“Can you feel that?” Beldo asked, as he stopped on the outskirts of Snowfield Village and stared out into the distance.

  Lusya nodded, her gaze cast in the same direction. “Indeed. I can sense something very strange. It is similar to the effects of the devices but different. Heavier. And very close.”

  “I wish I could sense Malice and stuff,” Ariya said. “I have no idea what you guys are talking about.”

  “You have no need of that skill,” Lusya said. “We will handle it.”

  “I know. But it would still be cool.”

  Beldo chuckled. “Unfortunately, neither of us could teach you. The way mortals do it is different than the way we do.”

  It would also require Ariya to have quite some reserve of Malice, as it was a motomancy technique. It was not only unnecessary for Ariya, it was imperative that she couldn’t do it.

  “Now,” Beldo said, “we have an ominous feeling hanging over us and it’s pretty much a straight line to Levire, where the count lives, once we leave here. It seems like we’re headed right for the big showdown.”

  “It would appear so,” Lusya said.

  “And so,” Beldo said, “I propose we take a break here. I know it’s early and we could push on, but I think it’s best if we take a day to relax so we can go into this confrontation fresh.”

  He was right. It was early, not even noon, and Lusya had wanted to pass through town and continue. They did not particularly need anything, and Lusya wanted to resolve this matter as soon as possible.

  She did not feel like she needed a break. She doubted he did either. Ariya could perhaps have used one, but she was not going to fight, and she could wait a few more days. There was some merit to the idea of resting before an important battle, but Lusya didn’t see it as necessary in this instance.

  However, now that he had planted the idea in Ariya’s head, it was certain they would be staying the night in this village. Lusya was sure he had done that on purpose.

  “That sounds fun,” Ariya said. “Can we do that Lusya, please?”

  Lusya nodded. “Very well, we may take a break here. Let us find the inn.”

  While she would have preferred not to, she didn’t mind taking a break, so she saw no reason to argue. Delaying their confrontation with Count Rebran was somehow the more annoying option, but it made little functional difference if she gave Ariya a break now or after the situation had been resolved.

  It did not take long to find the inn, book two rooms, and eat a quick lunch. After they had finished eating, Lusya approached the counter to speak with the innkeeper.

  “Excuse me,” she said. “Are there any attractions or activities in or near this village that might appeal to a traveler, particularly a child?”

  She always made a point to ask about such things when giving Ariya a break. The answers were often quite mundane in these rural villages, but Ariya always seemed to enjoy them.

  “Attractions, huh?” the innkeeper echoed while stroking his scruffy beard. “Not sure we have anything like that around here, but let me think.” He hummed thoughtfully for a moment, tugging at his beard. “Well, there’s a pond a little ways north that the kids like to play on when it freezes. Oh, and if you like art, you could go visit the woods to the south. We have an eccentric painter here who loves to hang her work up out there. Telresen only knows why. Other than that…the deer in that same forest are pretty used to people. They’ll eat right out of your hand. Travelers and kids seem to get a kick out of that.”

  “Is that because they have become accustomed to the presence of the artist?” Lusya asked.

  The innkeeper shook his head. “Other way around, actually. They’ve been like that for a couple generations. The story goes that one day a doe wandered into town with a broken leg, and no one needed any meat or anything, so they fed her, patched her up, and sent her on her way. I guess she spread the word, and here we are.”

  Lusya did not know enough about animals the evaluate the veracity of that story, but there was likely at least some truth in it. “I see. That is sufficient, thank you.”

  “No problem. Hope you enjoy your stay.”

  “That is doubtful, but I will endeavor to make sure my charge does.”

  He frowned but didn’t say anything as Lusya turned away.

  She returned to the table where Beldo and Ariya waited and relayed the available options to them.

  “Well, I’m fine with whatever,” Beldo said with a shrug. “And I doubt you have much of a preference.”

  “The art is most interesting to me,” she said. “But it is not so much so that I would mind if we did not see it, nor if we did so later. Ariya may select our first activity.”

  “Yay!” Ariya exclaimed, pumping a fist in the air. “I wanna go ice skating!”

  “Then let us go.”

  #

  “Woohoo!” Ariya shouted out as she slid along the surface of the pond. She was not moving particularly fast, but, if she was enjoying herself enough to elicit such excitement, Lusya could say nothing to deny that to her. Going too fast could be dangerous anyway.

  The entire thing was covered with ice, glistening in the sunlight. Lusya would not have known at a glance if it was thick enough to support a person’s weight, but, as the innkeeper had said, it was a popular gathering place for the village children. Several of them had already been skating around when Lusya and the others arrived.

  They shouted and laughed as they slid to and fro. The pond was rather small, so they often had to reverse course or go in circles. Thus far, they had not interacted with Ariya, nor had she made any effort to speak or play with them. She seemed quite content to shuffle around the pond by herself for the time being.

