Callan and Setia finished loading the wagon and drove it back to camp. Tallis sat and said little during the drive. His mind was awash with terror and drowned in blood.

They pulled up next to their campsite and Callan spoke with the summer Fae. Crates were unloaded from the back of the wagon. Goods changed hands, and everyone seemed to leave happy. With their debt to Summer satisfied, they collected Phaethon and pressed on back to the cottage trees. They arrived in the middle of the night weary and beleaguered. The horses had been worked to a lather and they all seemed grateful to have their harnesses removed. Tallis walked them through the fields until they had cooled down and then collected a grooming kit from the wagon and gave each of them a good brushing. He was tired to his core but every time he blinked a fresh death flashed before his eyes.

He dared not sleep.

Valerie found him by a pond in the early hours of the morning. Tallis had nearly scrubbed himself raw but no matter what he did, he didn't feel clean. At least the stains had come out of his clothes, there must have been some kind of magic there that kept them clean.

"Tallis," said Valerie, keeping his voice low and gentle. "Have you slept yet? Have you had anything to eat?"

He shook his head. "Been too busy. Too much to do."

"Well I can relate to that, but you look like you've been all whiskey and no stew, partner."

"I wish we had some whiskey. Might help."

She held a flask out to him. "It's not good stuff. Proper gut rot, but I have little."

He took the flask and drained it. He passed it back, coughing. "That shit is awful."

"At least it's cheap." She took the flask back with a shrug and set a cloth bundle down. "We baked some oatcakes if you want them. And Aragam is awake if you want to see him."

"Be there in a second."

She left him alone with the oat cakes and he sat in the cold water, lost. He had no business being wrapped up in this. It was time to admit he was in over his head. It was time to go home. He climbed out of the pond and got dressed, taking the bundle of oat cakes with him back to the cottages.

A campfire cracked among the trees and the lingering smell of cakes and flapjacks clung to the air. Jovial snippets of conversation drifted on the morning breeze, filling Tallis a dull ache of homesickness. He missed mornings with his parents. There were a blessed few minutes of peace at the beginning of each day, a sliver of time between breakfast and the day's chores where there was just nothing. There was quiet. There was a lot of joy in those quiet moments.

Tallis pulled up a log and slipped into the group.

"Tallis," came a hoarse voice. "Good to see you made it." Aragam was seated closest to the fire with a heavy robe around his shoulders. “And glad to see you found some proper clothes, eh? You look good.”

He wished he felt as good as he supposedly looked. “I'm glad you’re up.”

“We’re made of tough stuff, yeah? The change of season helps too. The closer we get to winter the easier things get. I’m just glad I didn’t get staked in July. I’d have been done for.”

"We should be ready to move soon," said Valerie. “We just need to pack up camp.”

“Sounds good to me,” said Tallis, taking the cakes out of the bundle. It almost made it all worth it. Soon he’d be home. He’d be with his family and they would all be safe. That’s all he needed.

“What’s our plan for this wagon load of junk we’ve been saddled with?” asked Setia.

“Could sell it,” Valerie answered. “There’s a big market on in Tuath Den. There’s a guild post and a link to the other side there too. It’s as good a place as any.”

The Faerunners hopped up and got to work, packing their possessions and loading them into the wagon. In short order the camp was packed up and Tallis found himself riding shotgun on the stolen wagon again. Callan stopped by the firepit and left a small sack of food behind before climbing into the driver’s seat and taking the reins.

He caught Tallis eyeing the bag and answered his question before he could ask it. “We’re close to the border between Summer and Winter, and the little camps are a common stopping place for travelers. The Summer Fae are waning, and I know that if I were traveling at the low point of my power, a little gift like that would go a long way toward lifting my spirits.”

“Makes sense to me,” he said. “I hope it does some good. I, uh, I don’t know how to say this.” He heaved a long sigh. “I just feel like we’ve done a lot of bad since yesterday.”

The wagon lurched into motion and rolled gently through the forest, heading towards the sunrise. “I know it’s hard,” said Callan. “It’s never an easy thing to fight and take lives, but those men deserved it.”

“Can we really be so quick to deal out death and judgement though? I thought we were supposed to help people.”

“Sometimes you help people by doing good things for them, and sometimes you do it by killing the ones who would do them harm. Both ways help.”

