62 – A Bargain

Andy walked openly through the gate without the use of his Deepsmoke Mantle spell. He maintained his Flame Sight, but he attempted to look unthreatening, holding his spear on his shoulder and strolling along with his other hand in his coat pocket. He scanned the magical mesquite grove as he walked, noting the harpies here and there, and before long, the furtive movements of Lurikeens as they skulked behind tree trunks and lurked in the shadows. A smile threatened to give him away as he realized they didn’t think he could see them.

While he’d spoken with Lyta, the clouds had continued to clear, and the wind had nearly died down to nothing. Though the sky was still gray, it was a much lighter gray than before, and the filtered sunlight gave his magically enhanced eyes a much better look at the mesa and the changes the storm had wrought.

The mesquites, with their feathery, blue-green leaves and white and blue blossoms, dominated his view in almost every direction. He couldn’t easily count the giant trees, but there had to be more than a hundred. Some grew next to the paved lanes, and their roots, rapidly grown huge via some act of magic, had lifted the pavement up on the edges. If not for that, Andy would have struggled to see the roadways, anyway; the storm had blown dirt and debris over them; the rains had soaked that debris, and plant life—green and vibrant—was already growing from some places where he knew a road should be.

Many of the little plants were unfamiliar to him, and he guessed it had to do with their Forager’s Bounty boon; berries and big leafy greens told him they were probably edible. He still thought the same boon, combined with the mana-rich storm, must be responsible for the giant mesquites. With that thought, he looked at the canopy more carefully. Sure enough, hanging from some of the branches, perhaps where blooms had been earlier, were seed pods. They weren’t like normal mesquite seed pods, though; they were wider and clearly held much larger, meatier seeds.

“Interesting…” he muttered, remembering what the harpies had told him about the Lurikeens harvesting flowers and seeds.

He angled toward the clearing that used to be a dog park, still encircled by the short chain-link fence. While he walked, he kept a tally of the Lurikeens he saw, though he made a concerted effort not to let his gaze linger on any of them. By the time he climbed over the little fence, he was pretty sure he’d seen at least eight distinct figures watching him. He strode out to the center of the grassy meadow and cleared his throat, calling out, “Enthian? Are you around?”

He saw the little green- and brown-clad man appear between some trees a good twenty-five yards distant. The air shimmered slightly around him, so Andy pretended he couldn’t see him. Instead, he turned in a slow circle and called out again. When his back was fully to the Lurikeen, Andy watched from the corner of his eye as some of the others moved close, many of whom brandished small, curved bows. Having them surround him brought up his hackles, but Andy had a good feel for how tough they were, and he knew his smoke was effective; if his plan failed, he wouldn’t be helpless.

“I’m here, Andy!” Enthian called from behind.

Andy turned, acting surprised. “Oh! Hey, Enthian.”

The Lurikeen smiled, reaching into his pouch to retrieve his little pipe as he carefully walked through the open gate in the dog park fence. “Have you decided to come out of your hidey-hole at last? Will you accept my offer of a banquet?”

Andy lowered his spear, twirling it between his hands with a bit of a flourish as he planted the butt into the soft, damp grass and then leaned on it. “I don’t think that’ll be necessary. I’m sure we can come to an agreement without any sort of debt between us.”

“My offer of a meal implies no debts!”

Andy smiled, glancing around the meadow, careful not to let his eyes linger on any of the eleven Lurikeens who were lurking around the perimeter. He was careful to ensure they all had that faint shimmering quality he’d earlier seen around Enthian, though, which convinced him they were trying to hide from him. “Oh, I’m sure not. Tell me, Enthian, where’s your clan? Do you keep them all hidden away in that airship of yours?”

“Oh, they’re good lads and lasses. We wouldn’t want to insult our gracious hosts to see us doing something inconsiderate—something they might not approve of.”

Andy nodded, smiling stupidly. “Very considerate.” He gestured to one of the large mesquites near where the System node used to be. He knew Lyta was in that one. “What do you think of these harpies?”