  “I’m glad she’s having fun,” Beldo said with a smile.

  “Indeed,” Lusya said. She looked at him, cocking her head and blinking twice. “Why did you want us to stop here? Ariya did not urgently need a break, and I do not believe either of us needed one at all.”

  Beldo shrugged. “I don’t think breaks are something you only take when you need one. Besides, even if she’s not showing it much, I’m sure all this has been getting to Ariya at least a little bit, and the final showdown will probably be at least a little stressful for her.”

  “I see,” Lusya said. “You are likely correct.”

  “Anyway, it’s not like this one day is going to make or break anything. I mean, technically, it could. But it’s not likely.” Seeing as he was the one who knew the most about the problem at hand, she would trust his judgment on the matter. “Being punctual is all well and good, but you’ve gotta let yourself live a little too.”

  “I do not.” She preferred having some leisure time, but she would have been fine without. “But that may be true for most people.”

  “I speak from a great well of experience,” he said.

  “I suppose you do.”

  Lusya did not necessarily believe that age equaled wisdom or earned respect, but two thousand years of life had likely taught Beldo at least a few things worth knowing.

  “I’d guess it’s true for you too,” he said.

  Lusya blinked, tilting her head again. “Would you?”

  He nodded. “Your requirements might be lower than most people, but I think you’d break too if you did nothing but focus on your mission for too long.”

  “That may be the case,” she replied.

  Beldo shrugged. “I guess there’s no way to know for sure, though. I wouldn’t recommend testing it.”

  “Indeed.”

  She could not say she had ever felt that way, but then, the longest she had ever gone without leisure of any kind was less than a year. Hardly long enough to draw a definitive conclusion, especially when she might have simply hidden the feeling, and any memory of it, away from herself.

  Ariya had approached the other children and begun playing with them now. They were engaged in an ice skating version of tag. It was rather chaotic, since no one had full control of their movement, with many collisions, slips, and falls, but nobody seemed to be getting seriously injured.

  “It’s nice that she gets to play with some kids her own age,” Beldo said. “That doesn’t happen often, does it?”

  “On occasion.”

  Ariya did sometimes play with other children when they took a break in smaller towns. Lusya neither encouraged nor discouraged it. As long as Ariya did not get hurt, draw suspicion, or let any sensitive information slip, it did not matter to Lusya. Ariya had proven plenty capable of keeping secrets, and she never came out of playing with more than a minor bruise or two, which never seemed to bother her much.

  However, she did not always want to play with the village children. Sometimes, she wanted to spend the day alone with Lusya, whether that meant reading in their inn room or seeing the sights together. Lusya did not mind that either. The whole point of their breaks was for Ariya to spend them as she pleased.

  “That’s good to hear,” Beldo said. “She loves you, but a girl like that needs to spend time with other kids too.”

  “I am aware of the importance of socialization in a child’s health,” Lusya replied.

  Beldo smiled a mirthless smile. “Did your research, huh?”

  “Indeed.”

  Socialization was the one need Lusya could not see to as much as conventional wisdom deemed necessary. They were never in one place for long enough, and they were often alone on the road.

  But Ariya seemed to be holding up well enough regardless. If she was suffering from deficient socialization, she was not showing it. At least, not in any way that Lusya knew to look for. If nothing else, she would almost certainly hold up until they reached Midbud Isle.

  Ariya continued playing with the other children for a bit longer, but it was not long before they had to leave. They bid her farewell, told her they had had fun, and returned to town. Ariya waved them off and went back to playing by herself.

  She slid around the frozen pond, slowly becoming faster and more confident in her movements. As she progressed, she began to throw the occasional spin into her laps around the pond.

  Then, at last, once it seemed she had a good grasp on how to move on the ice, she stopped and turned toward Lusya with a broad grin.

  “Hey, Lusya!” she shouted, much louder than was necessary to hear her over the small distance between them. “Watch me do a flip!”

  “Do not do a flip,” Lusya said. “You will hurt yourself.”

  “I’ll be fine! I’m really good at this now. Watch.”

  “Ariya, do not attempt to do a flip.”

  Ariya skated forward, quickly reaching her maximum speed, and jumped into the air, throwing herself backward. She promptly began plummeting to the ground, primed to land flat on her back.

  Lusya created a motomancy barrier beneath Ariya, catching her after she had fallen mere inches. She landed with a quick grunt, but did not seem at all harmed. Lusya slowly lowered her to the ground and dissolved the barrier.

  Ariya promptly began to stand and managed to do so after her feet slipped out from under her a few times.

  “I told you not to do a flip, child,” Lusya said.

  Ariya dusted the snow off the back of her coat and grinned at Lusya once more. “That was awesome! I’m gonna try again.”

