Three days of travel exhausted everyone. It had been hard going up and down foothills on rough trails. All the blessings of Western off-worlder petered out leaving behind mountain trails. They’d spoken little to each other. The exhaustion from elevation changes taking over. The positions cramped on a horse or even when taking a turn walking grew incredibly monotonous. However, they pulled up short and decided to stop at lunch. From information in the previous town, everyone heard about avoiding going through a certain stretch of road any time except during specific hours of the morning. While they’d gotten different reasons about why not to, the road becomes quicksand, you shrink into a frog, everyone falls in love with one another unexplainably, the sheer consistency of the only safe time to go through the road had convinced them.

  An obvious stopping area complete with leftover firewood and a solid stone ring for a fireplace convinced them immediately to take up their opportunity to stop for the day. The flatted space had a large cover of half eaten grass, mud paths pointing out the river, and a prescribed latrine in the opposite direction fully dug out and banked to avoid the smell getting into the rest area. Even after slowly setting up camp and taking their time about lunch the afternoon stretched out ahead of them long and not filled with any useful other travelers, magic, or attack. The sudden shift from active to inactive left most of them restless.

  Everyone had been pretending to do a worthwhile endeavor. Kriti tossed around her pots and pans like she might start a complicated dish five hours ahead. Laural bumbled around with the horses already picketed, fed, patted down, and brushed. Spoon poked at the fire with a stick that slowly started catching fire. Nettle read a book that he’d been making various displeased hisses, tsks, and groans at. Day opposite of Spoon threw various leaves and trash into the fire. The fire made a popping noise as it ate through the quick burning leaf litter.

  Bodi alone couldn’t find an excuse to do anything. So far looping the perimeter of the area several times, finding no indication of danger, and going back to the river and latrine two or three times to see if he could improve these locations, looped back into the group and standing over the three sitting at the fire hadn’t been enough.

  “So, anybody want to start a fight?” Bodi glanced around with interest.

  “Verbal or physical?” Day rubbed her forehead. “Because I’ll take my leave if it’s the former.”

  Bodi grinned showing his big incisors. “Physical please. We can argue any time.”

  “I don’t want to be involved in a training montage.” Kriti pointed put a pot of water over the fire.

  “I doubt we’d seek too much trouble of the cook,” pointed out Day with a forgiving smile to take out the sting.

  Right, they don’t need assassinations out here. As most traveling assassins would have little to no work unless they’d been heading towards a target. They did need a good meal though.

  “I can defend myself,” she argued deciding that instead of admitting she’d made a mistake because she was so bored and maybe wanted to kill a few of them. She should keep her abilities to herself. Or, present it as a protection capability!

  She got her crossbow from her buckboard. It was hard to make letting them see the weapon ultra-casual. Showing off the weapon with only a tad bit of concealed pride had to be the best approach.

  Laural, Spoon, and Nettle took turns fiddling with it by checking the various mechanisms and draw weights. Bodi glowered at them. Watching people staring at weapons was still not entertaining him.

  Day shuffled back from the hidden depths of inside the cart.

  “Think fast!” Spoon went for the Day with a lazy open hand swipe, clearly thinking her the weak link, but she dodged the fake blow and backed away. “Hey, I don’t need any practice thanks, I’m out.”

  He let her sit down back at the fire with Bodi.

  To Laural’s surprise, Nettle tossed down his cloak and stood up. Magic users as a whole tended towards ranged attacks. Tossing whatever power they had over the head of their allies with a cocky grin, only to flee if their front line of lesser species crumbled before them. Immortals took their lives very seriously, but under the big cloak of the day, he wore tight fitting clothing.

  “I’ll put you through your paces and won’t even break a sweat.”

  “What you plan to hit me in the back or just waste my time?” demanded Spoon.

  “Hah!” The magic user charged Spoon and too everyone’s surprise appeared to be increasing speed at an alarming rate, he bowled into an unprepared Spoon with a faint crackle of neon green magic around his heels nobody saw. Spoon tumbled to the ground, while finally curious Kriti turned on him. She drew up her crossbows rapidly loads it with blunted arrows and fired at him. The Fae tossed the bolt aside.