They talked as the wagon rolled on. Their road was easy and the weather was pleasant. A soft breeze kissed the trees, crisp, damp, and heavy with the promise of frost. Winter was on its way but something on the wind whispered that it would be an easy one. Callan was a good listener and even though he might not have agreed with everything Tallis said, he didn’t argue, and as the hours ticked by, Tallis started to feel a little better. When the conversation ran its course they drove on in silence, but not an awkward silence. It was a soft companionable silence. If he ever ended up lost in the Faelands again, he knew who he’d want with him.

Callan pulled the horses to a stop and sniffed at the air.

Valerie rode up next to him. "Trouble?" she asked.

"I am not sure."  Callan reached into a coat pocket and drew a square slender pistol like the one the army captain had used. It looked too small in his huge hands. He scowled at the gun and set it down, snatching the revolver from Tallis' holster. He hopped down from the wagon and crept forward.

"Stay here and watch our stuff," Valerie ordered before dismounting and following Callan.

Tallis picked up the pistol from the driver's seat as Setia pulled her cart up next to him. Aragam was laid out in the back, covered up with a thick fur robe. He turned the gun over his hands. "How's this one work?"

Setia shrugged. "Never used one before.  But I imagine it's just point and click. nothing crazy."

A howl of rage and pain tore through the forest. Both Tallis and Setia jumped to the ground and took off towards the noise at a dead sprint. Tallis turned back towards the cart. "Phaethon," he shouted. "Take care of Aragam."

The elemental snorted.

The ground beneath their feet changed slowly from soft grass to beaten, packed earth, And the smell of wood smoke and char drifte on the air. The wail sounded again. Lungs burning, Tallis staggered to a halt and bent over, placing his hands on his knees. A choking smoke sat low to the ground, clinging to the black and twisted skeletons of the Trees around them. He pulled his bandanna up over his nose and staggered forward through the smoke. The blackened trees gave way to broken stumps and then to flat, scorched earth.

Callan sat in the center of the devastation, knee deep in ash and cradling a blackened skeleton. Tears rolled down his cheeks, carving furrows through the soot. Tallis knelt next to him. The corpse in his hands was small. A child. Tallis picked up a handful of dirt and sifted through the ash. Bits of crimson glinted among the black.

"There's redstone here," he said. "If I had to guess, I would say there were more than a few spellcasters here."

Valerie put a hand on Callan' shoulder. He dropped the body.

Tallis squinted out at the devastation. "What was this place?"

"It used to be a village," said Valerie.

"Did anyone make it out?" Callan asked. "Did anyone survive?"

She shook her head. "It looks like most people holed up in the central tree. They didn't make it."

"Why?" Callan asked. He looked at Tallis. His eyes were wide and wild and a note of panic entered his voice. "Why? Why did this happen?"

Tallis stood and looked at Valerie. "Take me to the bodies, please. Setia, could you stay with him?"

Valerie nodded towards the burnt remains of a once massive tree and led him to the charred roots. "They're in here."

A root arched up from the earth forming a short doorway. Tallis bent under it and stepped down The earthen ramp that led below the tree. He gagged on the cloying scent of burnt hair and charred meat. The scene inside the hollow was enough to drive anyone mad. Black and twisted bodies lay wrapped around each other in a macabre embrace.

"Okay," he whispered. "I'll lose my mind tomorrow." With a deep breath he pulled the first two bodies apart. More redstone sprinkled the ashes at their feet. Tallis crouched down amid the corpses, squinting at the ground. "Valerie?" he called out. "Could you bring me a light?"

She came down with a lit whitestone clenched in her fist. "Gods," she said. "What kind of monster would do this?"

Tallis took the stone from her and held it low to the ground, shining it over a boot print in the ash. "I don't think a monster did this, not a literal one anyway." He stepped over to the next body and leaned close to iit. A hole had been punched through its forehead. Carefully he turned the body's head and shone the light in the back of its skull. There was a larger corresponding hole there.

"Look at this, Val," he said.

She took a hammer shaped pendant from around her neck and Held it out in front of her like a shield. "Truth be told, I'd rather not."

"Humour me. These people were shot." He pointed to the holes in the skull.

"Seems excessive doesn't it?"

He walked over to the next body. It was more of the same: burnt beyond recognition, one bullet hole through the head. "My real question is: was someone double checking their work or trying to clean up their mess?"

He led her back up into the comparatively fresher air outside and scanned the ground in front of the entrance. There was a scuff in the ash that might have been a set of tracks. They led away from the entrance. He followed them but stopped after a few steps, bending to pick up a glint of brass peeking up from the blackened ground.

