Tom sighed. Shit, that was a lot of hostility. He hated having to pretend that he treated "his" elves poorly, but it was the only way to get the angry guards on his side. It might save one of the elves' lives down the line, but it still left him feeling somewhat slimy.

He drove the lead wagon up the main road and turned to the right at the second cross street, as instructed. Diavla kept checking for him that Kervan was following without trouble. Let's see, it's supposed to be about halfway to the town wall from here... He drove the cart slowly, looking around at the town and watching for the shop the guard had mentioned.

He pulled the reins, bringing them to a halt. He could see two—no, three shops that fit the description. He held up a pair of coppers and looked for an urchin, and sure enough one was following the wagons hopefully. She darted forward and held out her cupped hands.

"I'm looking for Anna Houser. The guard said she was in one of these shops." The little girl pointed eagerly to the middle one. "Thank you very kindly, young lady." He handed her the coppers, and she grinned. Then she looked at Diavla, and her face fell.

It was an odd look—not big surprise, not hate, not terror, but...mounting dread, maybe? Then she bolted and vanished down an alley before Tom could ask her about it. Why would a street urchin be afraid of an elf?

Tom looked at Diavla and raised an eyebrow. "Girl did look at you and was scared," he said in Elvish.

Diavla looked thoughtful. "No. She looked at this, and was scared." She pointed at her collar.

Huh. Tom tucked that away in his soul for the moment. They had to get lodgings, first thing. He needed to get the elves out of the street as soon as possible.

He wondered about the building owner, and how to approach her. It was going to be a tricky balancing act. Anna Houser sounded like she might be a nice person, based on how annoyed the guards seemed to be with her, and he would have to decide whether to reveal to her that he wasn't as bad as he pretended.

They stopped the wagons across the street from the shop, and Tom got down alone to check it out. The road was somewhat busy with people coming home from their day's labor. When he pushed on the door to the shop, a pair of bells jingled, playing a two-note chord. That's cute, he thought absently.

"Welcome, sir. May I help you?" The speaker was a woman of average build with blond hair starting to shade into gray. She had a smile that felt a bit warmer and more honest than the usual professional face all shopkeepers learned.

"Good evening. Anna Houser?"

"That's me."

"I'm Tom Walker. I'm looking for lodgings for several people. There are..." Tom counted on his fingers, "five of us now, with five more hopefully joining us in a few days."

"Certainly, sir. I have rooms for rent to house that many together. How long will you be staying?"

"Well, at least the few days, likely a few more after that. Sorry to be uncertain."

"That's no problem, sir. Many people are, and life is full of surprises." So far, the woman seemed very agreeable.

"I do need to tell you one thing about my group. The guards said it wouldn't be a problem for you. I hope it isn't."

Miss Hauser's expression cooled a bit. "Yes?"

"My companions are all elves."

Hauser's eyebrows went up. "All of them?"

"Yes."

"That is...unusual..." The woman's expression grew wary. "Do they have special needs?"

Tom nodded. "One of them is sickly, and is...a bit overly fearful of spreading her illness. She will want her room to get a thorough cleaning after we leave."

"A cough?"

"No. It only spreads by touch, and she is always bundled up and veiled outside of her room."

"It sounds as if you take proper precautions."

Tom nodded. "That and more. She insists upon it."

"Thank you for warning me in advance. I believe I can still offer you lodgings."

"Do you have a safe space for two wagons and their oxen? I am a merchant and will be selling my wares over the next few days."

Abruptly, the woman's expression became chilly. "Would those 'wares' include the elves?"

"They would not," Tom said firmly. "They are not for sale. We are...traveling south together."

"I see." Hauser still looked suspicious. "And how will you be treating your elves?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Will there be...punishments...that might disturb the neighbors? Blood on the floor? Other—?"

"No! Gods, no. Nothing like...um." Tom abruptly thought about the noises he and Diavla made possibly disturbing the neighbors. He felt his face heat. "We might be...a little loud at night, but..."

Hauser's expression thawed visibly as he spoke, and then her eyebrows went up at the end. "Really?"

"Um...would you care to speak alone with my...with Diavla? She's right outside."

"I would, please."

"One moment."

Tom hurried out and across the street. The elves were getting a few stares but no serious harassment yet. "Diavla, Anna Hauser ask talk with you." He shrugged. "Like Miranda, I think."

Diavla smiled in understanding and climbed down from the wagon at once. Tom escorted her across the street and into the shop, then nodded to Hauser and retreated to watch the wagons and the other elves.