  “I’m certainly glad I hired you for your cooking skill, because your aim is terrible.”

  Kriti huffed. Her aim was not terrible at all, and she knew he’d somehow magically interfered with them.

  “Let’s try again with silver tips.”

  Nettle gave her a wink before suddenly turning onto his hostler. He waved from his knuckles a come at me, which she took with vicious glee. A chance to beat in his smarmy arrogant face fit her just fine. She picked up the whip, although she only occasionally used it before in training, making the sound of the crack or because she’d been learning from a different trainer. She never intentionally used it on anything to cause harm. Ropes and whips were the best she had, although she’d once had a different whip that functioned a whole lot better, she’d been forced to sell it a long time ago. Now she was stuck with a very small mostly useless length of rope that most none magic whips were.

  She flickered it at him. Nettle dodged and as he focused on it, clearly planning to disarm her, she stepped in towards him. Even unprepared for her and distracted, her fist felt a light pressure turned away and her punch which had plenty of mucking stalls behind it, flew wide of his chest harmlessly.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  Nettle produced a fine, blunted skinning knife and playfully pointed it towards her throat. Clearly showing that he could have struck back and killed her right away. He might be a fairy, but he’d not been joking about breaking a sweat. She backed away, giving an annoyed but earned head bob to his skills.

  He smiled triumphantly. “Good thing I didn’t hire most of you for power in physical arenas. I see I’m the only one worthwhile when it comes to a proper scuffle.”

  It was true he’d bested them all, but none had been aware or prepared. Laural could do so much more with a magic whip. Now that they were outside in the wilderness, they should all be more prepared.

  “That’s unaccountably impressive,” Spoon admitted. But to himself he thought, and this is exactly why I’m here in the first place. A Fae that gets his hands dirty, one that will run out front, those can be very dangerous ones, but also very at risk ones.

  Bodi got up. He stomped his feet and grunted.

  They stared at him like he’d made out a war scream.

  “Are you taking the challenge, guard?” Nettle said it with a sneer. “You know I chose you because you will deter dimmer people looking, not because I expected someone like you to be of value.”

  Bodi nodded. “I know why you picked me. Because you do not know anything about orcs.”

  “Oh?” The Fae was ever confident in his place in the world. “Perhaps I know more than you think. You don’t even read. There are things I know you’ve never even heard about.”

  Bodi stomped over then, his eyes were narrowed but it was in preparation. Complete focus on his target. Kriti recognized Bodi’s shift. He now had a self-assigned job to do. Curious.

  Nettle threw a jab in a poor faint. Bodi twitched but did not take the opening. Ignored the blow, closing the distance, the Fae swung and it landed. But it did literally nothing. Just a gnat biting the horse’s flank.

  The Nettle’s eyes goggled into mug size. Bodi, in a perfect imitation of what he did earlier, gave the come at me again single. And nothing whatsoever worked. The fairy was just punching into a wall and Bodi watched him with focused eyes, noting each movement. Assessing each thing.

  Bodi reached out a hand and plodded it onto the Fae’s shoulder. Nettle turned as pale as whisp white floating hair which dropped ever so slightly. “How exactly?”

  Bodi turned up his lower under teeth into a very wry grin. “There are things I know you’ve never even heard about. But your magic, very clever format of kinetic kinesis. Were you blessed by a diet deity?”

  The Nettle turned to look at the hand sitting on his shoulder, just resting there. He inspected the hand before, turned back more blandly. “My family taught me actually.”

  Bodi grunted. “Who taught you to read?”

  “Family education. In my childhood. We all go.”

  Bodi grunted and removed his hand. “I will tell you how to defeat me if you teach me to read.”

  Nettle stumbled backwards and back into the safe ground of negotiation. He shook himself. The color returned to his face. “Why don’t I pay you a bonus instead? A bitcoin to explain what exactly you just did.”

  Bodi scowled and turned away, slightly hunching his shoulders.

  “It is not that type of thing. I only trade knowledge for knowledge.”

  The Nettle hesitated. He’d not meant it as an insult. By the dejected orc’s expression, he’d recognized the error.