Enthian spat to the side, rubbing the spittle out of his beard as he said, “They’ll be hard to root out, but—” He grinned, sucked on his pipe, and blew several large, lazy rings into the air. “—I wouldn’t worry too much. I’d say their days are numbered.”

Andy tilted his head, narrowing his eyes. Did the little Lurikeen really think he was that clever? “Why’s that?”

“Oh, let’s just say misfortune has a way of finding the foes of the Fae!”

Andy nodded, rubbing his chin. If the Lurikeen thought he was an idiot, he figured he’d continue to play the part. “Wow! Glad I haven’t done anything to upset you all! Still, you won’t hurt them here, will you?”

“We? Oh, no! Lurikeens aren’t the violent sort.” He smiled and puffed his pipe again.

“Well, if we’re going to strike a deal for lumber, I figure I should know a bit more about you. Can we talk for a minute?”

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Enthian nodded, blowing a ring of smoke past Andy’s left shoulder.

“I’ve heard the Fae view debts differently from many humans; if you owed me something, you’d have to pay, right?”

“Oh, a debt unpaid is a dark mark against any Fae, aye.”

Andy nodded. “Well, that’s good to know. So you’ll recall that when we last spoke, I asked you not to chop down any of our trees.”

“Oh, aye, of course! And we haven’t, have we? No, so long as these are your lands, we’ll not take axe or saw to your dear trees.” He glanced to Andy’s right, smiling a knowing smile.

Andy was sure he was having an inside laugh with his watching clan mates, but he pretended the smile was for him, and smiled along. “Oh, that’s a relief. I’d hate to think you’re helping yourself to our property without permission. That would create quite a debt, wouldn’t it?”

“Oh? Hmm, well—”

“But your clan wouldn’t steal,

would they?”

“You said the trees, Andy. Was there something else—”

“Well, sure, the trees. But of course, that extends to the tree’s fruit. For, what do seeds from a tree become, Enthian, if not more trees?”

“Ah, well,” Enthian stammered, no longer looking half as sure as he had earlier, “are you trying to imply something? You can see for yourself that the trees still bear their fruit!”

“Right, right.” Andy nodded, looking around the clearing, studying the flowers up in the branches. “They certainly have a lot of blossoms on them.” It wasn’t lost on him that Enthian’s response hadn’t been an outright denial; he hadn’t lied yet. “So, you swear your kin haven’t taken seed or bloom?”

“You humans and your suspicion! Come, Andy, let us speak of friendlier topics.”

Andy nodded, smiling. He’d seen enough. It was clear to him that the Lurikeen couldn’t or wouldn’t lie. He cleared his throat, lifting his spear up onto his shoulder again, as—perhaps a bit louder than he needed to—he said, “Well, shall we make a bargain?” He felt some significant relief when one of the harpies in the tree where Lyta perched, flew out of the top branches and away.

Enthian regarded him shrewdly, tapping his pipestem against his teeth. “You’ll trade away one of your trees?”

“Sure, if the price is right.”

“What’s that price?”

“Well, I’ll trade you two magical trees, of my choosing, in exchange for a vow of peace and a promise to speak highly of us to your Fae kinfolk—friendly and unfriendly. I don’t ever want my community to come under threat from the Fae through any act of yours, deliberate or not.”

“Oh, that’s a tall—”

Enthian was interrupted by the shrill squawks of a harpy as it flew into the clearing, tumbling through the air to smash into the branches of the big mesquite. Some of the other harpies caught it and then it cried out, “Little red monsters! They ate Tresha!”

Andy tilted his head, chuckling. “Man, that harpy sounds upset. Any idea what it’s saying?”

Enthian, his face aglow with mirth, turned to regard him. “Oh, something very upsetting to a harpy, I suppose.” He stepped forward and put a hand on Andy’s arm, turning him away from the panicking harpies. “Don’t trouble yourself with the screeches of the savage creatures.”

