4: Home

At dusk, they withdrew from the clearing to return to the last member of their party.

"Any longer, and I might have worried," Isla called as they neared. She stood before the horses, who grazed in the small meadow just behind. She was dressed the same as most rangers, sporting buckskin trousers, a wool shirt with a leather jerkin, and the pine-green cloak of their order pulled over her shoulders. 

Yet though they wore the same garb, her friend stood apart from their peers. She had an easy, innocent beauty, accentuated by wide acorn eyes and deep chestnut skin. Her close-cropped hair only highlighted the slimness of her neck. Leiyn had often teased Isla for her dainty appearance, but after spending half their lives together, she knew how tough and strong her friend could be when need called for it.

Leiyn smiled and raised her free hand, the other carrying a sling of jackals' tusks. As they came near enough to see in detail in the gray light, her friend's expression turned to a frown, and she tugged at her ear, as she often did when concerned. 

"Maybe I should have worried after all. What happened?"

Leiyn shrugged. "Tusked jackals."

"That explains the stench." Isla stepped closer and set her hands on the bloody tears in Leiyn's sides. Where Tadeo had kept a respectful distance, Isla had no such compunctions. Leiyn endured her probing, knowing she couldn't avoid questions now. She'd never told her friend of her secret shame, nor did she intend to. But they'd been too close for too long to push her away now.

Isla bent over to study the punctures. When she rose, she frowned. "Lucky. They didn't break the skin."

"Yes," Leiyn echoed. "Lucky." 

She didn't look at Tadeo. She often wondered if he knew the truth. If so, her mentor kept his silence, as he always had before.

"We should make camp," he said, walking past them to the horses, carrying a sling with the reeking skins. "We rise early tomorrow."

Isla raised an eyebrow. "Still need to drive the lion north?"

"He's had a busy evening," Leiyn supplied with a wry smile.

Her friend sighed, then nodded. "I should have expected nothing less from you, Firebrand."

She grimaced, repressing an urge to touch the auburn tress that had partly earned her the name, then scowled at Tadeo as he smiled. "Very amusing."

"It is." Isla gave her a consoling pat on the arm. "And descriptive."

Leiyn rolled her eyes, then took the opportunity to greet her horse. Tadeo's mount stood in the way, and she walked warily around the mare. Feral showed Leiyn her teeth as she passed. The two of them had never gotten along, inspiring Leiyn to give the mare her name. Like fat and water, you and I, she thought as she glowered back at Feral.

Her mount didn't whicker as she approached and ran a hand down his muzzle, but she knew he was pleased to see her all the same. "Hey there, Steadfast," she murmured as she scratched behind his ears, making them flick as though flies buzzed around them. "You kept a good watch on Isla, didn't you, old boy?"

The black stallion had always been a source of comfort and strength. Over their five years together, they'd grown close through many sore trials. She couldn't imagine sharing her patrols with a more loyal companion. When she felt as weak and uncertain as she felt then, he lent her silent support.

With one last scratch, she let him return to grazing, then joined her fellow rangers in making camp.

* * *

The next morning saw their return to the battleground. Much as she hated the stench of the beasts—their smell was unimproved by death—Leiyn enjoyed seeing Isla's astonishment at the number they'd overcome. Her satisfaction was short-lived.

"So Tadeo killed six," Isla recounted as they led the skittish horses up the hill past those the thorned lion has slain, "and you only killed five?"

"Seven, actually." Leiyn grinned. "Better count again."

The lion had moved on overnight. Leiyn and Isla deferred to the more experienced lodgemaster as he kneeled in the brush to study the tracks.

"It's a bit trampled," he said without raising his head. "But the lion appears to have gone north as well."

"That's our duty done, then, isn't it?" Leiyn cast a droll smile at the lodgemaster's long-suffering look. "Only joking. How far should we pursue?"

Tadeo rose and gazed northward. Above the trees rose the Silvertusk Sierra, the peaks still capped with snow that would last most of the season. The foothills were ten leagues away from where they stood. Leiyn feared she knew his answer.

"To the foothills," he confirmed a moment later.

