don’t do that. It’s fine, Pawn.”

“But your class—”

Pawn didn’t know what to say. Lyonette was a [Princess]. She was…royalty. As close to his Queen as anything in this world. He knew that was not the same, but it was how he understood her class. It made Lyonette important. How could she not be sad? But Lyonette didn’t seem to see it that way. She cast around.

“You should sit. There’s a chair over there.”

“I will take it. Thank you.”

Awkwardly, Pawn pulled the chair over and sat. He was still higher up than Lyonette and he found himself looking down at her. She sat up and he waited.

“It’s not a big deal, Pawn. I shouldn’t be crying. I shouldn’t. I lost my class because I wasn’t doing [Princess]-like things. That’s all. But I don’t need the class. I was only—only Level 6 anyways.”

“But it was your class.”

“I know. But I haven’t been feeling like a princess in a while. I think I knew it. That’s why I lost my class. And it’s not like I need it.”

“But—”

Pawn didn’t know what to say. He trailed off, staring at Lyonette. Tears flowed down her face and her nose was wet. She wiped it, looking embarrassed and Pawn looked away.

“Surely it was important, though. You are a [Princess]. Were. Was that class not important to you?”

“It was. But I lost it, Pawn.”

Lyonette whispered. She shook her head. Pawn realized he was repeating himself. After a while, he spoke.

“What was it like?”

“What?”

“Living as a princess.”

Lyonette looked up at him. Pawn saw Mrsha raise her head. She smiled sadly.

“What was it like? Being a [Princess] was—well, it was nice at times. I loved the balls and dancing and exciting things that came to court. And travelling wherever I wanted in the kingdom. Having money to buy whatever clothing I wanted. But I wasn’t happy. I never leveled. And when I came here, I gave all that up. So I traded being a [Princess] for actually leveling. That’s why—”

She broke off and sniffed, then blew her nose wetly into the handkerchief. Pawn waited. He was confused.

“Balls? Dancing? Why can you not do any of that here?”

“There aren’t any. No one knows I’m a [Princess].”

“But Mrsha has a ball.”

Pawn pointed at it. Lyonette stared and then laughed abruptly.

“Pawn, that’s not the same! A ball is a formal occasion. It’s where we dress up in fancy clothing and dance in a big open space. It’s not like anything Liscor has. It’s another world. A different world. I left it behind.”

“Which is why you lost your class.”

“Yes. Do you understand?”

He thought he did. It was just that he didn’t understand why Lyonette didn’t want her class back. Pawn mulled it over before he decided he had to ask.

“Why don’t you want it back?”

“Why? Because it’s gone. Because it doesn’t matter.”

“But it was your class. Surely you had Skills—”

“Two. Two, Pawn. And they weren’t that useful. They were—useless. Like my class. It’s gone and I’ll be better. I just need to cry. I don’t know why I’m crying. I should be okay. I just need a day. Then I’ll be better.”

“I see.”

Was that it? Pawn fumbled, searching for something else to say. There had to be something he could say that would make Lyonette feel better. Or—or help her.

“You’re sure you don’t want your class back? I could pray. I could.”

Lyonette laughed weakly.

“I’m sure! Pawn, I appreciate it but all I want is to be alone for a while. I’m glad you came by, I really am. But I just need to be alone.”

“I understand. I will excuse myself. Please forgive me for interrupting you.”

Pawn stood up at once. He felt embarrassed and bad. Lyonette looked up, worried.

“No, I’m not angry! Thank you for coming. It’s just—”

She waved a helpless hand. Pawn nodded.

“I will pray you feel better.”

“Thanks.”

Lyonette smiled at him. Pawn raised his mandibles and turned towards the door. He walked out, feeling helpless. Upset. Lyonette had lost her class. But she didn’t want it back. That seemed wrong.

Downstairs Erin asked if Lyonette was okay. When Pawn told her she wanted to be alone Erin nodded and offered to talk with Pawn about his problems. He declined. He wandered back to the Hive, feeling out of sorts. When he got back he tried to pray. But he couldn’t. Lyonette’s tears kept falling in his mind. She had lost her class. That was terrible. What could he do about it? Pray?

