Ivy awoke in the morning to a stinging sunbeam warming her crimson face. She groaned from the effort of leaving the warm blankets. The sound had no chance of waking Yesenia, who had made a privacy curtain around their bed using magic. Less a curtain and more a wall. Of two-inch-thick ice. For someone attempting to hide their wizardly ways, Yesenia was very liberal when it came to ensuring privacy. Ivy had no clue if this would cause water damage.

  Shrugging off the thought, Ivy got to getting dressed. Changing out of her silk night gown and into what the heiress thought was clothing of the working class. A puffy sleeved cream-colored silk shirt, dark leather britches, and knee-high drake leather riding boots. Black drake of course. After applying a thin coating of horn wax, Ivy looked roughly like two thousand- six hundred and thirty-two gold pieces. Or an estimated one million bucks.

  Ivys footfalls were drowned out by the low roar of many voices as she trotted down the stairs. The smell of freshly baked biscuits and well spiced sausages permeated the air as every fisherman, woodsman, or apple picker came to get their fill. Ivy spied Captain Ryba eating a sizable helping of gravy drenched biscuits, boasting loudly to his men on behalf of Marco. Who was trying in vain to pull away from the naga. The captain may have been blessed with the head of a mere garden snake, but his arm held Marcos’ shoulders like a python.

  Bemused at her friends’ discomfort, Ivy exited the throngs of Memaw food enjoyers and made her way to her best friend and loyal mount. The Herbatas had managed to make accommodations for the large animal beside Pattys shed. It was little more than a hitching post, feed bucket and water trough. An indignity to Lilys station but a necessary one for now.

  However, when Ivy rounded to the back of the tavern she saw nary an indignity in sight. Lily was lying atop a bed of hay, assorted leaves and long ruddy brown feathers. Over the horse hung a canopy attached to the shed. Also constructed of leaves and given shape by twigs and twine. Her feed was already full to spilling and with the approach of her mistress Lily pulled herself from her comfort to her hooves.

  Ivy came close and pressed her forehead to Lilys. “Did someone come by and pamper you, big girl? I’ll have to thank this kind soul.”

  A voice came from the leaf bed. “Don’t mention it!”

  Ivy peered behind lily. Scrambling out of the bed was the odd, slightly disconcerting figure of Capreva. They shook foreign leaves off of themselves like a wet dog before they scurried around the large horses’ legs. Lily seemed unbothered by the little thing, even ceasing her restless hoof stamps long enough for Capreva to get in front of her.

  Ivy got down onto her knee. “You did all this?”

  Capreva nodded cheerily. “Mhm! I heard thunder last night, So I thought rain was coming. But I was incorrect!”

  “Last night- Didn’t you sleep Capreva?” Ivy said concerned tightening her features.

  Capreva shook their head just as cheerily. “Nope. Never got tired!”

  “Well uh.. alright” Ivy pat the monsters head. “Thank you, little blessing, for looking out for my steed.”

  Capreva bristled and beamed with shear excitement. They nuzzled their horned skull into Ivy’s hand. Rider made herself endure the uncomfortable texture, focusing her pets to the horns. They were her anchor to slight normalcy about the beast. Ivy chuckled at the strangeness of the creature as the gruff image of Marco rounded the corner into the back yard. He had a bow in each of his hands and his quiver on his hip.

  “You found them!” Marco said relieved as he slung the bow around his shoulder and came to his knees besides Ivy.

  “Well found is a strong word, darling. More stumbled across.” Ivy stood and grinned as Capreva drummed his hands on Marcos forearm.

  Marco sighed and looked the goat skull in its eyes. “Please don’t head out without telling me, okay. I thought you ran off.”

  Capreva tilted their head. “I did run off. I ran out here! Well I guess I snuck off. The big one and pretty maker were talking. I didn’t wanna interrupt. Then I made a rain roof for Lily!”

  Marco took a second to sort the information. “... Alright. Just, tell me before you leave.”