Leiyn groaned and shared a look with Isla. Her friend only shrugged.

"What'd you think this was when you signed up?" Isla reminded her. "A sketching opportunity?"

It made Leiyn's hand itch to draw then and there. She shook her head free of the notion. There'd be time enough to note down the lion later.

"Best not waste daylight," she said. "Lead the way, old man."

Tadeo only arched an eyebrow, then pulled Feral after the tracks.

* * *

They reached the foothills late in the afternoon and still didn't see the lion. Didn't like the reception, Leiyn thought as they stared at the tracks going up into the mountain. Here, the trees had thinned and the grass turned yellow from the summer heat. 

"That's as far as we go," Tadeo said as he pulled himself into Feral's saddle. The mare tried to unseat anyone else who mounted her, but she was strangely compliant when it came to the lodgemaster.

Leiyn mounted Steadfast, while Isla followed suit with her roan, Gale. Before the others could get settled, Leiyn pressed her heels into her stallion's sides, propelling him forward.

"Keep up if you can!" she shot over her shoulder before riding out of earshot.

Steadfast took to the exercise at once, surging into motion. Leiyn grinned into the wind and guided him over roots and around trees as the Titan Wilds whirled by. It was rash to run so blindly through dangerous lands, but there was freedom in carelessness, and Leiyn often craved it.

When Steadfast started panting, she slowed him among the trees and waited for the others. They caught up only a few minutes later.

"So much for Tadeo's usual advice," Isla noted drily as Gale sauntered past, more worn than Steadfast. Tadeo's reproach was silent and mild.

Leiyn only grinned.

The rest of the day passed in alternating bouts of teasing conversation and companionable silence. They'd been patrolling together for a long time, since Leiyn and Isla had become apprentices under Tadeo's guidance twelve years before. In that time, he'd been both mentor and father to them, and Leiyn did not doubt he saw them just as much as daughters.

This was her family now. But this time of year, she inevitably thought of the family she'd lost before.

She warded away the melancholic thoughts until the Wilds Lodge rose before them. The sounds of its occupants echoed down the hill. The shouts from sparring in the yard. The calls of victory as a long shot landed on the bow range. The brays and cries of livestock being shepherded in from the nearby meadows. The dinner bell tolling, gathering all the people from their disparate activities into the great hall.

A smile touched Leiyn's lips. The buzzing of the Lodge announced more than anything that she was home.

They came level with the campus, and the rest of the Wilds Lodge emerged into view. It had sprawled in recent years as the rangers' population grew, but the central building, erected nearly fifty years ago, still dominated. Within were the principal rooms for its residents: the great hall, the kitchens, the lodgemaster's quarters, and the stockroom. 

From the original edifice had sprouted wings to house the growing number of occupants. The east wing held the fully inducted rangers like Leiyn. The west, which continued to expand, housed the apprentices and Lodge staff. Several auxiliary rooms had sprung up as requirements became apparent: a tool shed; another shack for the equipment needed in the range and yard; yet another for the gardens; and a barn for the growing herds and flocks to feed all the hungry bellies.

On the south side, the yard was set up for apprentices to learn to fight with a variety of weapons, from knives to swords to spears, with the hope they would eventually master a discipline. Cloaked rangers used it to spar with one another and keep their skills sharp. On the north side, the archery range was also frequented, with a variety of hand-carved targets placed at different heights and distances to test a markswoman's skill. 

Leiyn had often teased Tadeo that the Lodge was far more luxurious than it should be. But no matter how the Lodge expanded, it remained a fortress at its core. A log wall, nine feet tall, encircled the campus. Only two gates, located at the southern and northern points, opened into the Lodge, and each was guarded day and night. It had been well over two decades since any had dared an attack, but even with all the other changes he implemented, and for all his insistence that the natives were now peaceful, Tadeo had never relaxed the watch.

Their small company badly needed baths, and the tusks and pelts required attending. Hurrying through the tasks, Leiyn met up with Tadeo and Isla afterward, wringing droplets from her braid and heading into the great hall. 