Andy watched the harpies for a minute, struggling to play dumb. He wanted to laugh at their theatrics; who knew the feathered creatures could act so well! Half the harpies flew out of their trees, screeching in tremulous voices about seeking safety. After a moment, Lyta buffeted the panicked harpy with her wings, her shrill voice crying, “Enough! Let the land-walkers deal with it, then! You shouldn’t have been rooting around down there, anyway!”

As quiet descended, he turned back to Enthian and shrugged. “Well, I guess that’s over. So? Do we have a deal? Two trees for a promise of peace?”

The Lurikeen grinned and shrugged. “I see no reason to hold out. How’s this for an oath: I, Enthian, leader of my clan, swear that, henceforth, we shall not harm the people of this mesa, nor will we speak ill of them to other Fae. Only high praise will leave these lips, so long as your people live!”

Andy smiled, holding out a hand. Enthian looked at it for a moment, then took his hand in a firm grip, though his fingers struggled to encompass Andy’s palm. “And I, Andy, leader of the Mesquite Mesa Settlement, promise to provide you with two magical trees—of my choosing.”

Enthian shrugged, still grinning slyly. “Fair’s fair, though I fear you won’t be in any position to choose much of anything soon.”

Andy arched an eyebrow, releasing the little man’s hand. “Oh?” He tilted his head toward Lyta and her harpy sisters. “Lyta? Did you hear our oaths?”

She shrieked inarticulately, dropping out of the tree, fluttering her wings to slow her fall. Enthian looked from Andy to Lyta, scowling as his face twisted through a series of expressions that were plain to read: confusion, amusement, and burgeoning anger.

“What’s going on here?”

“Lyta?” Andy prodded.

“I heard!” she cried. “I heard the little man make his promise, and I heard you promise two trees!”

“Well, so, you conspire with the vile creatures,” Enthian spat again. “It won’t matter. Long before our promises, my kin summoned the Redcaps! Your harpy friends already know the horror…” He trailed off as more and more of the harpies flew into the clearing. None of them seemed panicked anymore.

“I’m afraid your Redcap friends won’t be joining us,” Andy said. “I’m sorry about your kin—the ones you sent down the mountain to summon the monsters—but let’s just call it the price of stealing from my settlement and plotting its destruction.”

“My k-kin?” Enthian’s face purpled with fury as he clenched his fists and backed away. “You murdered them? We’ll kill you all!”

Andy held up a finger. “Remember your promise, Enthian. I’d hate to see you suffer whatever fate befalls the Fae when they break one.” He turned, regarding the encroaching Lurikeens. “You all should think twice about violence. You think I haven’t prepared for treachery?” They stopped in their tracks, though one of the little archers panicked and shot an arrow into the damp grass. Andy whirled, leveling his spear at Enthian. “Do I interpret that as an attack?”

“N-no! Dremia just panicked, that’s all! Her fingers slipped!”

“Tis true!” the Lurikeen woman cried. “I meant no harm with that arrow!”

All around them the harpies squawked and clawed at the grass with their talons, their wings rustling as they wriggled in anticipation of violence. “They look so sweet, Andy! Let us dine on tender meats today!” Lyta cried.

Andy held up a hand, shaking his head. “Enthian, do you acknowledge the deal you made with me? Do you understand it was witnessed by many, including your own kin?”

The Lurikeen’s eyes were cold, his posture stiff, as he looked from Andy to the harpies. “These creatures don’t—”

“These creatures are citizens of this settlement. Use respect when you speak about them.”

Enthian shuddered, looking up at Andy. “Fine. Our deal stands, and I’ll follow it to the letter. Now, which two trees might we cut? We’ve repairs to make.”

Andy nodded. “Choose your workers. I’ll guide you down the path to our Whisperwood Grove. You’ll have two of those trees.”

“What? Treachery!”

Andy smirked. “There’s no treachery here, Enthian. Like you, I spoke only the truth. Those trees are magical, and two of them will suit your needs.”

Enthian only grumbled, his jaw clenched tight, and Andy shrugged, pointing toward the trailhead. “Try to keep up. My people are expecting word, so I’ll be moving quickly.”

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