  “Okay!” Capreva shouted enthusiastically.

  Marco let a smile take him. “I’m just glad you’re not gone…”

  Ivy saw a tenderness wash over the woodsman. It was quite a sight. As if suddenly a shining steel plate began to give at the merest touch. Reduced to sentimental mushy wax. The softening lasted only a moment, man returning to hardened steel as he looked towards Ivy.

  “Do you know anything about archery?” Marco asked apropos of nothing.

  Ivy raised an eyebrow. “Uh… Yes? My… Well, my mother taught me a small amount. While I was very young, I haven’t retained very much.”

  “Okay, great.” Marco stood and pushed a bow into Ivys arms then marched away. “I’ll teach you and Capreva at the same time. Come on bud.”

  The monster scampered into Marco wake gleefully, Ivy was more pulled along like a floating barrel.

  “What do you mean teach us both? I had assumed you would only be training Capreva. Seeing as they are a new hire to this organization.” Ivy protested as she followed.

  Marco forged ahead. “That was the plan. Till I decided it would do you good to learn too.”

  “Do me good? Marco dear, I am not a child. As you have seen, I am quite formidable at my current state.”

  Marco ignored Ivy for quite some time. Ivy still followed, more out of stubbornness than curiosity. The vocally elated Capreva and quietly frustrated Ivy were led through the small town past homes, stores and overgrown fields. Their quiet walk through the whole of town ended at the beginning of a forest trail. Opposite end of Apie Fields from the Zolt orchard, staring into untamed countryside.

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  Marco slid an arrow from his quiver, knocked it, and pulls the fletching back to his cheek. The point was severe and glinted in the early morning light as it was raised and knocked. With little effort Marco held for a time and faster than the eye could process, the arrow was gone. Nothing but a hearty thunk as evidence of its landing, deep into the trunk of a tall powerful oak tree.

  Ivy gave Marco two sarcastic claps. “Very good darling, quite the skilled shot. But, you needn’t prove anything to me, if that was your aim. I know you’re a hounds eye with that thing, I watched you strike that griffin from nearly three hundred paces.”

  “I aint gonna be using this anymore.” Marco said flatly.

  Ivy looked at him wide eyed for a beat. “What?”

  “I’m not an archer. I can shoot a bow, but I’m not an archer.” Marco knelt down and handed his bow to Capreva. Who accepted it like a paladin being graced with a holy blade.

  Ivy laughed in disbelief. “And pray tell, what’s the difference.”

  “Confidence.” Marcos word wiped the fake smile off Ivys face. “I’m not confident with a bow. I… hesitate. And that aint fair. Not to you, or the wizard or… or the kid. He could have died to that… bitten thing, and I just stood there and watched.” The woodsman paused, looking at Ivy out of the corner of his eye. “But you didn’t.”

  The heiress furrowed her crimson brow. “I thank you for the praise, but I find it hard to understand what you’re saying?”

  “I’m saying, I’ll teach you and bud what I know. Then I’m gonna be where I belong next fight.”

  “And that is?”

  “Up front.” Marco smiled at the words.

  Ivy shook her hand and the tension dropped off her like sheets of snow. She laughed softly and wagged a finger at Marco. “You sure are quite the odd old man, my friend. But have it your way. I am happy to allow you to cleanse this from your system.”

  Marco nodded. “Thank you, Ivy.” He peered down at Capreva, who was still staring at the bow like it was made of gold. “You ready to learn little one.”

  Capreva jolted to life. “Yeah!! Yes I am sir!!” Capreva saluted to Marco.

  Marco chuckled. “Okay good. Start by trying to hit near where I did.”

  And so Capreva did. It took the little guy a few shots to get their footing and hand placement correct. You can imagine the challenges of being built like a raptor and being told to fire a bow. Especially when your teacher isn’t Spinosaurus robin hood, it’s just some ape who told you he isn’t an archer. But nevertheless, Capreva got the hang of it. They had the knack. Before an hour of shooting had passed, Capreva was actually landing shots on the tree and not the ground below or leaves above.

