Robin stood at the front of the colossus, looking up at Kraag’s head swinging from left to right. At first, Robin believed the erratic movements were a result of pain or distress. While distress was still a possibility, Kraag made it clear he was okay.

  The Speaker could not help himself from reaching out to Kraag from moment to moment to check in, and Kraag’s response was a thud of reassurance, and insisting pressure that the god did not need to be tended to with the aggression the nomads were showing.

  Louise’s Stone Circle shamans dotted the turtle’s shell, coaxing the oozing wound closed. Safety of the god was foremost, but just beneath that was the threat his molten blood posed to the camps below.

  “Do you know who has done this?”

  Kraag’s response was a sorrow filled affirmative.

  “Do I know who has done this?”

  An incredulous negative. Curiosity about how that would even be possible.

  “Well, you don’t have to be rude, Kraag,” Robin replied.

  “Is he okay?” Louise asked as she approached Robin from where the shamans worked. Behind her, at the base of a small gnoll, the other empathetic masters looked on with concern.

  “He says he’s fine,” Robin replied. “I don’t believe him for a second, but he’s really worried about the one that did this. I’m trying to get him to tell me who, but he’s being coy about it.”

  Louise turned to the god and sighed. “With all due respect, you can not let him do that. Our elder god was just attacked. The horizon is on fire. The most populated city on Talnor is at our back. Now is not the time to indulge his playful spirit.”

  “I understand. But even if I get stern, he may just be stressed. Can we send a runner?”

  “Some have already volunteered themselves and set out,” Louise said. The woman took a breath. “Allow me to say, keeping him this calm so far? It’s impressive.”

  “Thank you, Louise. That means a lot.”

  Robin twitched when a wave of impatience struck him. Kraag’s head swung toward him, the eyes of the god twinkling. Kraag was in a hurry. The window to act was closing, it seemed.

  “Why do we have to act quickly? Are you in danger?”

  Affirmative, but more than that. There was worry. Kraag was generally worried about the world, but that worry was punctuated by concern for a specific person. A friend that he looked up to and believed in that was headed down a bad road.

  “Is that person you worry about the one that did this?”

  Kraag’s answer was an apologetic yes.

  “Who is he worried about?” Louise asked.

  “No idea. And he still won’t share. He wants to keep them safe.”

  “Stubborn fool,” Louise muttered.

  “Louise, Robin!” Yanni called from the bottom of the gnoll. When the pair looked down to him, they saw two additional figures. “The runners are back!”

  Walking down to meet them chilled Robin. One looked perfectly okay, but the other, his arm around the first’s shoulders, was barely standing. His light clothing was filled with holes that were charred around the edges. Exposed burns dotted his body. Both were covered in a layer of soot.

  “Speaker, chiefs,” the safer of the pair said with a bow of the head.

  “Let him lie down,” Anya ordered. “I will see if I can soothe the burns.” The woman in silken garb uncorked a ceramic vial she kept tied to her hip and began magically working its contents.

  “What did you see?” Louise asked.

  “You’re not gonna believe this,” the runner replied. “That’s one person up there,” he said, gesturing to the pillar of smoke and flame. “A woman.”

  “Did you recognize her?”

  “Not at all. Earth nomad, though. There were some traces of their camp. Most of it was broken land and lava, though.”

  “She broke the ground?” Louise asked, equal parts impressed and horrified.

  “Shattered it,” the runner lying down forced himself to say. “And is still shattering it right now.”

  “Yeah, the wounds were from an explosion that almost killed us.”

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  “No more runners,” Yanni ordered.

  Kraag’s agreement came at Robin from behind. The speaker turned to face him.

  “We’re not just going to let this woman stomp around ripping up the ground wherever she wants.”

  Kraag was regretful. The regret that something great had just been missed. Then came pleading. Kraag was nearly begging for Robin to not react rashly. Whoever this person was, Kraag was behind her.

  “It’s not too late,” boomed a female voice. “Robin Pluck, Speaker for Kraag, you have been nominated for Talnorel’s Alliance.”

  The sudden shout surprised everyone, even the wounded runner raised his head to look for the source. Where there had once been an open field with rolling hills, Robin and his allies were looking at a small cottage with thick, old trees dotting its well kept yard. Brilliant flowers bloomed all over the house.

  The house was not one of this world, but more like one from a story book, or one imagined by a child. It’s edges were beveled, and it curved and bowed in strange, but cute ways. It appeared as though it were illustrated into reality.

  A woman stood halfway between the house and Robin, her small frame swelled by the volume of clothing she wore. She carried a modest walking stick in her right hand, and her left was held out to Robin.

  “You can’t take him. He is busy.” Louise’s response was completely devoid of emotion. Robin, for a moment, wondered if she even found the scene strange at all.