  “Do not try again,” Lusya said. “You almost fell. You will be hurt.”

  Ariya frowned and cocked her head. “No, I won’t. You’ll catch me again, right?”

  Lusya blinked. She could not think of a good counterargument to that. She was confident in her ability to catch Ariya. “I suppose that is true.”

  “So, can I keep trying?” Ariya asked. “Please? I wanna figure out how to do it.”

  Lusya considered for a moment and nodded. “I doubt you will manage to do that within the day, but you may keep trying.”

  “Yay! All right, get ready, I’m gonna try again now.”

  #

  Eventually, after managing half a flip and almost landing on her belly instead of her back, Ariya had been satisfied with her results, and they had moved on from the pond. Since both the remaining attractions were in the southern woods, that was their next destination.

  Lusya could not help but be curious both about what kind of person hung art up in the woods and what kind of art they hung up. She had expected to find a few paintings hung up on the trees, mostly landscapes or portraits. Instead, she arrived to find dozens upon dozens of canvases nailed to the forest’s trees.

  There were indeed some landscapes and portraits among them, and they had been crafted with some skill. But there was more than that. There were pictures of houses, scenes from daily life in the village, paintings of animals, and more. Some of the paintings could barely even be called such. They were nothing more than seemingly random splotches of paint upon the canvas, a meaningless combination of colors. One was a single black line drawn horizontally across the canvas.

  “Wow,” Beldo breathed as he looked around. “It looks like our artist friend’s been at this for years.”

  “So it would seem,” Lusya replied.

  He briefly stopped to examine a forest landscape before moving on to a portrait of a woman. “I was kind of thinking they would rotate what they had out here, but it looks like they just hang their stuff up and leave it here.”

  “Indeed.”

  As a testament to that, many of the paintings were in far from pristine condition. Paint was smeared and faded, canvases frayed and torn, and their wooden frames cracked and broken. A few paintings seemed to have had the rope holding them up snap or the nails fall out and now lay half-covered in snow on the ground. Going by the trees with vacant nails in them and no painting nearby in sight, Lusya was guessing some paintings had even been completely buried, though it was also possible the artist had reclaimed them or that someone or something else had made off with them for whatever reason.

  “They’re nice pictures,” Ariya said as she beamed at them. “Oh, I like this one. It’s a cute bunny.”

  It was a well-painted rabbit. The artist had obviously taken extra care to capture the texture of the fur. It almost seemed that it would be soft to the touch.

  “There’s quite a variety here, too,” Beldo said. “We’re not dealing with an amateur.”

  “They are quite skilled,” Lusya said.

  It was impossible to say where the artist had learned to paint. They might well have been self-taught. But even so, “amateur” did not seem an appropriate label for the level of ability on display here.

  “I wonder why they hang them all up here,” Ariya said.

  “Perhaps we will ask them later.” Lusya did not know who was putting these paintings here or where to look for them, but she could always ask.

  Ariya smiled as she looked up at a picture of a squirrel. “Maybe they want the animals to enjoy some art.”

  “That is a possible explanation.”

  That seemed rather wasteful. Lusya wasn’t even sure animals were capable of enjoying art. But, they were talking about an eccentric who painted dozens of pieces only to display them in the middle of the woods. It hardly seemed implausible that it was meant as some kind of gallery for the forest’s animals.

  “I wonder which paintings are the animals’ favorites,” Beldo said with a small smile.

  “Probably the ones with lots of colors,” Ariya said. “Those are my favorites.” She pointed to a painting. “Like that one!”

  Beldo looked at it and hummed in thought. “I don’t know. I think they’d prefer some of the calmer ones. But you might be right.”

  “I think so.”

  The painting was of a forest, with the trees painted in bright, eclectic colors. Vibrant red and blue leaves sprang from violet and yellow branches, and the sky was rendered as a swirl of seemingly every color the artist could manage to get on the canvas. It was an interesting piece to look at, though it was a bit too bright for Lusya’s taste. She almost felt like her eyes were straining just to take it all in.

  “We will browse these paintings for the time being, until some deer arrive,” she said. She looked to Ariya. “You still wish to feed them, correct?”

  Ariya nodded, beaming. “Yeah! I wanna feed them lots!”

  “You may feed them what we have, once they are here,” Lusya said.

  “Can’t we go looking?”

  “I was told it was best to let them approach us,” Lusya replied. “They are accustomed to people, but they may still become frightened if startled, especially by someone not from the village who is unfamiliar to them.”

  Ariya sighed, but she quickly recovered her smile and nodded. “Okay. I wouldn’t wanna scare them. That would be mean.”

  “Then we will look at the paintings in the meantime. I will let you know if I see any deer.”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  “Me too,” Beldo said.

  Ariya nodded again. “Okay. I’ll tell you guys if I see any too.”