  “My apologies, I am more used to the money grubbing ways of others.” He drew himself up tall, nodding to get his white hair comfortably back in place. “I’ve made a fool of myself by rejecting your offer. I will teach you to read for nothing, as it should be. All knowledge should be freely given to those who ask.”

  Bodi stopped and turned. “Kinesis is worthless if you can break the force before the strike. You should carry tokens too. More than real steel.”

  The Nettle bowed and titled his head a tiny inch. “You were correct. I do not know who I hired.”

  Bodi shrugged. “You see us all as taking from you, so you stop seeing other things. Long-lived species are easily toppled by the hate they themselves choose to create.”

  Then Bodi went off into the night. The whole group stared after him.

  “He can counter magic?” asked Spoon confused. “Does anyone know anything about Bodi?”

  The elf hostler grunted. “I’ve met him right before everyone else. He was riding with a temporary possession posse then. The newest member of the group. They made him do all the work. None of them knew him well.”

  “He has an accent.” This shocked everyone except Laural, and they all glanced at the human woman. “I know most of you can’t tell it with the orc rich voice, but it’s quite apparent if you know your languages. He probably spent the least amount of time here as any of us.”

  “Can you place the region?” asked Spoon.

  “Why do you want to know?” demanded the Nettle. “You should ask him yourself instead of prying into his past without him here. It’s rude.”

  Spoon scowled at back him. “Fine. I will!”

  He glowered at Bodi. “I know the truth.”

  “Which is?”

  “You’re a child. The rest of these idiots don’t know anything about interspecies interaction and aging. But I have a tiny fraction of ancestorial orc blood. You’re barely an adolescent and have no place acting as a security member or putting your life in harms way! You should be at home with your parents.”

  Bodi jutted out his jaw. “I went through an entire coo coup. Dove Chosen One’s are no joke. Managing one little Fae boy doesn’t sound too bad.”

  Spoon winced. “You can’t even tell Nettle’s age?”

  “The rest of them can’t tell my age!”

  “Nettle is middle-aged immortal. Anyway, orc younglings are uncharsticially old looking. That’s why so many of your villages get wiped out. They don’t quite realize it’s everyone and think it’s always a damned war party. Also tends to lead to orcs behaving foolishly being an adult stereotype.”

  He jutted out his twin teeth. “Are you going to tell anyone?”

  “Not if you’ll comply.”

  “Comply with what?”

  “You’ll do what I say when I say it.”

  “No, I won’t!”

  “Then I’ll go to the nearest lawyer and get your contract thrown away.”

  “Child labor laws don’t exist yet.”

  “Then,” Spoon shifted from the legal route, “I’m telling them all their profiting off child labor and need to fetch you a custodian immediately. You know they’re weird enough. They might try it. Protecting teenagers instead of yeeting them into war.”

  “Look. What do you even really want?”

  “For Nettle to not end up dead!”

  “That’s it?” Bodi laughed. “I’m literally already doing that. It’s fine. I’ll look after him. Not just for the contract. He’s a decent boss. Except when he complains I should watch stuff more than keeping people alive. But he thinks he’s invincible so that makes sense. Why are you making this all weird? Everyone wants Nettle to stay alive.”

  “Not everyone.”

  “Laural told me she’d going good.”

  Spoon snapped his attention back to Bodi. “Why do you think it’s Laural?”

  “Because she gets her debt cleared if he dies?”

  “Oh, wait what debt?”

  Bodi explained the horse theft and then frowned at Spoon. “Everyone thinks you want to kill Nettle. Be more relaxed alright? Maybe try being more friendly.”

  Bodi patted Spoon on the shoulder before leaving.

  Leave it to an orc to make protecting someone even harder. And Spoon was very, very worried. That orc could pop off Nettle head off and now would be running around reading books together like two halves of a potion mixed together. It was dangerous, a great danger that he could barely put his finger on. And Laural could tell a horse to break Nettle’s fool neck in a “fall”. How does one protect against that? Spoon had also concluded nearly all of them were deeply dangerous. And he didn’t even have a plan to deal with any of them yet. He couldn’t trust the word of a young orc, nor any of the others. Nettle definitely had enemies trying to kill him. Just which ones?