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his head, then crossed to the woman. After a quick back and forth, she bowed to Nowak, her left hand covering her chest. Summers saw Asle return the gesture, so they followed in kind.

As he lifted his head, he saw Synel watching him intently. She turned to Asle and asked her something. Asle gestured to Summers and said his name. He supposed this was about as much of an introduction as he was going to get. Her eyes lingered on him a moment before she turned to leave.

She didn’t seem happy. Even through her mask of indifference, that much was obvious. Good, that meant they at least weren’t getting ripped off.

 <<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

Apparently, stones were metallic triangles with rounded edges. They were even larger than every other denomination Summers had come across. And true to their name, they felt like the kinds of stones you’d use to skip on a lake.

The group had stayed in the barn at Ms. Synel’s request. It didn’t take long before she’d delivered on the short list of goods they’d given her. And she had very much delivered.

“At least a hundred days’ worth of food, and that’s if we don’t ration it,” Cortez had concluded.

“Huh . . .”

There were crates stacked three high in the back of their wagon, each filled to the brim with travel supplies. Clothes, blankets, mundane tools. They had everything they needed. Summers had had to move the crap they’d gotten from the bandits to the floor of the barn. They had completely restocked their supplies and then some, probably enough to last them all the way to Nevada. All with a single stone.

And they still had seven left.

They were going to need to do some shopping.

Chapter 10: Dinner Date

Summers sat up on the furs that lined their rented room. The inn, while not being the most expensive in town, was more than enough for the tired group’s needs. Although elves apparently had different tastes than Summers would have expected. The “bed” was nothing more than a pile of pelts that the group had been sharing. The only other amenities were a table, a mirror, two basins of water, and a chest. All in all, Summers had stayed in worse places, and it was easy to fall asleep after fourteen hours of guard detail.

He got dressed. They’d managed to find something a little more in line with local fashion in the clothes Ms. Synel had sold them, with something akin to a balaclava for their faces.

It was nice not having to lug around thirty pounds of armor for once. The leather armor wasn’t much better than Kevlar, either. If it wasn’t winter, they’d have died of heatstroke traveling as they were.

As he stepped downstairs, he found Nowak and Asle fresh in from their trip to the market.

“So, what’s the damage?”

Nowak tossed a full pack onto a nearby table. “Down to five stone. From what Asle and I could figure out, that should be plenty to charter a ship, even on our own.”

“Don’t suppose they had anything we could use? Wands? Magic armor?”

“No such luck. We did manage to get some books on language, hand made. Though most look like they’re meant for kids. I figured we shouldn’t rely on Asle forever.” Nowak sat, letting out a breath.

“I speak better than you,” Asle insisted.

“Yes, you do. But you can’t be with all of us all of the time.” Nowak laid a hand on the girl’s head. “I got a couple maps as well, proper ones. They were expensive sons of a bitches, too. Let’s see . . .”

Nowak dug into the pack, placing a few items on the table.

“This is incense that’s supposed to keep critters away. Not sure how well it works, but Asle says she’s seen it used before with the 63rd. So, we’ll give it a shot.” He placed a single bottle in front of Summers. “I thought you’d be interested in this.”

He pushed the bottle toward Summers. It was filled with clear liquid.

“What is it?”

“They bottle the fog. It’s water from some spring. Near as we can figure, it’s like synthetic adrenaline. A big reason why the town’s here is so can they ship this stuff all over.”

“They mention anything else. Side effects?”

“You still feeling off?” Nowak looked at Summers with concern.

“I’m good,” Summers lied. “I’d just like to know if my heart’s going to explode any time soon. I had a lot more than a bottle.”

“I don’t know about that, if this is from that spring, it’s concentrated. And by the price, I don’t think it’s something they use lightly. I only bought this bottle to get the info out of the trader. Supposedly, it makes you stronger, faster, and immune to pain. Other than that, no.”

Summers didn’t believe for a second that something like this didn’t have lasting effects. But the very fact that it wasn’t common knowledge meant that it was either something the merchants didn’t want to spread, or the people who used this sort of thing didn’t live long enough to experience them. Given what he was like when he’d fought those wolves, he was betting on the latter. Great.

The barmaid handed Summers a letter. He obviously couldn’t do anything with it, so Asle snatched it out of his hands.

“What’s it say?”

“Invitation.”

Summers waited for her to continue. She didn’t.

“Asle?”

“Ms. Synel wants to meet with you,” she finally replied.

He glanced down at the letter. There were only about two sentences there.

“Why did it take you so long to figure that out?”

“Don’t trust her. Merchants want something, always.” Asle kept reading. “Why is she inviting you?” She pointed a finger directly at Summers.

That was a good question, and it took a moment for Summers’ slow brain to come to the answer.

“Shit. Sorry, Sarge.

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