61 – Resolution Considerations

Andy searched the Lurikeen bodies and found two knives that, while big for the little Fae creatures, seemed a bit small for practical use as weapons for Andy. Of course, there were the two little brass hammers, and each Lurikeen wore a pouch at his belt. Inside those, he found pipes and some kind of weed that didn’t smell at all like tobacco—or marijuana, for that matter. Besides the smoking apparatus, he came away with a dozen silver coins, and other odds and ends that didn’t seem worth taking—handkerchiefs, bits of charcoal, polished rocks, and the like.

On the bigger Lurikeen, one other thing caught his eye—a silver ring inlaid with turquoise and inscribed with strange glyphs. He felt the tingle of mana from the ring and pocketed it for further investigation. His guilt over killing the little men amplified when he failed to turn up weapons other than the two knives, but then he glanced at the portal they were constructing and saw a pair of heavy wooden cudgels lying near the base. He picked one up, felt the weight of the smoothly polished wood and the mana it was radiating, and knew that despite their simple look, they were dangerous weapons.

Setting it aside, Andy got to work disassembling the portal. Each length of silvery metal slid free of the one beneath it after just a bit of wiggling back and forth. While he worked, he frequently checked the trail coming down from the mesa, and didn’t see any other Lurikeens approaching. Andy wasn’t certain his Flame Sight spell would allow him to see the little Fae if they used their hiding or invisibility skills—whatever they may be—so he moved quickly. In the end, when the circle was disassembled, he had a stack of curved silver rods at his feet.

He gathered up the portal pieces and the Lurikeens’ weapons and then jogged back to the Whisperwood Grove. There, he put them at the base of a tree and piled loose mulch over them. When he was done, he smoothed out the marks he’d made and trusted the wind and drizzle to hide the evidence of his passage. Checking to ensure he’d recovered most of his mana, he cast Deepsmoke Shroud and hurried back to the remains of the road.

Before going up to the mesa, he dragged the three corpses off the road to the east, behind a cluster of prickly pear cacti. Evidence of the battle mostly erased, he started up the trail, moving slowly to ensure he didn’t slip on the wet stone, but also to avoid being heard as he approached the top. He’d kept himself busy since the brief battle, but now that he was creeping up the stony path, his mind began to spiral.

A single question kept echoing through his thoughts: was he really going to kill all the Lurikeens? A rational side of him wanted to try to negotiate—to offer them a chance to surrender. The harder, post-apocalyptic side of him said that if he gave them an opening, he’d probably regret it. If any of them got away and gathered their Fae allies, what then? Andy was no expert on the subject, but he didn’t think Mesquite Mesa was ready for a war with the Fae. A renegade group of Lurikeens, he could handle, but if things escalated much beyond that, he had a feeling his people would suffer.

Those thoughts forced him to consider the idea that other Fae would find out about their little war, regardless. What then? Could he explain away the murder of a clan of Lurikeens? He mentally corrected himself: it wasn’t murder—not if he was preventing an invasion of Redcaps, whatever those were. What he needed was something more certain than just the killing of the Lurikeens. He needed an agreement, binding and—

***Congratulations, Andy! For the second time in as many days, you’ve discovered the value of a binding oath. As a result, your quest to halt the Lurikeens’ invasion of your settlement has been updated:

Quest opportunity: Halt the Lurikeens’ planned invasion of your settlement. Optional resolution: In the presence of witnesses, extract an oath of non-aggression from the Lurikeen clan leader, Enthian. Reward: Settlement Boon Point +1. Additional reward: System-generated treasure (potentially rare). Optional resolution bonus: Leadership skill increased by 1.***

Andy smiled, pleased to see a solution that might not involve the wholesale slaughter of the rest of the Lurikeens. He picked up the pace, padding up the side of the cliff, trusting in his Speed attribute to help him keep his footing; even at a jog, to his mind, he was moving slowly and carefully. His concealment spell masked the noise of his shoes splashing through puddles, and while he ran, he racked his brain for an idea—a way to take advantage of the System’s suggestion.

Everything was time-dependent. Andy didn’t know how long the other Lurikeens would remain unconcerned about the trio that he’d killed. He didn’t know how long they expected them to take with the portal. One thing he knew was that he had bought a little time—at least. He didn’t know if the Lurikeens had another means of creating a portal, but his gut told him they didn’t.

When he reached the top of the trail and approached the gate, he was relieved to see that the Lurikeens, when they’d passed through, had already worked to clear some of the fresh tumbleweed growth and pushed the gate ajar. He crouched at the top of the trail, staring across the open field between the edge of the mesa and the gate, trying to see if he could spot any more of the little invaders. He saw a harpy not far away, clinging to the branches of a mesquite, but he didn’t see any of the little Fae. The harpy gave him an idea, though.

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Andy hurried across the sodden field, through the gate, and onto the wet pavement of the former trailer park’s central lane. As he skulked over to the big, magical mesquite, he touched Bella’s necklace at his throat, glad that he hadn’t yet given it back to her.