As Leiyn opened the door, a wave of sound barreled over her, loud enough to make her wince. The cheery strains of a stringed gourd filled the room, Ranger Yolant once more foisting her talents upon the willing audience. Though some clapped or sang along, chatter rose from every one of the three long tables as well.

In the far corner, the older rangers sat together, while immediately before her, the apprentices were positioned closer to where they'd catch the draft from the doors. Twenty-one strong, the apprentices ranged in age from seven to seventeen, and had just as varied temperaments. But all sat around a long table eating the Lodge's usual hardy fare, and no matter how far or close they were to becoming cloaked, they had in common that this was their home and hearth. Even the rivals among them would watch each other's backs when out in the woods.

Leiyn recognized the current song playing, and the corners of her mouth lifted as Yolant's yodeling became clear:

Oh, Ranger Alan was no great hero

Yet he saved our land and lord

Through luck and chance, he confounded the shamans

And drove back the Gastish horde

But just how did this odd ranger triumph?

Listen and you'll see…

Leiyn grinned, clapped a few times with the others, then noticed a tussle breaking out. She slipped over to the pair of wrestling apprentices and grabbed each by an ear. The boys cried out and released each other to scrabble at her hands.

"Enough, Naél, Camilo!" she warned, and the lads ceased their struggles, their faces flushed. 

"Yes, Ranger," Naél, the more compliant of the two, muttered. Camilo, smaller and meaner, only narrowed his eyes and jerked his head in what might have been a nod.

It wasn't much, but Leiyn freed them and sauntered away. Boys. She didn't know their quarrel and didn't care. Time would bind them closer than brothers, but until then, so long as they didn't disturb her meal or kill each other, it was their problem.

Isla had fetched her a plate of food, and Leiyn flashed a grateful smile as she sat. It was simple fare, as usual; the Lodge might be growing soft, but it was never luxurious. Seared venison. Boiled potatoes. Shelled peas. A small, early peach, still sour judging by its coloring.

Leiyn tucked into it, barely bothering for manners even when Isla rolled her eyes at her. As she ate, the next verse of Yolant's song curled into her ears:

When titans trampled the fields

Did Alan stand and fight?

No, sir! No, ma'am! He fled instead

Made quick for out of sight!

But the Saints above were watching

And they sent luck Alan's way

As he ran, he tripped and slid

Missing the arrow that would've slayed

That arrow just kept going 

And found a shaman's heart

And those titans he commanded

They began to split apart!

The storm hawks flashed, the tortoises stomped,

The river serpents splashed

Then the Gasts fled to where our ranger hid

So away, Alan did dash!

Her attention was snagged by the conversation at the table. Swallowing a particularly tough bite of the deer, Leiyn broke in, "You're talking about the Rache massacre?"

The other rangers at the table turned to her, most bemused. Only Marina, one of the old-timers who had survived more close calls than a woman had a right to, looked exasperated.

"Listen to the yodeler or to us," she said. "Can't do both—or maybe either."

As if in affirmation of her words, Yolant let loose a sudden cry. Leiyn winced.

"Point taken. But come now—what were you saying?"

The killings had occurred while she was still an apprentice, and grisly as they'd been, she'd never been privy to information about them. All she'd learned had been from the hearsay she and Isla had managed to squeeze from the older members of the Lodge.

Tadeo gave her a wary look. "Those who settled in Folly have been seeing trouble of late. Nothing more, Leiyn."

Those. No need to ask who he meant. All kinds of folks settled in Folly, but only a few Gasts. Leiyn wanted to scowl into her food, but she kept her face smooth. The lodgemaster had never approved of her opinions on the matter, so she tried not to express them as often as she could manage.

He doesn't know Gasts, she thought as she pushed around peas on her plate. Not like I do. 

Somehow, her tongue betrayed her, and words slipped out.

"How do you know they're not connected, the Folly Gasts? Maybe you never caught the killers because they never went anywhere."

"Leiyn." It was Isla who spoke warningly now. In this, she'd always sided with Tadeo.