  Around the time they began landing their shots, Capreva started to feel bad for the tree. Marco assured the tree was tough. Capreva questioned if Marco was tough. Marco reluctantly agreed. Capreva explained they trusted Marco could very well take one arrow, maybe two, but more seemed cruel. They then began searching for more humane targets. Well, more arborane. Treemane? They shot at dead trees.

  Ivy took their turn in being taught at the second hour. Ivy had been schooled in archery as a child by her mother, but Rose Humble was around as good a teacher as she was a mother. Once she gives you the firm fundamentals you’re mostly on your own. Ivy had never enjoyed archery. It always felt like cheating. Ivy sought the honor of an honest brawl, not turning your foe to a pin cushion before they even saw your face. So once her mother lost interest in teaching, Ivy lost interest in learning.

  She still let herself be taught by Marco. Not only because of his melodramatic whinging, but because she was curious if she was still any good. She wasn’t. Not for lack of trying mind you. Both parties, teacher and student alike were trying their level best. Ivy just couldn’t keep still. Her hands shook under the weight of the bow string. She couldn’t keep her feet from moving, she stamped in place more than Lily ever had.

  Ivy tried to Invision firing at an enemy, but this only compounded the problem. She knew it would just be simpler to advance and fire at the same time. Marco said that was true, but this is for practice not combat. Ivy groaned and eventually grew tired of the exercise just as she had as a girl. Her teacher was very patient, Ivy appreciated that. He told her they could keep goin, but Ivy gave the bow back to Capreva and sat on a stump nearby. Marco made a motion to protest.

  “It’s just about their turn anyways, my friend. Allow yourself to focus on the star pupil. I can still find enjoyment in watching.” Ivy said smiling at Marco then winked at Capreva.

  “Well, If you’re sure.” Marco said turning back to the dead fallen tree, instructing Capreva where to shoot again.

  The sun was near its noon peak before they all decided to call it quits for the day. Capreva had made steady improvements, nothing spectacular but clear the little monster had talent. Marco chalked this up to celestial origins. Capreva made no objections to the assumption, but never added anything to strengthen the claim either. Ivy was still ever so slightly on the fence.

  Marco broke off from his two pupils. He told them he needed to place an order for something at the town blacksmith. A man named Krowa Dreech. The rider and goat monster waved goodbye as the large man left. Ivy thought she’d need to go and meet this Mr. Dreech at some point as she entered the Bulls Horn. Holding the door for Capreva to scamper inside.

  Almost every patron crowding the dining room had left, likely off to fill the day of work. Just a few stragglers whom Ivy assumed just didn’t have anywhere better to be. Or perhaps they loved Memaws biscuits and gravy more than employment. Heracles was sitting at the bar nursing a jar of healing tea and a headache that could fell a frost giant. Behind the bar stood a very peculiar emptiness.

  Across the room the man meant to fill that void was turning over chairs and lifting booths with panicked strength. He was attempting to make sweet ps ps ps sounds, the surefire alluring tactic of all pet owners. But through Patty’s fear and mild tusks it sounded more like he was hyperventilating with a lisp.

  Ivy made her way over just as Patty had hit his head on a table. “Have you lost something, friend Patty?”

  Patty groaned in frustration, pulling himself to his knees looking frazzled. “I can’t find Sparky. Marcys cat.”

  “Oh, that’s terrible. Do you think he’s hiding around the bar?” Ivy said in a sweet tone.

  The portly orc huffed as he stood with a little help from a chair. “I don’t know… he usually stays upstairs when there’s people going in and out. He’s real skittish. But once I got around to feeding him… gods I should have checked on him before opening.”

  “I’m incredibly sorry for this to happen. Let’s establish a timeframe my friend, when did you see him last.” Ivy said trying her best to be helpful.