When he’d read the System message and the requirement that any agreement he came to with Enthian would require “witnesses,” he’d naturally thought first of the people—his friends—down in the tunnels. He’d been frantically thinking of a plan to bring them up without starting a fight—a way to corner Enthian into an oath that they could witness.

Creeping up to the base of the tree, he looked up at the harpy there and tried to see if he recognized her. She looked vaguely familiar—perhaps one of the ones that had been hanging close by while he butchered the Thunderbird. “Hey,” he whispered hoarsely, interrupting the effects of his concealment spell, “where’s Lyta?”

She ruffled her dark grey feathers, peeking her face out from behind her wings. She held them close, almost like a blanket, covering most of her nakedness. “Where did you come from, land-loper?”

“From there,” Andy jerked his thumb toward the gate.

The harpy sniffed, growling softly. “Lyta perches near the little meadow.” She narrowed her eyes. “And why do you whisper, man-thing?”

Andy pressed his fingers to his lips. “So the little men don’t hear. Can you ask Lyta to meet me over there?” He nodded toward the gate and the fence beside it, both covered with the fresh, green growth of spiky tumbleweeds. “On the other side of the fence?”

To his surprise and joy, the harpy leaned her face closer and hissed, “Do we hunt?”

Andy shook his head. “Not yet. But I need your help to trick someone. Do you understand? Tell Lyta I’ll reward your flock.”

Her angular eyes narrowed into a predatory grin that exposed a mouthful of sharp teeth. “I’ll tell her.”

Andy nodded. “Remember, we need to be sneaky—just her!”

The harpy didn’t respond, but turned and jumped off the branch, gliding out from under the tree’s canopy and then flapping her big wings to climb up over the next set of treetops. Andy turned, ensured his Deepsmoke Mantle was still in effect, and snuck back to the gate. On the other side, he moved to a section of fence well-obscured by tumbleweeds and crouched there, waiting.

He figured he could spend his time more usefully than just staring into space, so he pushed aside some of the springy, green tumbleweeds, glad for his leather gloves. After much wriggling and pulling, he managed to create a gap through which he could spy on the meadow between the gate and the mesquite trees. Nothing stirred, and he caught sight of another harpy in a different tree. He was about to give up when he saw a Lurikeen.

It was the first female he’d seen, and she was practically skipping through the trees, reddish-brown pigtails bouncing with her movement. Andy frowned when he saw she carried a bouquet of blue and white flowers; the blooms that adorned the mesquite branches! When he heard wings flapping, he filed away the Lurikeen’s actions for later and looked up to the sky, watching as Lyta drifted down toward the soggy grass near the gate. When she landed, he thumped the ground with his spear and whispered, “Over here!”

His behavior must have interrupted his concealment spell again because her sharp, yellow-gold eyes settled on him immediately, and she stalked toward him, wings back, taloned fingers forward. It almost looked like she was going to attack, but when she drew near, she crouched down and spoke over the top of her knees, her voice hushed. “What is it? We’ll keep our bargain. The storm is almost past—”

“No, it’s not that. Didn’t the other harpy tell you? I’ve got a problem with those little—” Andy paused, considering the Lurikeen woman he’d just seen traipsing through the mesquite woods. “—people. They’re not peaceful and they—”

“Wish to harm you.”

Andy arched an eyebrow. “You knew?”

She nodded, sniffing and ruffling her feathers, shaking moisture off them. “They speak as though we’re animals, unable to hear their words. Their tongue is strange, but it comes to our ears plainly.” She shrugged. “I know not how or why.”

“What do they say?”

Lyta smiled, tilting her head. “You’ll reward us?”

Andy clicked his tongue. “Ah, so you did talk to the other harpy.”

“Well?”

“Do you like fish?”

Lyta ran her tongue over her pointy teeth, nodding. “Yes!”

“If you help me with the little people, I’ll give you enough fish to feed your flock for a few days.”

Lyta leaned close. “Good fish?”

Andy chuckled softly. “Yes, good fish.”

The harpy looked left and right, then leaned even closer. “The little people will bring an army to kill you. I heard them. They sent some to fetch killers.”

Andy nodded. “I knew that. Anything else?”

“They steal the flowers and seed pods from the trees, thinking you won’t notice.”

“Oh? They said that?”

“Yes!” Lyta made clutching motions with her sharply taloned fingers. “From this tree and that, they take some but not all. They carry them to their wood and metal house.”

“How many are they?”

Lyta frowned, flicking her fingers up as she thought about the question. After a few seconds, she shook her head. “Many. More than two talons.” Andy looked more closely at her hands, ensuring she had five fingers. She did.

“So, more than ten?”

She scowled and her feathers puffed out, rustling as she shook her head. “I think.”

Andy’s idea for a plan had grown more and more firm as they spoke, but he had to anticipate objections; he had to think of the loopholes the tricky Lurikeen would try to use. That said, he looked at Lyta for a long minute, thinking of how the Fae apparently didn’t think they were worthy of consideration—more animals than people. It was a problem for part of his plan, but even as he considered it, the solution practically presented itself to him.

“Lyta,” he said, his smile growing wide, “how do you think you and your flock would feel about joining my community?”

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