When a stranger catches you unaware, it's best not to do what I did.

  Which was to flail around in the water like some newborn calf.

  But that was only because I swore something had touched me. And it had felt slimy. So, I’d taken the necessary precautions to preserve my life, which had no doubt been in mortal danger.

  It had much less to do with the previously mentioned sword-wielding, creeping stranger standing on the bank than you might think.

  Just bad timing, I guess.

  When I was able to find my feet, still naked as can be, I said, “You know, it's rude to sneak up on people.”

  The stranger laughed, and it was rather high pitched, and dangerously scornful. Not a good combination. My mind was already trying to dredge up all the people I'd scorned in recent memory. There were a few, but not many. Well, not many who’d be able to find me, that is.

  “It's rude to steal from people.”

  When finally I’d rubbed my eyes enough to turn the vague outline into a full-fledged person, I almost laughed. But even in my state I knew better than that. It was a girl, maybe a few years younger than myself, with shortly cropped silver hair and bluish gray eyes. Her face was pointed, and sharp, her nose small, but it was the ears that gave me pause. They held a vague half-moon shape.

  Ah, an elf, then. And not just any elf, but a Luminari caste.

  My odds of survival were dropping.

  My brain, which was catching up, tried to remember if I’d seen her somewhere. But I could come up with nothing. Though I knew she was not tracking me for nothing. After a few more grueling seconds my mind did manage to dredge up some recent memories of a gathering at a Baron’s estate. There had been elves there.

  I began to walk slowly to the right, the only sound was that of my legs in the water. “I’m not sure what you’re referring to.”

  She sneered at me, showing her sharp teeth that stuck out of grayish gums. “You are clever,” she said, the tip of her blade making circles in the air. “But didn’t you know you can’t steal a moonstone without tears springing to your eyes? Did you think you were immune to elvish magics?”

  Of course I’d known that. I’d just thought I’d collected them all. Though I had underestimated just how much that particular moonstone would make me tear. Someone had carved it into the visage of a woman, and it had caught me by surprise.

  The elf narrowed her eyes. “Even cleverness underestimates. Where is it?”

  I’d kept walking through the water, and she’d finally begun following me.

  “Stop moving,” she said, but I ignored her.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, honestly. I’m not a thief.”

  “The Madcap Mage,” she sneered. “Liven up your party with bits of magic.”

  She was quoting my poster.

  “Do not insult my intelligence.”

  “I wouldn’t dare. But,” I held up a hand. “If I may, that was the old me. I’ve changed.”

  Her granite expression only grew more solid.

  Then I sighed. “I couldn’t have left more than three tears. You tracked me purely by that?” I said, impressed.

  The words had no effect. Instead, she swiped the air with her blade and it crackled. A wave of heat brushed into me and I almost stumbled. The elf was putting off some serious magic. Not just the enchanted blade but…something else.

  “I will cut you down,” she threatened, a thin vein on her neck bulging.

  “I’m cold,” I lied, still trudging through the water, trying not to slip on the rocks.

  I needed to move if I had any chance of surviving this encounter. Or not becoming her captive. The Luminari weren’t known for their mercy.

  Somewhere above a bird circled but I couldn’t expect any help even if it was Rory. He was little help in times like these. And I couldn’t blame him.

  As I moved, my feelers were trying to draw out magic from friendly currents. Both beneath the water and in the air. But none were coming to me. They rarely, if ever, did anymore. I was an outcast. Had been since my…implosion.

  I was a vulture, feasting on scraps.

  The thought pestered me most in situations like this.

  Instead, I’d have to rely on old alliances. You’ll see what I mean in a second. The poor elf girl would too.

  “You stole something that wasn’t yours,” she told me. “I want it back.”

  “I’m afraid it's long gone.”

  A sliver of fear flashed in her gray eyes. “I don’t believe you.”

  I shrugged. “I’m afraid you don’t have to but it's true. Someone hired me.”

  Another wave of warm energy hit me, making me blink. Something was going on with this elf. Something I couldn’t quite see…

  The air crackled with another swipe of her sword. “This is no game. I will–”

  “Which one are you?” I asked, interrupting. “One of the last, I’d guess.”

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Her eyes flared then narrowed. “It matters little to you now.”

  “Did your father send you, or are you doing this to prove yourself?”

  The blade came to eye level with me, and I was staring down its shimmering length.

  “You will tell me where the stone is, and I might let you live.”

  That was a flat out lie and we both knew it.

  She was going to skewer me either way. In her mind, and possibly in truth, I’d embarrassed her father and wronged the entirety of her bloodline.

  If I didn’t do something, I’d die in this no-name lake.

  “It isn’t going to make him respect you more than he already does…or doesn’t.” I was being mean, but it was necessary. She’d continued to walk with me, the blade having fallen back to her side. “Nothing will beat the succession.”

  Luminari were strictly a succession-based society. Born high in the mountains of the Northern Reach, the royalty often had a dozen or so children. And the closer you were to the first, the better you were treated. It was an elf eat elf world out there.

  “You know nothing of our ways, trickster.”

  I gave her a genuine smile, which I rarely do. “How very wrong you are.”

  I’d once had a very good friend who’d been a Luminari. He’d died in what would end up being our final assault. One of the few people I’d ever met that could…

  She stepped a foot into the water. “Where is it?” Her question came through clenched teeth. “I will strip the skin from your bones.”

  I raised my hands, stopping. I’d liked to have gotten her a little farther, but this would have to do. “I’m sorry you’ve come so far for this. Want my advice?”

  She opened her mouth, the rage just about getting the best of her. The grayish blue eyes began to glow.

  “Forget your father,” I told her. “You’ve already done the hardest part. You left the nest. Now go, make a name for yourself doing something else.”