  With that settled, they roamed the area, looking at the various paintings hung around the area. Considering the sheer variety, it remained quite entertaining for some time. Ariya and Beldo both seemed to agree, with the former staring wide-eyed in wonder at most of the paintings, while the latter smiled at them and nodded in more subdued appreciation.

  They discussed the various works of art, though Ariya rarely had much of substance to say. Beldo proved himself quite the astute art critic, giving detailed impressions on the styles, colors, and brush strokes of several pieces.

  Still, the novelty did start to wear thin after a while. Lusya was fine, but Ariya’s expression gradually shifted to a frown, her lower lip protruding, as the artwork lost its luster.

  It was just as her brow started to furrow that a faint crunching of snow caught Lusya’s attention, and she turned to see a trio of deer standing some ways away, separated only by a few low-hanging branches as they cautiously eyed Lusya and the others.

  “Ariya,” Lusya said. She tugged on Ariya’s hand to get her to look in the deers’ direction. “They are here.”

  Ariya turned toward the animals and gasped. She danced from one foot to the other with excitement, smiling from ear to ear, and seemed about ready to scream in elation.

  “Calm yourself,” Lusya said.

  Ariya took a deep breath and managed to stand still, nodding. “Right. Do you have the food?”

  “Yes. There is nowhere it could have gone since I bought it.”

  Lusya opened one of her pouches and produced a small paper bag. Inside were three apples, each sliced into several pieces. Lusya pulled out a few slices and handed them to Ariya, who took them with an overjoyed grin and such enthusiasm that her hands were trembling. Lusya held on to one slice for demonstration purposes.

  “Hold a slice flat on your hand, like this. Otherwise, the deer may bite your fingers.”

  “I know,” Ariya said. “I was there when the guy explained it. I’ll be careful.”

  Lusya nodded. “Very well.”

  Ariya gasped again. “They’re coming closer!”

  Indeed, the deer were slowly treading closer. It did not take long for them to close the distance, the closest of them staring at the slice of apple resting upon Lusya’s palm. It seemed her demonstration had drawn them in.

  “Here,” Lusya said, proffering the apple to Ariya. “You may begin.”

  Ariya shook her head as the deer walked ever closer. The nearest one was now less then a foot away, its head lowered to be level with Lusya’s hand and the sliver of fruit that its unwavering eyes were fixated on.

  “Nuh-uh,” Ariya said. “She wants it from you.”

  Lusya blinked. “If you insist.”

  She held her hand out toward the deer, and it was quick to take the one more step it needed to snatch the piece of apple from her hand. Its tongue glided over her hand as its teeth plucked the fruit from Lusya’s palm, and the creature retreated a couple steps as it crunched on the morsel.

  The tongue on Lusya’s hand had been an interesting sensation, as was the slobber now resting in the apple slice’s place. It was oddly viscous. She could do without repeating that.

  Ariya, however, wasted no time in taking her turn. She placed an apple slice on one hand, clutching the rest in the other, and thrust it out toward the deer. The deer took it without hesitation, and Ariya squealed in delight. Save for its ears twitching, the animal gave no reaction to the sound. Its two fellows approached, and before long Ariya was alternating between feeding each of them, while Beldo came to stand beside Lusya and watch.

  “Lusya, look!” Ariya exclaimed as the leftmost deer, having finished its second slice of apple, lowered its head to grab a third from her.

  “I am looking,” Lusya replied.

  Ariya continued feeding the deer in turns until she had exhausted her supply of apple slices, at which point she looked up at Lusya and held out her hands. “Can I have more?”

  “Of course,” Lusya said. “This is what they are for.”

  She pulled another several slices and gave them to Ariya. As soon as they were in her hands, Ariya returned to feeding the deer with a “Thank you, Lusya!” that came so quickly the words blended together almost to the point of being incomprehensible.

  As Ariya refocused on the deer, Beldo cleared his throat to get Lusya’s attention.

  “Could I have a few?” he asked, waving at the bag she held. “Just one for each is plenty.”

  Lusya looked to Ariya. “Ariya?”

  “I can share!” she replied hurriedly.

  Lusya nodded. “Very well, then.”

  She handed Beldo three slices of apple.

  “Thank you,” he said with a smile. “That guy wouldn’t sell me any.”

  “I heard the exchange,” Lusya said.

  He shrugged. “I get where he was coming from, but still. It wouldn’t have hurt him to part with a few more.”

  “Most likely not.”

  “Oh, well. I guess it worked out.”

  Lusya had purchased the apple slices from the town’s general store while they passed through town on their way here from the frozen pond. Since most villagers and travelers alike simply fed their own scraps to the deer, the apple slices were not a product the store usually sold. Its owner bought apples and cut them up for his daughter to feed to the deer, rather than waste their food on the animals. Since Lusya was of the same mind, the owner had agreed to sell her some for Ariya. As they had been leaving, Beldo had stayed behind a moment to try to purchase some for himself, but the owner had been uncooperative.

