2: Of Exploration

Niamh awoke with a start.

Sunlight filtered through the high glass windows set into the stone wall of her room at the Duskcat Inn. A knock rapped into the morning quiet, followed by the sound of footsteps retreating. Shivering, she threw off the soft quilt and quickly padded barefoot across the cold flagstones. An envelope lay at her feet, shoved under the door.

She backed slowly toward her leather belt lying on the nightstand, never taking her eyes off the innocent-looking envelope. Hand on the dagger’s hilt, breath quiet and quick, she eased the door open—only to find a covered tray awaiting her.

Warm scents of breakfast flooded the doorway, chasing away her initial unease. Niamh peered around before bringing the tray into her room. Of course it was just food—Melwyn had told her to expect a full breakfast brought right to her door. She doubled back and stared at the envelope resting innocently on the floor, heart still quickened. Bending to pick it up, she recognized the familiar wax seal and exhaled a sigh of relief.

Keleth. Of course, they had already reached out. She retreated to her bed and tucked her feet underneath her, breaking the seal hurriedly.

Sparrow, I see you’ve made it in one piece, and that everything is in place. You’re in good hands with your new captain and his goodwill ambassador. You can trust them both with your life. That said, keep your eyes sharp. Watch for signs of corruption, cultists, or bandits, and people who might not be what they seem. Notify Captain Hawke right away, and he will send the word out for any needed reinforcements. Stay vigilant. Stay safe.

Niamh folded the parchment, heart still fluttering from a mix of relief and anxiety. Her Ivory Order contact’s reassurance had swept away some worries, but replaced them with clearer, sharper ones. Corruption, cultists, bandits… the mission had always been serious, but now the stakes felt suddenly immediate, tangible.

Much work was ahead of her. Careful work, with repercussions for the safety of their land. She sighed, slipping the letter into a pouch on her belt. She didn’t have time for worry, only breakfast and then the matters at hand. Touring Easthaven and getting prepared were all she needed to think about.

Two savory pastries with tea later, Niamh descended the stairs, fully dressed, cloak pulled tight over her traveling clothes, ready for more unseasonable chill. Melwyn greeted her with a wave from behind the bar.

“You’re just in time,” Melwyn said warmly, drying a stack of ceramic mugs with his checkered towel. “Your guide was asking after you. Sure seems eager to show you around.”

Jeron ambled up to the bar, eyes bright, face alight with a grin that sent unexpected warmth through Niamh’s chest. “Good morning, Valiant Starsong. It’s a fine day out, with not a snowflake in sight. Ready for my famous grand tour?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Niamh replied, a smile tugging at her own lips despite herself. There was something deeply reassuring about Jeron’s simple confidence.

“Delighted to hear it,” Jeron said, spreading his arms exuberantly.

Niamh nodded. “I am ready when you are. And thanks for everything, Melwyn,” she added before pulling her cloak’s hood over her ears.

Stepping out of the Duskcat Inn with Jeron at her side, Niamh breathed in the crisp morning air. The cold bite of last night’s snow and ice was gone, leaving behind fresh chilly breezes scented with wet loam, wood smoke, and a smell Niamh would know anywhere, even in a strange city. Freshly baked bread, homely and enticing.

The market square hummed with cheerful voices, lines of colorful stalls already drawing townsfolk. A-rhythmic tings of metal signaled a blacksmith nearby, and the delighted squeals of two young children lobbing balls of leftover snow at each other echoed down the sidewalk.

“I don’t know what I was expecting. This city is, well,” Niamh paused, not sure how to phrase what she wanted to say.

“Friendlier than you expected?” Jeron turned to look at her, a knowing glint in his eyes. He was a big man, broad but comfortable, and Niamh found it difficult to be tense as she walked next to him.

“I wasn’t sure how to say it without sounding impolite, but yes. It’s much nicer here than I thought it would be,” she replied, allowing warmth into the words.

Jeron nodded thoughtfully, taking in the surrounding activity with alert green eyes. “There are of course parts of Easthaven that are far less friendly, but I think you’ll find that’s the case in any city. I’ll tell you about those places, and other things as we go. Come, we’ll get you set up faster if we take the Gold Portal,” Jeron said, pressing his hand to Niamh’s elbow.

She angled a quick glance up at him, face warming at the gesture.

“Lead the way,” she said and followed Jeron through increasingly busy streets. There was so much to take in. The architecture was sturdy, with more stone and slate than anything in the Beechwoods. Everywhere she looked were market stalls and shops, and subtle signs of magic woven throughout. Here and there were little mageworked carts hauling mercantile goods, sign-boards enchanted to look as if they were shimmering, or lights in shop windows that shone with leymagical reactions.

As if widespread, every day leymagic wasn’t enough, there were the famed civic-use portals of Easthaven, said to rival only those in Empyrea. She’d been told that portals to anywhere and everywhere in the city were the crowning achievement of Easthaven’s magical amenities. Transportive leymagic that, for a mere pittance for the cheapest, would send you across the sprawling city in an instant.

“Here we are,” Jeron said, stopping at a series of large, elevated platforms set in the middle of an airy courtyard. Three platforms, to be exact, each with a different colored banner announcing its purpose and connecting location. “The Gold Portal costs more than the others, but we are on official expedition funding for the day.”

“I’m honored,” Niamh quipped, but did not hide her interest as she took in the scene before her. A gleaming, gold-painted awning covered a short ramp leading to a simple archway of sturdy wood. She recognized the portal mechanism—a crystal and Truesteel focus—set beneath the tall oval of opalescent, shimmering lights framed by the arch like a window reflecting sunlight and water. Superficially, it was like the portals she had used here and there in her travels, but much grander than the few portal-equipped outposts scattered through Sylvania.