  A spell had been building in her, waiting to bubble out. No doubt it would have nearly killed me, or worse. I felt with my own senses how she pulled the energy from inside herself. Most elves have no need to pull the strings of power or tap into ley lines like the mortals did. Their blood carries enough magic for them to get by.

  She never got the chance.

  The roots pulled her legs out from under her, and she splashed into the water. She lost hold of her blade as she tried to roll away, but more roots burst from the ground to grab hold of her.

  I watched as she fought, but even her naturally stronger physique was not enough.

  The roots of the Mythric tree were strong.

  Not long ago, I’d been party to, on pure chance, a ritual burning of the poisonous tree in a distant forest. The mindless people who’d been hellbent on perpetrating the farce had, in their madness, chosen a Mythric tree to play the part of the symbolic poisonous tree. Having noticed this, and with my big heart, I chose to intervene.

  You see, Mythric trees are one of the few consciously connected plants in all of Calastros. Even more so since the disintegration of the Worm, which had lent them all kinds of new power. But it also meant that the burning of that one tree, which had been one of the oldest of their species, would have wreaked havoc on the entirety of the connected network.

  So, when I came across such an atrocious act about to be perpetrated, me and my big heart put our life on the line to save it. Offering up another tree that had no such lifeline or network.

  In turn, the Mythric trees, in their gratitude, bestowed upon me the gift of help whenever I found myself near them. Of course, I’d been opting for a glimpse into the very roots of their memory, for my own gain, of course, but I guess I’d have to save about a dozen trees to get that privilege.

  If they’d let me in, I probably wouldn’t need Baron Gray at all. They’d be able to tell me where their roots sensed that kind of power.

  Ah, how easy it would have been.

  But, alas, things don’t need to be easy. Where would be the fun in that?

  The elf girl screamed her frustration as the bulk of her body was further wrapped in roots. She’d barely be able to move in a moment. I followed her toward the dark bark of the Mythric tree as it dragged her toward it.

  Rory landed on the branch, pecking at the feathers of his left wing. “Impressive,” he squawked. “For you.”

  I glared at him, then remembered I was basically naked. The elf needed a moment to calm down and chew on her loss, so I went back to camp, dressed, and gathered my things. On my short walk back to her, I picked up the sword she’d left in the water, carefully, of course, in case it had a hex on it.

  It didn’t, but it didn’t necessarily like my touch either. I tossed it to the ground at her feet. The roots had put her hands over her head and wrapped her legs so thoroughly that barely a sliver of fabric was visible.

  She was trying to snap her fingers, no doubt to perform some kind of spell, but the tree was preventing that too. Sapping her energy before it gathered enough to do anything. The elf was staring death at me.

  I ignored it. “Did you know these trees have been known to eat people?”

  “Liar.”

  “When they get hungry enough.”

  She spit at my feet, which actually surprised me. Technically, she must’ve been a princess. And it seemed such an uncouth gesture.

  “Just kill me already.”

  That one really surprised me. “A thief and a killer? You think so little of me.”

  “Can you blame me?” she asked.

  I didn’t have to think about that one. “Why does the moonstone mean so much to you?”

  “It's a family heirloom, you fool. I want it back.”

  “I’m guessing number eight…”

  Her eyes flicked up to me. “Twelve.”

  I whistled. She would never see the throne, then. “Damn. No wonder you want it so badly.”

  “You don’t know anything, trickster.”

  “No, probably not.” I knelt beside her. “But I’ll give you some advice anyway.” Then I almost winced at my own words. I really wasn’t old enough to be saying things like that. “It's something someone in your very same situation told me once: get out before it's too late. Get out before getting out costs you your life.”

  She looked out across the lake. “What a treat,” she mused. “Advice from the Madcap Mage. Thief and fool and trickster. I care not for it.”

  I rose. “Then tell me, do you have any more of my tears left? And do not lie to me, the tree can tell.”

  That part was true. They were eerily good at sensing lies, probably because they were inherently conscientious beings.

  The half-moon ears twitched. “I used them up weeks ago.”

  It made her feat even more impressive.

  “Then I’ll leave you here, and if you’re lucky, the tree will let you go before you piss yourself. But I wouldn’t bet on it.”

  “You let me live, I'll cut your throat twice just for being so foolish.”

  I tilted my chin. “Odd, my being a fool is what saves your life. I think I like that.”

  She didn’t so much as move after that. I walked around and put my hand on the trunk, murmuring, “Thank you.”

  “The moon will kiss the sky tonight.”

  “What?”

  It gave what I assumed was a grunt and went back to its contemplative slumber. I wondered if all trees were useless philosophers or if it was only the Mythric. The others I’d spoken to had all said things like that.

  Rory came to my shoulder as I trod through the forest, a warm bed directing my steps. “You might have half a heart.”

  I grunted.

  “But you can’t keep doing things like that.”

  That made me blink. “Well…there is a last time for everything.”

  I wasn’t in the mood to talk, and he could tell, leaving my shoulder to soar above. But not without one of his wings smacking me in the face first.

  I almost threw a rock at him, but it would have been useless, plus I’d fallen headfirst into a broody mood.

  The elf girl had dredged up old memories. The kind I liked not dredged up. And now I had to sit with the weight of long, purposefully forgotten feelings.

  And I wished that were all.

  She had said something else troubling that now prickled the back of my mind.

  If she’d truly used up the tears of mine, she’d collected, then it had been someone else the night before who’d been trying to track me.

  It was just like the fates, to pepper me with problems as I closed in on my goal. If I ever met one, I’d give them a piece of my mind. Politely, of course. Probably.

  I instead tried to focus on my next task, frowning.

  To find a fool, other than myself, that would help me in this quest.

  My frown deepened.

  This might end up very, very poorly.

  The thought didn’t bother me as much as it should have.