  “You’re not a little girl,” he had said, “so, unless you’ve got one of your own who wants to feed the deer, I’m not selling you any of these. Now, either buy something else, or get out.”

  As far as Lusya knew, Beldo had not purchased anything else.

  They continued to watch, Beldo holding on to his apple slices, as Ariya fed the deer. Lusya resupplied her a few more times when she ran out of apple, until their supply was exhausted, save for what Lusya had given Beldo.

  “That is it,” Lusya said as Ariya reached toward her again. “There is no more.”

  Ariya groaned but then beamed at Beldo as she took a step back from the deer. “Your turn.”

  He smiled and held out a slice of apple. One of the deer came to claim it, and he repeated the process with the other two. Perhaps sensing, by scent or otherwise, that the three had no more food on them, the deer turned and left only seconds after Beldo had finished feeding the last one, while he wiped the slobber on his hands off on a nearby tree.

  “That was so cool,” Ariya squealed as the deer retreated into he distance. “And they were so cute. Did you see, Lusya? Were you watching?”

  “I was watching, and I saw,” Lusya replied.

  “Weren’t they cute?”

  Lusya nodded. “Yes, they were.”

  “Well, I thought they—” Ariya abruptly stopped, her jaw hanging open as she stared at Lusya. “Did you just say they were cute?”

  Lusya cocked her head and blinked twice. “Yes. Is there a problem?”

  “It’s not a problem,” Ariya replied. “But I expected you to be all like…” She deepened her voice as she continued. “…‘They were not cute. I do not find things cute. Animals do not like me, and I do not like them.’”

  “I do not speak like that.”

  “Your voice isn’t that deep,” Beldo said. “But other than that…”

  “In any case,” Lusya said, “I had a cat when I was younger. I am capable of appreciating the aesthetics of animals, and I do not have any particular distaste for them in general.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Ariya said. “That makes sense.”

  “It is true that animals often dislike me, but my opinion on them, aesthetically and as a whole, is formed on an individual basis.”

  “I get it,” Ariya said. “What about you, Beldo? What did you think?”

  “They were very cute,” he said. “And that was very cool. It’s not often you see wild animals so accustomed to people.”

  “But you have seen it before?” Lusya surmised.

  He nodded. “A few times.”

  “Is it always deer?” Ariya asked.

  He shook his head. “No. I’ve seen deer before, but it’s also been foxes, wolves, squirrels, rabbits, bears, birds…”

  “Wow,” Ariya said, her wide eyes sparkling. “I would have liked to see that. I wanna ride a wolf into battle!”

  “You will not be riding anything into battle,” Lusya said. “You will not be going into battle.”

  Ariya huffed and pouted.

  “Well then, it seems our business here has been completed,” Lusya said. “Unless you would like to look at the paintings for a bit longer?”

  Ariya hummed in thought and nodded. “I think so. Just a little longer.”

  “Very well. You may have a few more minutes. After that, we will return to town for dinner.”

  Ariya smiled. “Okay!” She pointed at a distant painting. “I wanna get a good look at that one! The colors are so pretty!”

  They spent the next several minutes looking at various paintings as dictated by Ariya.

  “It is time to go,” Lusya declared at last as Ariya finished examining a painting of a multi-colored bear riding an enormous horse.

  Ariya groaned and stopped a foot. “But I wanna look at a little more.”

  “It is almost time for dinner,” Lusya said. “You will be upset, and it will have adverse physical effects if we delay your meal too much. And I said I would allow few more minutes, and you implicitly agreed. It has already been longer than what is typically considered a few minutes already.”

  Ariya frowned and refused to meet Lusya’s gaze. “I guess that’s all true.” She sighed and looked up at Lusya with a smile. “Okay, we can go back. I am getting kind of hungry.”

  “Then let us go,” Lusya said, before looking to Beldo. “I assume you have no objections?”

  He shook his head. “Nope. These are some nice paintings, but I can always come back and see the ones I missed later. I’m ready to go if you are.”

  Lusya blinked. “You do not have to come with us right now, if you would rather continue looking at them.”

  “I wouldn’t be a very good guide if I didn’t,” he said with a bemused smile. “Besides, it wouldn’t be fair to Ariya if I got to keep looking while she has to leave.”

  “Yeah!” Ariya said with an emphatic nod, crossing her arms.

  “Then let us go,” Lusya said.

  They walked back to town. When they returned, it was to the sight of new arrivals. Several wagons were stopped at the center of the village, near the inn, with men and woman bustling about as they unloaded the wagons’ contents while a few villagers looked on.