A few minutes later she was waving to him from the doorway, and Tom went back in to close the deal.

"I am sorry for the prying questions, Mr. Walker."

"I respect you for them, ma'am," Tom said quietly.

"Diavla also explained the face you will present to the town versus how you act in private."

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"Good. Your discretion with this matter would be appreciated."

"Of course." Anna Houser's demeanor became brisk. "You said storage for two wagons, I think? I do have space in a carriage house, though the animals will need to be stabled separately."

"That will be fine. I just would rather not have to stand watches to guard our property while in town."

They dickered briefly, then settled upon twenty-five silver for a four day stay, meals not included. Houser closed up her shop to show them around. She tsked when she saw Arven's' injuries. "I heard about that this morning. I'm sorry for your poor treatment, Mister Arven." Unable to speak easily, especially in Western, Arven simply nodded.

Hauser led them to the carriage house first, where they stowed the wagons, taking some of their packs with them. The landlady looked on as Eubexa attempted to convince Tom to let her walk, but he insisted on carrying her. "You need to rest that foot and heal as best you can. Besides, this is quicker. I want to get us settled and find some dinner, I'm starving."

"Yes, Tom."

Houser led them from the carriage house to the stable, dropping off the oxen, and finally to a large house. It was squeezed in, sharing stone walls with its neighbors, though the rest of the building was wood. Tom recalled something from his time as a guard in Peter's Crossing. Oh, right, the stone walls divide them up in case of fire.

Inside, it was clean, with enough space for the ten of them to live comfortably in the short term. There was a kitchen, a washroom, and enough fireplaces to keep the building warm in winter. Everything seemed to be in good repair, and firewood was stacked already in a bin.

"This will do very nicely. Thank you, Miss Houser." Tom handed the woman two large and five small silvers, and received three keys in exchange. "Oh, is there a tavern that would serve elves around here?"

Houser frowned. "In normal times, I would say the Wandering Ax. But things have been getting very tense in town recently. It might be wise to keep your elves out of sight as much as possible."

Tom nodded slowly. "Understood. Any particular reason? I couldn't get much out of the guards, but things did seem tense, as you say."

Houser shrugged. "I don't know of one. Perhaps some people simply had bad luck this week?"

"Hm. Well, thank you for the warning."

"I appreciate your business. Enjoy your stay." The older woman bowed her head and left.

The moment the door closed, Kervan started filling the fireplace. "Diavla, (something) you (something something)?" Diavla immediately went over and knelt at the hearth, closing her eyes and holding her palms out towards the logs.

Tom understood what he must have said, but when Eubexa didn't translate, he turned to her. "Eubexa?" The sickly elf simply stood there. With the veil, Tom had no idea what she was looking at or paying attention to. "Eubexa?"

She turned slightly to face him. "Hm? Oh. Yes...Tom?" He noticed that she still had to pause often to keep herself from calling him Master.

"I was wondering exactly what Kervan said."

"Oh. Um, Kervan, would you repeat it please?" He did, and she nodded. "Thank you. Tom, the closest translation would be, 'would you like the honor?'"

"That's about what I thought. Is something wrong, Eubexa?"

The veiled elf shifted, almost nervously. "Mmm. Oh, it's just...a guess. A flight of fancy, really."

Tom raised an eyebrow. Eubexa didn't often volunteer very much of her own sentiments—outside of magic lessons, at least. "Go on."

"Well...if there is a sudden increase in anger and hostility in town, might that suggest the presence of a demon of Rage or Hate?"

The thought clicked into place in Tom's soul with a shiver. He grimaced. "That makes sense, unfortunately. But isn't it a bit early for there to be much spread from a demon that headed this way?"

"Humans don't have much resistance. In some cases, possession might be almost immediate. And...if I were a demon—of hate, that is—the first people I would want to infect would be the town guard."

Tom laced his fingers behind his head and stared at the ceiling a moment, thinking. "You have a point. I was going to check in with the Temple and the Keep in the morning, but perhaps I should go right away. A messenger should have brought the news already, but the faster the town gets precautions in place the better."

"Perhaps the Temple tonight, and the Keep in the morning?" Eubexa suggested.

"Good idea." He looked at the others. "Do you have what you need to make dinner here? Or should I get some more bags from the wagons?" Eubexa translated the questions into Elvish. Kervan poked in the packs for a few moments.

"We have what we need for tonight," the blond elf reported.