  The old woman waved off Louise’s protest. “Not your choice. Not even mine! It’s all on him.” She nodded up in Kraag’s direction. Her voice this time was far quieter than her first remarks.

  Robin turned to look at his god, and was answered with an insistence and a call to trust, not just Kraag, but the old woman as well.

  “Who are you?” Yanni asked for Robin.

  “My name is Corrine and I’m inviting Robin to dinner, not you.” She looked back in Robin’s direction. “Now hurry up. We still have several guests to gather before we can begin talking.”

  “About what?” Robin asked her.

  “How to fix this.” With that, Corrine turned back toward the cottage and began walking with speed and posture that belied her older appearance. “Let’s go, now, Robin.”

  Robin looked back at Anya, Louise, and Yanni.

  “If she is truly gathering Talnorel’s Alliance,” Yanni began and Anya got back to work, healing the runner.

  “Then you must follow her,” Louise said, finishing his thought. “You speak for Kraag in all respects. Including the alliance.”

  “I don’t know if I’m ready for that, though,” Robin replied.

  “Well, you certainly aren’t ready for her,” the standing runner said, swinging his head to the calamity on the horizon. “None of us are. You may as well get a good meal beforehand.”

  Louise frowned, pursing her lips harshly at the scout’s words. She turned to look at Robin. “He is right.”

  “Fine,” Robin said, raising his hands in surrender. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He looked up to Kraag. “Keep everyone safe, okay?”

  Kraag’s response was acknowledging, but distracted.

  Robin gave a gentle, unconfident nod before walking toward the cottage. Corrine had already entered but left the door open.

  With a pause of apprehension, Robin stepped into the cottage. There was a difference in sensation across the threshold. Robin would never be able to put his finger on precisely what it was. Maybe air pressure? Or just the strong aroma blending pot pourri and the fragrance of a meal being prepared elsewhere in the small house.

  “Shut the door! And just stay in the parlour with the other guests until the table is set!” Corrine’s command came from deeper in the house. Robin looked around to see that the front door opened right into a cluttered sitting room.

  He shut the door behind him while he took in the sights. Knickknacks and trophies covered numerous shelves and tables. The only thing the items had in common was that they all looked ancient, but maintained. Despite the fact the items were not broken or out of repair, they all did have the thinnest layer of dust on them. Robin found the dust served more to prove this home was well enjoyed than any implication that Corrine was messy. In fact, it spoke somewhat to Corrine’s hospitality. Guests were such a part of her life that she did not need to impress them with cleanliness.

  “Um, hello,” a small voice called out to him.

  Robin, startled, snapped his head in the direction of one of the massive arm chairs. A small priestess of the Church of the Will was seated on the edge of it, knitting needles in hand.

  “Uh, hi.”

  “I’m Maribel,” she said. “And before we all get too friendly, I should admit that this may be all my fault.”

  “What did I tell you?” another voice asked. Robin had not noticed the woman standing at the far end of the room, her back to him. Her rustic, cotton clothes were a perfect compliment to the homey aesthetic of the cottage. With the tall, polished wood staff in her hand, she could have passed as a full coat rack, easily.

  She turned to look at Robin with a matronly grin. “It’s nice to meet you, Robin. I’m glad to see Kraag has a speaker. You can call me Chief Maplegrove.”

  “As in Chief of the Druids?” Robin asked, dumbfounded.

  “That’s right. You and I will be representing our elder gods during this conference.”

  “Conference? For what?”

  “To stop Kaitlyn Carpenter from becoming a second Dorvan, the Wroth. Corrine and Maribel will explain what they know and understand over dinner. We still need a few more representatives, though.”

  “Which?” Robin asked, looking around for more people hiding around the room.

  “Maribel here has been nominated as the mortal for Gold magic. And you represent Kraag, and I Talnorel. So, we still need the mortal representatives for Green, Red, and Blue magics. Then the representatives for the Predator and the Dreamer.”

  “This,” Robin said, looking at the floor. “This is serious, huh?”

  “Extremely,” Maribel responded.

  “Damn. I am…” Robin blinked, hoping he would close his eyes and open them in another location entirely. “I am not ready for this.”

  “None of us are,” Corrine responded, appearing suddenly behind him from a doorway into what looked like a half-readied dining room. “The meal is almost ready. Feel free to move into the dining room. Excuse me for a moment while I get the next set of guests.”

  “Where are they?” Chief Maplegrove asked.

  Corrine smiled. “Your son is safe in the presence of a goddess in a mansion on the Throne. Let me get him now.” And with that, the goddess of magic opened her front door.

  The door opened to a well decorated parlor, but the atmosphere in the room felt tense. “You don’t know who you are and that’s the problem,” they heard a stern female voice declare. The door shut behind Corrine and there was silence.