  The newcomers seemed to have erected a stage in front of their wagons already, and, while most of what they were unloading was contained in boxes or crates making it hard to see, Lusya did manage to catch a glimpse of some brightly colored costumes and props.

  “Oh, traveling performers!” Beldo exclaimed. “What luck for them to stop here while we’re in town.” He whirled to face Lusya and hurried to continue. “This really is luck. There’s no way I could have planned this.”

  She nodded. “I thought as much.”

  “Oh, are they gonna do a play?” Ariya asked.

  “Most likely.”

  “Can we watch, Lusya?” She looked up at Lusya with wide, pleading eyes. “Please can we watch?”

  “Yes, we can,” Lusya replied. “For now, let us continue to the inn for dinner. I am sure they will advertise when they are beginning.”

  “Yay!”

  There was no reason for them not to watch the play. Whether this troupe charged for admission or simply performed and relied on the audience tipping in appreciation, it was unlikely to cost an exorbitant sum. In the latter case, it would cost nothing. She might have been inclined to contribute a small payment in different circumstances, but while traveling and being careful with her funds, she would not feel the least bit guilty about abstaining.

  Depending on when the show started, it was possible that they might get to bed late. This was chiefly a concern for Ariya, but it was unlikely to be by enough of a margin to be an issue.

  “Well, then, let’s get to the inn and get eating,” Beldo said. “We wouldn’t want to miss any of the show.”

  #

  Lusya settled down on a wooden bench beside Ariya, while Beldo took a seat on the opposite side of Ariya. Moments after they had finished eating, one of the traveling troupe’s members had entered the inn to announce to all present that a performance was about to begin. At Ariya’s urging, they had wasted no time in leaving the inn and coming to see whatever play the troupe would put on. They did not know for certain that the performance would be a play yet, but the man announcing the show had alluded to it, promising “a deeper narrative, more heartfelt performances, and truer emotion than you will find in any city theater.” It was impossible to take such boasts at face value, but Lusya had heard that some traveling troupes were quite skilled, so they could not be dismissed out of hand either.

  Despite Ariya’s rush, there was still quite some time before the play would begin. Most of the seating the troupe had set up was empty, and most of those who were present were others who had been dining at the inn, along with a few of the villagers who had been watching the troupe get set up. The rest of the latter seemed to have tired of waiting and left.

  Other troupe members were roving the streets, shouting out for all to hear that the performance was about to begin. As was to be expected from performers used to projecting their voices, Lusya could hear them from quite some distance.

  Slowly, more of the village’s inhabitants began to trickle into the central area and claim open spaces on the waiting benches. Most were smiling and had a noticeable spring in their step. In a small village like this, a traveling troupe’s performance must have been something of an event.

  The troupe was charging for admission, with a few members intercepting villagers before they could take a seat. However, seeing as they were performing outdoors in the open, the charge was essentially for the seat itself. There was little they could do to stop others from watching, and a few villagers declined to pay and opted to stand as they watched, something the troupe members made no effort to discourage beyond a few jokes calling the villagers freeloaders and suggesting their legs might get tired.

  “When are they gonna start?” Ariya asked, shifting restlessly in her seat, as the wait continued.

  “Presumably, when they have judged they have gathered all the paying viewers they can,” Lusya replied.

  “And when is that gonna be?”

  “I do not know. Short of the entire village attending, I do not have the experience or expertise to judge what threshold they may wish to reach.”

  Ariya scowled and huffed. “Well, I hope they reach it soon.”

  “It shouldn’t be too much longer,” Beldo said. “Not more than ten minutes.”

  “That’s way too long.”

  “We do not have much choice but to wait,” Lusya said. “Practically speaking, there is nothing we can do to speed up the process. The alternative is not watching the show.”

  Ariya sighed. “I know, but waiting sucks.”

  The seats continued to fill up over the following minutes. Before long, every seat was taken, and several more villagers were standing nearby, waiting for the show to begin. The troupe members didn’t bother trying to charge the few who arrived after the seats were full.

  The troupe members exchanged a series of looks and nods and retreated behind their stage. It was well put together for something meant to be set up and taken down repeatedly. They had even erected a wooden frame with a curtain in front, though Lusya and the others had been able to see many of the props, performers, and sets waiting behind on their way from the inn.

  As they waited for the curtain to open or the troupe members to reappear, the villagers spoke to each other in excited murmurs, speculating about what kind of show the troupe might perform and how well they might do so, along with a smattering of unrelated topics having to do with the town or their personal lives or relationships.

  Then, at last, the curtain began to move. The myriad conversations occurring died one-by-one, some speakers immediately falling silent while others hurried to finish their last thought first.

  The curtain finished pulling aside to reveal a single man standing upon the stage in the center. He waited a moment for the last few members of the audience to fall silent before clearing his throat and beginning to speak.