"Good." Tom looked at Diavla, kneeling with her eyes closed. He knew he shouldn't disturb her, but felt a bit mischievous. He stepped closer, went down on one knee beside her, and leaned in. He whispered in her delicate pointed ear, "hey, sexy."

There was a flash and a roar from the fireplace as the wood caught all at once. The elves jumped and Tom laughed. Jolted from her trance, Diavla turned and punched him hard on the shoulder, but she was not quite able to hide a grin. She growled something in Elvish that sounded uncomplimentary as she shook and flexed her hand after the impact.

"I go to Temple," he told her. "Maybe I go to tavern for dinner and I ask questions. You all eat here."

"Be careful," she told him in Western.

Tom kissed her. "Be safe."

"Safe, you say," she mocked, gesturing at the lively fire without looking away from him. Tom grinned.

"You are amazing," he whispered, and kissed her again before standing. He backed up and made room as the elves all crowded closer to the fireplace for warmth.

Tom set two keys on the table and kept the third, then walked to the door, adjusting his cloak. He took a moment to look back at Diavla.

I love you, he thought but didn't say. Then, he went out into the deepening dusk.

∘ ⛥ ⛯ ⛥ ∘

The Temple of Oak Mill was a sturdy affair at the top of a small rise in the land. It was fairly quiet, since most people would be having dinner at this time of the evening. Tom walked in and placed a small tithe in the offering box, then paid his respects to Barsel in the Room of Altars, before seeking out one of the Temple acolytes.

"Excuse me, may I speak with you a moment?" he asked the woman who seemed to be in charge of the Temple during evening prayers.

"Yes, young man? What is it?"

"I..." Tom paused, unsure how to begin. "The Temple should have received an important update from Rivermarch by messenger a few days ago."

The cleric blinked. "Oh?"

"Yes. You...weren't aware of this?"

"No. Was the message addressed to someone in particular or to the Temple itself?"

"I'm not sure. Possibly addressed specifically to the head of the Temple."

"Oh! That might explain it. High Priest Andual has been sick for the past three days."

Tom blinked. "Even with healing?"

The woman smiled gently. "Healing cannot do everything, especially when the patient is very old."

"Ah." Tom felt a touch embarrassed.

"But if this message is urgent, it should have been marked as such, and then the senior acolyte available would have opened and read it."

Tom frowned. "It should have. May I impose on you and ask you to double check?"

The woman looked at him thoughtfully. "You may. I will look over the mail again. One moment." She walked off through a door leading towards the rear of the Temple.

The moment turned into several minutes. Finally, the priestess returned, clutching a missive to her breast. "Come with me, please." Tom nodded and hurried after her. She led him back to what was likely her personal office, and shut the door.

"Are you aware of the contents of the message?" she demanded, her face no longer cheerful.

"Pretty much." Tom reached up to his neck and pulled out his Amulet of Protection from Demons, showing it to the priestess. "I hope you have a lot of these stashed somewhere."

"We do, but getting them filled with magic is going to be an undertaking. One I wish we had started three days ago when this letter arrived. What terrible timing." The woman stared at nothing for a moment, seeming to age before his eyes. "And they couldn't use the signal stone, because too many people would know right away and they would cause a panic." She shook her head. "Demons. Three of them. Gods preserve us."

"I've been reading about them on the way here. Apparently, demons don't like each other, so they will go in separate directions. Hopefully, you will only have to deal with one demon here."

"One demon is plenty, but thank you." The woman put a hand to her forehead a moment. "I'll have to check the wards on the Temple. They're supposed to be fully active at all times, but it's been so many years since they were last needed..."

"One of my traveling companions pointed out that people in town seem to be...a bit more hostile lately? Particularly the guards. If a demon of Hate or something like that were around, that might be a symptom."

The priestess got a look of panic on her face for a moment, then firmed her resolve. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention."

"I have a copy of Sir Kurt of Briarwood's On Fighting Demons. I could bring it here if you like."

"I...believe we have a copy already. What was your name, young man?"

"Tom Walker, Priestess. I'm staying in a house on Summer Street, rented from Anna Houser."

"Thank you, Mister Walker. Is there anything else of greatest urgency I should know now?"

Tom shook his head. "Nothing that I can think of, they should have told you everything in the letter."

"Then excuse me, please, Mister Walker. It seems I have much to do and not much time to do it."

"Of course. If I can help, please send for me."

"Thank you. Blessings on you and yours."

"Blessings."

Tom left the Temple feeling both tension and relief. At least they know now.

It's going to be a very interesting week in Oak Mill, I suspect.

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