“We’re the ones honored to have you,” Jeron said and looked down at her, eyes crinkling against the sunlight sliding over the courtyard’s rooftops. “It sounds like we’re lucky to have you guarding us at the Northgate. The rumors about how you saved Ruvyn from full incursion have made it through the ranks of soldiers and leymages alike.”

“I wasn’t working alone.” Niamh looked away from him, heartbeat quickening at his frank appraisal. She might have been the one to scout the earliest signs of danger, but it had taken the entire detachment to fortify the town. “Many soldiers and scouts saved Ruvyn that day.”

“I understand,” Jeron said lightly, not pushing further.

Niamh turned back to the portals, scrambling to change the subject. “How are these types of portals different?”

“Power,” Jeron replied, moving to the new topic in his effortless way. “Gold portals use higher-quality focuses, with far more Truesteel to support them. They are stable enough to get you from one place to the next instantly. The others, you get to spend a little more time in the in-between place. It can be off-putting, but it’s only a real problem if you’ve got a tendency toward seasickness.”

“I don’t think I do. I don’t mind taking the cheaper one,” Niamh said.

“I was told to offer every convenience, and to be quick, so Gold it is. Two, please,” he said as they approached the portal attendant, offering a handful of coins. The attendant, a woman wearing a special tabard embroidered with a golden oval, instructed them to step through one at a time.

“You first, Niamh,” he said with another of those light brushes against her arm, and Niamh stepped through a swirl of warmth and radiance, emerging into an unfamiliar part of the city. She blinked, taking in the sight of reinforced and crenelated walls, guard towers, and solemn, martial statues flanked by patches of early spring greenery.

“Welcome to the Garrison District,” Jeron said, stepping down from the portal platform to join her. “And oh look, here’s our first trouble of the day.”

“Trouble?” Niamh asked, tilting her head in confusion.

“Absolutely trouble,” a woman said, stepping apart from the stream of nearby foot traffic.

A strangely familiar-looking woman, Niamh realized. “I saw you. Last night, as I walked into the Duskcat.” She observed the stranger’s armor, warm brown eyes, and dark hair braided into neat, uniform plaits. Last night she’d been wearing a plumed helm, which today the woman held under one arm.

“This is Moya Anders,” Jeron said warmly, nodding toward the newcomer and another woman who had joined her, this one a white-haired wisp of a human in green Mageguild robes. “And Senior Sage Kate Smithson. Both of them will join us on the Northgate Expedition.”

Moya offered Niamh a smart salute then grinned mischievously, eyes bright. She stepped forward, extending a strong, friendly hand toward Niamh. “I’m sorry I blocked the door last night, but I had the solemn duty of taunting some friends who’d had a little too much ale. It’s good to meet you, Niamh. Especially since Jeron couldn’t stop talking about you at our morning check-in.”

Jeron flushed slightly, grumbling good-naturedly. “I merely mentioned we had a new guest from Sylvania, and that her credentials are most impressive.”

“Ah yes, the ‘most impressive’ part you repeated at least three times,” added the older woman beside Moya, her rich alto voice warm with amusement. Her keen blue eyes settled on Niamh. “I’m looking forward to hearing more about how things are in Sylvania these days.”

“Well met, Moya and Kate. I’ll be happy to give you the latest Sylvan news. And,” Niamh paused, a memory resurfacing. “Sage Kate, you were at the Duskcat too. Talking to a young Sionnach girl,” she said, remembering the fox-kin smacking the older woman with her bushy red tail.

“Just call me Kate, please. And yes, that was Jeron’s apprentice. You’ll meet Rexi soon enough. She’s a handful, but in the best way.”

Moya chuckled. “She keeps this one on his toes, that’s for sure.” The tall woman elbowed Jeron affectionately.

“Niamh, you’re meeting these two because you’ll be working with them closely during the expedition,” Jeron explained. “Kate oversees the duty rotation for the Sages, and Moya coordinates watches for the more experienced Valiants.”

“We herd cats,” Moya interjected with a chuckle.

“Herd cats?” Niamh asked, confused.

Kate clarified, “Both of us have the challenging task of creating order out of chaos.”

“I like that. I’m going to keep that one,” Niamh said quietly, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“Oh, she has plenty of keepers,” Jeron muttered. “Only some of which you can use in polite society.”

“He’s joking,” Moya said. “You’re joking, right, big guy?”

Jeron dodged the question, pointing toward a market area past a small park, away from the walled garrison. “With introductions out of the way, it’s a fine day in our bustling city. Ladies, what do you say we make the rounds and spend someone else’s money?”

“I’ll spend anyone’s money, anytime,” Moya laughed.

“And I’ll be right at your side to make sure you get a good deal,” Kate added, voice dry.

“I look forward to it.” Niamh nodded, a hesitant warmth fluttering in her heart. She risked a glance at Jeron, who met her gaze and smiled back reassuringly. Something soft and unspoken passed between them, warmth moving from her heart to her cheeks.

Perhaps Easthaven would feel more like home sooner than she’d expected. And, Source willing, this assignment would be simpler than she’d hoped. Something slithered through her instincts, a cool shadow against the warm morning. Niamh forced it away, squaring her shoulders decisively.

The Ivory Order had prepared her for anything, and these people deserved every bit of strength she could give them. Even though she’d just met them, she knew this to be true. And those same instincts told her that no matter what waited for her at the Northgate, she’d be ready.