  “Ladies and gentlemen of Snowfield Village,” he said. “We are the Everyman’s Ever-Errant Players.” He paused to allow the audience to absorb that information. Most gave little reaction, but Beldo cocked an eyebrow and leaned forward. “You may have heard of us as simply, ‘the Ever-Errant Players,’ or, ‘the Everyman’s Players.’”

  The man paused once more, and a murmur ran through the crowd. The bulk of the villagers seemed confused, but a few indicated that they had heard one name or the other from travelers before.

  “Oh, I’ve heard of them,” Beldo said, keeping his voice low.

  “Are they good?” Ariya asked, making no such effort.

  “I believe it is etiquette to be quiet while someone is on stage, just as in a theater,” Lusya said.

  Ariya blushed. When next she spoke, it was in a whisper. “Oh. Sorry.”

  “You need not apologize to me,” Lusya said. “I am merely protecting your interests.”

  What was polite or expected in this situation was of little personal concern to Lusya, and, since she would likely never see anyone here save for Ariya and Beldo after tomorrow morning, there were no consequences to worry about for breaching such etiquette. However, if Lusya or the others—most likely Ariya—were too disruptive, the villagers or the troupers might ask them to leave or otherwise interfere with their ability to watch the performance. Since they were here anyway, Lusya would rather see the show than not, but it would be a mild misfortune at worst to her if they were prevented from doing so. Ariya, on the other hand, would be quite upset.

  Ariya smiled at Lusya. “Thank you, then.”

  “You are welcome.”

  Ariya turned back to Beldo. “So?”

  “I’ve heard they are,” he replied. “I’ve never actually seen them perform before.”

  The man on the stage waited for all the audience’s voices to die down before continuing.

  “Many troupes such as ours have noble patrons. Many of those who do not wish they did. And who could blame them?” He put a hand to his chest. “We certainly do not. Having a patron affords stability, even luxury. Wealth, connections, prestige. All these and more can be yours with a nobleman’s patronage. And all you need do in return is perform in his lands as much as you can and perhaps put on a show at his manor a few times every year. Moreover, while many such nobles seek only the fame and admiration that can come with having their name attached to great works, just as many more, to their credit, have a genuine passion for the arts and the artists they support. And yet, although proud noblemen have fallen to their knees, begging, with tears in their eyes, for us to accept their patronage, we have no patron. Why, you may ask?”

  He paused again to look over the crowd. Although he held the attention of them all, many of the villagers looked puzzled, which Lusya suspected was more confusion at this speech than curiosity regarding or consideration of the answer to his question. Lusya had not been to many plays, but none of the ones she had been to had begun with a lecture about the workings of the theater industry or patronage system, and she believed that was typical. For her part, she was a little perplexed about the man’s claim about noblemen begging on their knees. It was obviously hyperbolic, but he had delivered it in all earnestness. She was not sure whether or not he expected anyone to believe him.

  “It is because you, dear men and women of Snowfield Village,” he said, his arms held out toward the crowd, as if inviting them to take his hands, “are our patrons. You, and all the common men and women of Ysuge. Our mission, nay, our purpose, is to bring quality theater to all, and we will accept no compromise, we will not give an inch, we will not allow ourselves to be beholden to anyone or anything else in pursuit of this goal!”

  The man raised his fists into the air, and a few villagers began to clap. Most of the confused expressions in the crowd had given way to appreciative ones, and more and more of the crowd steadily joined in on the clapping, though many of the children—Ariya included—had started to grow restless, shifting in their seats, tugging on their parents’ sleeves, and muttering questions or complaints.

  “Thank you, thank you,” the man said, and the applause soon died down. “Now then, enough about us, and on to the show. Today’s production is an original play by our troupe’s most-esteemed writer, Adana Trittin. You may laugh. You may cry. You will certainly experience a tale like no other, and a performance without equal. We bring you: The Frozen Court. Enjoy.”

  The man bowed, and the curtain closed seemingly on its own, with no stagehand in sight and no room for one to hide. Some hidden mechanism must have been at play. The curtain opened shortly after to reveal another member of the troupe, who, acting as the narrator, began to explain the setting of the story and the circumstances regarding its beginning. Once he was done, the curtain closed again. This time, it remained closed for several minutes, while the audience listened to rustling, shuffling, and thumping emanate from the other side. At the Vorstil, the theater Lusya and Ariya had attended a performance at in Zentril, the curtains had been thick enough and the seats far enough from the stage to dampen much of the noise of sets being assembled and actors taking their places, but that was not the case here. None of the villagers nor Ariya seemed bothered, however.