  Patty sighed defeated. “I haven’t seen him all day. Mom and Marcy haven’t either. Mom thinks he got out in the night. But I swear I closed that rat bitten door.”

  Ivy was ready to lay out another tender comforting word but was jolted at the mention of night. Her eyes trailed down slowly to the scuttling little bush beast near her feet. Capreva looked up at her innocently. They had been listening to the entire conversation, delighted just to be there. Ivy glared down into little flames, accusation clear on her face. Capreva tilted their head. Ivy pointed at the door, hiding the gesture from Patty as he walked to the bar. Capreva looked at the door. Ivy made a sound like thunder and pointed harder at the door.

  Very slowly, like molasses in winter, the boney gears within Caprevas head began to turn. Their little flames grew in understanding. Looking back and forth between the door and the grief-stricken bartender, a new feeling grew inside the boney chest. A biting, uncomfortable feeling. Capreva once had termites. This was like that, only in their soul. Capreva was feeling guilt, followed by shame.

  Capreva pulled on Ivys pant leg panicked. “We… I have to find Sparky…”

  Ivy nodded and pat them on the horn. “We will find him.”

  Caprevas tail thumped the ground in the brisk happiness of hope. Quickly they righted themselves in determination and approached the bar. The bush climbed up to a stool then onto the counter, Ivy followed suit. No not onto the counter, but like followed to the bar. Patty was looking distraught at his cider bottles, holding a half empty one.

  His gaze went to Ivy, then to the ghoul of bone and twig gazing at him with flame for eyes. “By the Five! What is that!” He recoiled, now holding the bottle like a club spilling the rest of its contents.

  Heracles groaned sourly. “Please don’t yell Pat….” The young man rubbed his chitinous temples.

  Ivy put a hand on Caprevas head. “Patty be civil. This is our new friend, Capreva. They just entered with me, did you not see them?”

  Capreva waved. “Hello...”

  Patty watched Capreva wearily. “I… thought you were a branch…”

  “Now Patty, why would there be a branch in here.” Ivy asked.

  “Why would there be a monster in here!” Patty retorted.

  Heracles slammed his large fist down. “Quit. Yelling.”

  Ivy moved the conversation a few feet down the bar away from the hungover pugilist and started. “Patty, Capreva is a new member of this team and that comes with certain respects. I expect you to treat Capreva with honor and integrity. Just as you would with any patron.”

  Patty looked the arborous theropod over a few times. “And uh… Marco okayed this?”

  “Marco proposed it!” Ivy said matter-a-factly. “And, they have something they’d like to tell you.”

  Capreva nervously rubbed their hands together. “I’m going to get your cat back… We’re gonna get Sparky back sir!”

  Patty softened at that, lowering the bottle to the counter. “Really?”

  “I’m good at finding things sir! And I want to be good at helping!” Capreva scuttled forward standing at full height on the bar. Just at Pattys eye line. “I swear!” With that they shot out their boney hand towards the cat dad.

  Patty let a tusky grin shine slowly on his face. “Alright. I would be… mighty grateful if you did.” He reached forward and used two of his fingers to shake Caprevas small hand.

  Ivy smiled at this display and turned to the hulk of bug flesh. “To arms Heracles. We are retrieving Sparky.”

  Heracles shook his head. “Nope. No way. I’m not looking for a cat.”

  Capreva scuttled across the bar, his boney digits clacking like a rapid chess game. “But why not! It’s a lost kitty!”

  Heracles focused his dots into Caprevas flames and huffed dismissively. “All I wanna do is sit here and ride this headache out. Not go wandering in the woods with some deers little brother.”

  Ivy came over and shook her head. “You are truly going to let this cat just go missing, because of a headache?”

  “Mhm.” Heracles drank more tea.

  Patty looked back at the bottle rack. “Well son, as long as you’re staying you can help me figure out who knicked four bottles of my cider.”

  Heracles stayed still as stone for a long while. Then he dragged himself up and trudged to the stairs. “I’ll get Yesenia…”