“Then it seems one of my questions is answered for now,” Siyon said. “And what of the other two?”

  “Eeehhhhhhh, that’s a little bit complicated. Basically, our circumstances have changed recently, so we’re actually not entirely sure what we’re going to do next, and that all connects back to why we came into the area in the first place.” Tove took a long, slow breath in through her nose, held it in thought for a few moments, and then let it out.

  “This is where things all get a bit strange,” she began. “It began when we were sent on a sort of ‘diplomatic mission’ to Khan Rotun, and-”

  “So you do have some business with him then,” Siyon challenged, his voice hardening.

  “Well, not really. Or only kind of. We don’t on any kind of personal level, we don’t even know who he is. But the people who sent us-”

  “And who was that?” Tamira asked, jumping in over Tove again.

  Tove looked at Nalfis before speaking, to which he replied with a slight shrug and a nod, silently giving her permission to answer however she felt best. Indecision briefly warred across her face, but she ultimately sighed in a resolved fashion.

  “In for copper, in for gold,” she muttered, before speaking up. “It was the King of Elvenden.” A chorus of murmurs followed her declaration.

  “Do you mean that the Elves sent 2 Dwarves, a Ljósálfar (eh?), and a human child as their ‘diplomatic mission’?” Tamira asked, an eyebrow raised in doubt.

  “Indy wasn’t included in this, and there was another Elf to begin with but aside from that, yep. I don’t think the Elves cared much about making a good impression anyway, and as far as they’re concerned we were available, disposable, and deniable.”

  “What do you mean ‘deniable’?”

  “I mean that the Elves want to kill the Khan, and they wanted us to do it.”

  There had been some murmuring before, which I expected to continue, but now there was just silence. I’d say it was a great deal more unnerving, and I was feeling increasingly in the spotlight. There was an energy I couldn’t read sweeping around us, and it felt like we were on a knife-edge. I guess that should be expected when you meet some people and tell them that their neighbours want to kill one of the main rulers of your race, and by the way we’re the sword they want to swing. Talk about awkward.

  “They’re not going to do it, though,” I said. Someone had to say it. “They were being coerced, but the leverage the Elves had over them-” I paused for a second, “well it’s not gone, but it’s sort of a moot point now.” Everyone was looking at me now, and I shuffled nervously as I looked around. “It’s not like they, or I guess we, are assassins. There’s literally no reason for us to do this. I just want to go back to my studies, and I think everyone else just wants to be off the hook.” There wasn’t much more to be added without getting involved with things I couldn’t adequately explain, so I zipped my lips and waited quietly. Tamira did her spooky ‘staring deep into your soul’ thing again, mostly looking at me this time, and it was just as scary as the first time. I was telling the truth, so I wasn’t so much scared of being caught lying as I was either of her not believing me, or them deciding that wasn’t a good enough explanation.

  “I think,” she said, slowly, “that further conversation might be required on this; and that here-” she gestured at the huge wall of darkness just behind us, “-is not the best place for it. Nor do I think it is the best place for your companion to recover. I propose that you return to Dun Fola with us, where you can rest, we can provide our aid in taking care of him, and when all are ready we can get to the heart of this matter in consultation with our leader. Does everyone find that agreeable?”

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  She was looking at the other Centaurs as much as she was us, clearly trying to gauge reactions. There was no good reason we’d have for refusing, so we chorused our acceptance, while their side also agreed, though with varying degrees of enthusiasm. Still, a consensus had been reached.

  Almost immediately, I felt a large pair of hands clasp me under my armpits, and I was hoisted with remarkable ease and speed by Siyon, and swung around onto his back.

  “Can you ride?” he asked me.

  “Um… no.”

  “Hm,” he grunted. “Then I’m not sure which of us this will be less pleasant for.” The others were also mounting up, with Tove being lifted much like I was, but Nalfis apparently being trusted (or I guess just tall enough) to get on himself. There was a bit of discussion on how to bring Alf along, and they decided to just rotate who was carrying him. They very kindly grabbed our various bags, which sparked a thought.

  “Hey Siyon,” he turned to look at me. “Could I try holding on like a pack?”

  He thought for a moment, then shrugged. “As long as you don’t strangle me,” he said.

  “I’ll do my best,” I grinned. I scrambled forwards, linking my arms around his chest, and wrapping my legs around his… other chest? Terminology gets weird when you’re talking about something that has two types of body. He put his hands under my thighs to keep me supported, and we all set off. It turned out that Nalfis was a confident rider, even without any of the gear, and Tove was riding side-saddle. It was actually surprisingly comfortable, all told. Centaurs have a much smoother “ambling” style of walking compared to most other horses or horse-like things, which made it a much more pleasant ride. Siyon was also strong enough to carry me without any apparent complaint, so other than a few snippets of conversation, our journey passed without interruption until it started to get dark a few hours later.

  Given that this was only a few hours after we’d woken up ourselves, it was clear we’d slept into the afternoon. That would normally be enough to completely screw up my body clock, but I was still fatigued enough that I was genuinely looking forward to the prospect of going back to bed. The plains of Denofell didn’t offer much by way of interesting scenery or major geographical features, so the group just picked a random spot as dusk set in, and stopped there. I jumped down off Siyon’s back, giving a quick thanks as I did.

  “How much further is it?” I asked him.

  “Not far,” he said, “probably another few hours. We’ll set off again at daybreak, there’s no point continuing into the night just to end up exhausted.” It was a good enough explanation for me. I spent a few minutes stretching off the stiffness that had set in while I was being carried, watching the Centaurs as they settled down. They weren’t bothering with fire or tents, apparently content with blankets. I guess in a place where wood is this scarce you wouldn’t want to waste it needlessly; and they, like pretty much every other race, had way better night-vision than humans. Sometimes it felt like there was this divine conspiracy rigged against us, but to be fair we’d probably been shitty enough historically to not deserve it.

  I got my bedroll out, but left the tent stowed. Probably out of a desire to conform. The night was cold and clear, with stars appearing as dusk faded to night. Nalfis had gone straight to bed, while Alf still hadn’t really woken up. Tove, however, had wandered a short distance off, and was lying on the ground, staring up at the sky. She was almost completely hidden by the tall grass, visible mostly by the glowing beads she was holding above herself. She’d twist them into one shape, pulled taut around her fingers, then move them somewhere else and reconfigure it.

  It was only now, seeing them glow in this peaceful darkness, that I really twigged that these were stars. Each abstract pattern a constellation, each stone glowing or dimming as needed. It was hypnotic, but before I could make up my mind to go over, I saw the form of Tamina, recognisable by her white hair even in this light, heading that way. She made no more noise than the wind as she walked through the grass, before sitting down next to Tove. Her posture indicated they were talking, quietly enough that I couldn’t overhear (not that I was trying).

  In all honesty, Tamira still scared me just enough that I didn’t fancy joining them. Resolving to ask Tove about her star-string some other time, I went back to my bedroll, and turned in for the night.

  Sammy xx