Leiyn found herself rising, plate in hand. She tried to keep her voice level, but her flushed cheeks betrayed her. "Think what you will. But I don't think the Gasts ever forgot they lost the Titan War." She jerked her head toward the singing ranger. "Neither did we."

Isla's hand snaked out to clutch her arm. "Please, don't go. Let's just drop this, alright? You're leaving in the morning again, and I don't want to part like this."

It was a struggle not to shrug her friend off, but Leiyn managed it. She hated feeling petulant, even as she knew she was in the right. But so was Isla; there was no point in leaving things on a sour note.

Isla pressed her advantage. "Stay. Just for a drink or two."

Leiyn sighed and sat back down, studiously ignoring the gazes of the other rangers. "Fine. Just for a drink."

She couldn't help but smile at her friend's grin. "I'll fetch the first round! One for everyone?"

At the chorus of assents, Isla hopped up and strode for the kitchens, fetching an apprentice as she did to help carry the ale. Leiyn watched her go, then reluctantly met Tadeo's gaze. As he smiled, she knew that once more, he'd already forgiven any hard feelings. It was only right that she did the same.

She sighed, and tried to let the past lie—for the night, at least.

* * *

Four drinks later, Leiyn tottered across the yard to the rangers' ward.

She'd let the rising tension go and allowed herself to be swept up in the merriment of the Lodge. Yolant had sung several more songs, and Isla had convinced Leiyn to take a turn with her across the floor, to the jeers and laughter of the apprentices. Though deft in a forest, Leiyn didn't know what to do with herself when it came to dancing, yet she grinned and fumbled her way through it all the same.

But though the night was still young, Leiyn excused herself and sought her room. Her patrol began early the next morn, and her reason for volunteering for it lingered in her mind. Thirteen years had passed, but she would never forget that day.

Your spirit touches mine, she thought to her father.

Thinking of him led her to dwell on the Rache massacre. She'd only heard news of the slaughter and not witnessed it herself, but she knew enough of the details to vividly imagine it. The headless corpses. The entrails spilling down legs. The buildings, naught but ashes, smoke still spilling from the ruins.

The walls around her mahia trembled for a moment before she firmed them. She knew Gasts, just as her father had, no matter what Tadeo and Isla thought. She carried their curse everywhere she went.

She crossed the dusky yard to the rangers' wing, then unlocked and opened her door. She didn't fear her possessions being stolen by her peers; it was the apprentices a ranger had to ward against. There was a long tradition of playing tricks on the older members of the Lodge, and in her day, Leiyn had been one of the worst offenders. She had yet to fall prey to a prank, and she didn't mean to start now.

Slipping inside, Leiyn started the fire in her small stone hearth, then looked around by the flickering orange light. They were humble quarters, hardly anything that couldn't be made from the surrounding woods. Her most extravagant expenditure came in the form of graphite pens, which were imported from the Ancestral Lands and were useful for sketching the oddities often present in the Titan Wilds without the need to carry a quill and inkwell.

These and her journals were haphazardly stored on the small shelf by the door. Down the middle of the room stretched her bed, a wooden frame she and Isla had built together, a matching one in Isla's room. It was one of the many projects Tadeo had set upon them so they would bond, and as with most of his ideas, it had worked. A trunk sat at the foot of the bed, holding her oft-mended clothes.

By the head of the bed, a crooked side table she'd made on her own—carpentry had never been her strong suit—boasted several carvings Tadeo had gifted her. Half of them were of foxes, for he said her auburn tress reminded him of their summer coats. She smiled and ran a hand through the hair.

Above the fireplace were mounts for holding her bows, knives, and quivers. She could have stored them in the Lodge's armory, but found she slept easier with them nearby. Her various pieces of leather armor hung from hooks beside the hearth.

All this, her life's possessions. It wasn't much by city standards; perhaps she'd even be thought poor, though she had a fair bit of coin stashed away for her next trip to Folly. Still, the last vestiges of her irritation at dinner faded as she took it in.

It was hers, and it was all she wanted. That made it enough.

Leiyn undressed, then slipped under her woven blanket and the wolf fur draped on top. Knowing others kept watch at the gates, she had no sooner shut her eyes than she was asleep.

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