"There are shell casings here," he said, brushing the ash away to reveal a pile of five more shells. He shuffled forward a step, finding more tracks.

The next piece of the puzzle was another body, shot through the chest multiple times and just as burned as the others. The corpse's companions were laid out next to it, still holding rifles warped by the heat. None of this answered much of anything though. Tallis stood and placed his hands on his hips, thinking, when a soft snap broke the morbid silence hanging over the battlefield.

Valerie perked up at the noise, and ran after it.

Tallis bit back a silent curse over all of the evidence she was trampling but followed her anyway. They wove through the blackened stumps Until they came to a scorched wagon resting by a stream. It was charred from the heat but still intact.

Valerie circled around the side of it, drawing a long clip pointed knife from her belt. There was a scuffle and a shout. Tallis ran around the side of the wagon to find her straddling a man in a soot stained army uniform, and pressing the blade of her knife to his throat.

"Wait," Tallis shouted. "He might be able to tell us what happened."

Valerie stood and hauled the man to his feet with one hand. "I think we can make that happen, can't we?"

The soldier was silent.

Valerie pressed the tip of her knife into the flesh under his chin. The soldier let out a pained squeak and a thin trickle of blood rolled down the knife. "Can't we?" she repeated.

"Okay, okay. I'll talk."

Tallis held up the shell casing he'd picked up and brushed the soot off it with his thumb. "You got a name soldier?"

"Miller. Corporal Miller."

"Well, I wish we could have met under better circumstances, Corporal Miller." Tallis looked Val in the eye. She was wild and he was sure she would kill him at a moment's notice. "Why don't we take the knife away from the good Corporal's throat? I know I wouldn't be able to say a word with a knife on my neck."

She growled but lowered the knife. "He makes one wrong move and I kill him."

A scene from a memory played in Tallis' mind: a sweltering summer day, a prisoner baking in interrogation, he and Allistair enjoying a cold drink in the office.

"Gettin' a man to talk ain't so different than moving a big old stone. You just need the right leverage, the right pressure. And he'll move wherever you want him to."

For Corporal Miller, fear seemed to be ththe right leverage for now.

"I've seen her do it, buddy," said Tallis. "It's not a good way to go." It was disgusting how much Allistair would have approved of his plan. "Let's take a short walk. You're up for a short walk aren't you Corporal? All you need to do is just listen, okay? And then we can all get out of here."

The soldier nodded and Tallis turned back towards the battlefield. "Here's what I see. You and your pals come here, why? Maybe some political mumbo jumbo that's seven leagues above your paygrade, I'm not sure how much the reason matters, but you'you're here and you find out you're not welcome." He pointed to the charred bodies laying on the ground. "A gunfight breaks out. People die." He bent and lifted one of the corpses. The back of the body was less burned than the front and an army uniform clung to the remains. "People die on both sides, and when the shooting stops I bet you were just so pissed off. Someone had to pay, right?"

“No, that’s not what happened,” Miller whined.

Tallis shot Valerie a hard look and gave her a nod. She drove a fist into the Corporal's ribs.

Tallis winked. “Val! Go easy on the guy. Gods, if he has an opinion he’s allowed to speak.” He put a hand on the Corporal’s shoulder, pulling him away from the big woman. “Are you sure? Because the evidence here tells a different story.” Tallis felt sick with himself for manipulating the soldier. He wasn’t any better than any of the other agents at Cold Iron, but one look at the carnage around him gave him all the reassurance he needed. Anyone who would do this didn’t deserve a fair and open discussion. They didn’t deserve to be spared a few bruises.

“So,” Tallis continued. “The fighting stops, your friends are dead. There’s finally a chance to stop and reload.” He pointed to the pile of shells at his feet. “Is your gun a .45, Miller?”

The soldier nodded, and Tallis tossed him the burnt shell he’d picked up. “I thought so. The clues here don’t lie, Miller. You’re practically knee deep in the dead, and you’re standing here with a freshly loaded pistol. What do you do next? You hear something from the ground below, right? The job’s not done yet, so you go underground.”

He gave another nod to Val and she dragged the soldier around the stump and kicked him behind the knees, spilling him to the ground. With a grunt, she booted him in the ribs and sent him tumbling down the ramp. She charged after him. Tallis  swallowed down the mix of fear, guilt and apprehension washing over him and lit a cigarette, doing his best to project a calm, self assured image. He walked down the ramp slowly, finding Miller on his knees at the bottom, eyes screwed shut and tears running down his cheeks. Tallis passed his new gun to Valerie, and mouthed the words “Don’t kill him” to her.