  After the sounds ceased, the curtain opened once again, and the play began in earnest. It took place in a fictional northern country known as Borana and was largely a comedy, depicting the conflicts and machinations of the country’s court as various nobles attempted to arrange their own ways to impress the king and win his favor at an upcoming ball. Their methods ranged from gifts to favors to performances, leading to a rather humorous moment where many of the—otherwise quite skilled—performers pretended to be awful at acting as one of the noble’s plan went awry.

  While much of the play was farcical, depicting its scheming nobles as petty and childish, there were some dramatic scenes, and the protagonist’s goals and actions were often played in earnest. Said protagonist was a young noblewoman named Ilva. Most of the other characters wanted the king’s favor for selfish, often exaggeratedly unnecessary reasons. One wanted a greater title, although he already held the second-highest possible for non-royalty. Another wanted lighter taxes, claiming that the gold mines in his territory were beginning to run dry. They had produced about one coin’s worth less in the current year than the previous, and he was the wealthiest man in the kingdom short of the king. Two more each wanted a piece of land they had been feuding over. Said land was one square foot in size. One wanted to gain the king’s trust and be appointed regent in the event of the king’s untimely death until the young prince reached adulthood, so he could then have the king assassinated. Yet another admitted he had no particular reason for it. His life was comfortable and his relationship with the king was fine as it was. He simply felt it was what a member of the court should do.

  By contrast, Ilva, the only child of a relatively poor noble family whose territory encompassed a single town, wanted only the king’s help in restoring a neglected garden the children of the town had once enjoyed playing in. Ilva’s initial plan to impress the king involved creating a sculpture of his prized horse, of which he was exceptionally fond, bringing her into contact with the other characters as they all had something she needed to make the sculpture truly exceptional, such as access to the horse and previous artwork to reference, materials, or humorous anecdotes about the horse she might consider depicting or alluding to in the final piece.

  She was able to create the sculpture, but her plan was ruined when another noblewoman—who had earned Ilva’s trust by masquerading as a staunch ally—filed down one of the floor tiles the sculpture was set to rest on for its presentation in secret, making the ground uneven and causing the sculpture to fall and shatter while leaving no evidence the sculpture itself was tampered with. Despite this, the king asked what Ilva sought his favor for and, impressed with her selfless answer, granted her request. The saboteur threw a fit, revealing her duplicity, and, for the crime defiling the likeness of the king’s beloved horse, was sentenced to clean the actual horse’s stable for the next year as punishment. The play ended with the king and Ilva watching the children of Ilva’s town play in the restored garden.

  Waves of laughter rippled through the audience throughout the show, and the villagers responded with thunderous applause when it ended and all the performers came up on stage together one more time.

  “Thank you, all of you,” the first man who had spoken said as he stepped to the front and center of the stage, with the performers lined up behind him. “There is no greater joy in life for us than touching the hearts of others through our performances. Your approval means more to us than you can ever know. We are honored by your patronage, and we hope to perform again for you.”

  He stepped back and moved to the far left of the stage, at the end of the line, and gave a final bow together with the rest of his troupe. Then it was over. Two troupe members split off and went behind the stage and the curtains began closing—those two had never been on stage before, so presumably they were stagehands controlling whatever mechanism moved the curtains—while the others held their bows, and the crowd began to disperse, chattering excitedly about the show.

  “That was awesome!” Ariya exclaimed as she, Lusya, and Beldo headed back toward the inn. “It was so funny. Wasn’t it, Lusya?”

  “It was amusing,” Lusya said. “Although I would have preferred it were not a comedy. You know I often do not understand or appreciate humor.”

  “I know, so it must have been good if you’re saying it was funny. Besides, your eyes were wide a lot.”

  “Indeed. The setting was a clever choice as well.”

  Ariya cocked her head and blinked twice. “What do you mean?”

  “The play was set during winter in a northern kingdom,” Lusya said. “That allowed the performers to dress warmly for most of the show. It was the perfect setting for an outdoor winter performance.”

  “Oh, yeah, you’re right,” Ariya said, her eyes widening in realization. Her expression pensive, she seemed to take a moment to appreciate that before turning to Beldo. “What about you, Beldo? Did you like it?”

  “It was good,” he replied. “The ending was a little cheesy for my taste, but I’d watch it again.”

  “I liked the ending,” Ariya said. “It was happy, except for the mean lady, and the king was so nice. It made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.”

  Beldo smiled. “Well, I’m glad you liked it.”

  “It is good that you have enjoyed today, Ariya,” Lusya said. “Now, let us hurry to the inn. It is time for bed.”

  Ariya nodded. “Okay.” She let out a long, loud yawn. “I know it’s already late, and I am pretty tired.”

  Lusya gave her head a pat. That ready acknowledgment of the situation and obedience deserved a reward. “Good girl.”

  Ariya grinned. “Thank you for letting me stay up to watch the play, Lusya.”

  “You are welcome. Come along.”