It didn’t feel like enough. And that was strange too. Pawn paced, anxiously. He felt helpless and upset and worried. What could he do? After a while he stopped and clasped his hands in prayer.

—-

Pawn had gone. Pawn had come back. He had promised to come back with ideas. He had returned with nothing. And now he was pacing. This indicated something was wrong, but neither Yellow Splatters nor Purple Smile knew what the problem was.

Purple Smile and Yellow Splatters were both [Sergeants]. It was a new concept to both Antinium and Yellow Splatters was keenly aware of the cost of failure. He had failed once and his Soldiers had suffered for it. He was anxious not to make another mistake, which was why he listened to everything Pawn said.

Only today, Pawn was saying nothing. Not to him at any rate. He had left the Hive and come back earlier than he had said. Now, rather than tell Yellow Splatters and the others about all the new ideas he had promised he was pacing back and forth. Muttering to himself.

“Surely the class is important. It must be! She was crying. She was upset. But is she better off without it? Surely not. But she says she does not want help.”

Yellow Splatters stared at Pawn as he paced back and forth. Other Antinium were staring too. Pawn’s behavior was not normal and the Workers and Soldiers were all paying attention. Pawn usually went to each of them and talked to them. But today he hadn’t. He hadn’t even noticed the biggest thing ever.

The Soldiers and Workers were still standing around the chessboard. They hadn’t moved since the last game. Ever since Pawn had brought the bigger chessboard the Soldiers had played games against the Workers constantly. They had lost every game. The current tally was four hundred and eighteen wins by the Workers…and now, just now, one win by one of the Soldiers.

That was huge. Yellow Splatters had been waiting for Pawn to come back and see and congratulate the Soldier—a new Painted Soldier named Rabbitears—on the victory. A Soldier had won a game. Won a game of chess!

The losses didn’t matter. But the one win? It changed everything. It meant—it meant Soldiers could be—the possibilities were endless! But Pawn didn’t pay attention to this earth-shattering fact. On any other day he would have been asking questions, perhaps ordering a celebration. Today the [Sergeants] watched as he paced back and forth and muttered.

“What can I do? Can I do anything? No, I should let her grieve. Grieving is a natural thing. Erin told me she will be looked after. But she was crying.”

It occurred to Purple Smile that Pawn would not notice the chess game. He signaled and the Soldiers slowly reset the board. The Soldiers did not feel many emotions. Grief, sadness, happiness…nothing much affected them. But now they felt something like disappointment. Nevertheless, they reset the board and Rabbitears began to play another game with a Worker. Pawn paid no attention.

Yellow Splatters looked sideways at Purple Smile. He pointed with one big hand. Purple Smile shrugged. He had no idea what was happening either. The [Sergeants] watched as Pawn kept pacing. They watched him stop and put his hands together. Was he praying? Why? The Soldiers didn’t know what was wrong, but they didn’t take their eyes off Pawn. They were observing. Listening. Learning.

And Pawn made up his mind. He had to go back tomorrow. To check on Lyonette.

—-

The next day, Pawn waited at dawn in front of the door to The Wandering Inn. As soon as the sun rose high enough for it to be actually daytime and not night still he opened the door. To his relief, the door was connected to Liscor. Pawn stepped in and immediately saw Lyonette.

“Pawn?”

She was setting food out for the Redfang Goblins. Lyonette turned, surprised to see Pawn so early. He stepped into the inn, conscious of the rain on his carapace.

“I am sorry to come so early. Am I interrupting?”

“No, come in. And please close the door. I keep telling Erin we need a doormat—let me get you a towel.”

Lyonette hurried into the kitchen as the five Hobs sitting at their table gave Pawn the fisheye. He ignored them. As soon as Lyonette returned with a fresh towel, Pawn thanked her. He sat at a table near the fire and spoke.

“Are you well, Lyonette? Are you feeling better? I was worried that you might still be in distress.”

“You were? Well, I’m better. I feel fine now. I’m embarrassed about yesterday.”

“You’re…alright?”

Pawn stared at Lyonette hard. She gave him a cheery smile.