He took a long drag on his smoke and exhaled slowly. “Open your eyes, Miller,” he commanded.

The soldier shook his head, crying.

Valerie lifted the gun and pulled back a short bar at the rear of the gun. The metallic click-clack was loud and damning in the small space. Miller started and opened his eyes, staring panicked up at the weapon. 

“I’m glad we have your attention, Corporal,” he said, ice creeping into his voice. The more time he spent down here, the better he felt about intimidating the soldier. Anyone who could do this was a monster and they deserved to be treated as such. “This is where things get good. You come down this ramp and find more Fae huddled in here. These people just killed your buddies, right? And they don’t even have the good sense to come up and face what they’ve done.” He made a pistol shape with his thumb and forefinger and pressed it to the forehead of the first corpse. “So, you meet out justice. Again and again and again. Until everyone here is dead.” He sneered down at the man, and blew a cloud of smoke into his face. “Gods you really are sick, MIller. I’ve seen some degenerates in my time but you, Gods damn it, you deserve some kind of depraved award for how sick you are.” He waved his hand like he was painting a broad stroke across a canvas. “I can see the banners now. Corporal Miller: heartless bastard, murderer extraordinaire.”

“No!” Miller said. “It wasn’t me! That’s not what happened.”

“Then tell me what happened, Miller. Because if you didn’t murder these people and burn down their home then who did?”

Miller made a few stumbling syllables and then fell silent, his eyes dropping to the floor. He wasn’t going to talk. They had the leverage, now it was time to apply a little pressure, get the stone rolling.

Tallis turned away from the soldier, patted Valerie on the arm. “He’s not going to talk,” he kept his voice low, but not so low that the soldier couldn’t hear him. “Shoot him." He flicked the cigarette away and stepped calmly up the ramp.

“Wait,” said Miller. His voice wavered and Tallis could practically smell the yellow waves of fear rolling off of him. “Please wait. I’ll tell you anything you want.” 

It was Tallis’ turn to play the tough cop. He grabbed Miller by the collar and drug him up into the open air, throwing him down into a pile of ash. Valerie was right behind him, holding the gun on the soldier the whole time.

“Talk then,” he said. “Or we paint the dirt with your brains.”

“Okay,” Miller stammered. “Okay. It wasn’t me. It was this liaison from Cold Iron we had with us. Real mean son of a whore with one arm. We were just coming to back up the agency as they made some arrests. I don’t know, someone up top thought a show of force would keep the Faerunners in line. Well, when we get here there’s tons of ‘em and they are not happy. I didn’t hear anything but this agent yells shots fired or guns or something and he just starts blasting. We all join in. It’s like instinct, you know? We didn’t think, just fired.” He paused and looked over the burned field around him. “Maybe we should have held off. I don’t know what happened then. The Cold Iron guy threw down some kind of stone and it started smokin’ but then it started burnin’ and the whole place went up. Whatever magic they had here didn’t agree with the fire." The corporal paused again and wiped away a tear. “When it all ended the agent found the people trapped under the tree. They were burned so bad. Some of them were already dead. And he just took out his gun and he looked at me, and do you know what he did? He smiled. He smiled and said it was time to clean up the mess and he went in and just started shooting. Dead, live, men, women, didn’t matter. He wanted to be sure. He wanted to be sure no one survived. And when it’s all done, he lights a smoke and looks me dead in the eyes, still smiling and says ‘there, that’ll send the right message.’ and he just left.”

Tallis grit his teeth and stomped down on the fires of fury flaring inside of him. “Did this agent say where he was going?”

“Some weird place with a stupid name. Tarth Deem or something.”

“Tuath Den?” Valerie suggested.

“That’s the one. Said he had another example to make.”

“Corporal,” said Tallis. “You’ve saved your own miserable life. Get out of here before I change my mind.”

The soldier scurried away as fast as he was able and Tallis turned to Valerie. “This can’t be allowed to happen again,” he said, waving a hand over the burnt village. “I won’t let it.”

She answered with a grunt and a nod.

“I think you guys are stuck with me,” said Tallis. “If I can help stop this, then I will. I want to help.”

“There isn’t much in the world right about now that would make me happier,” she said, smiling. “Welcome to the crew.”