The bustling inn offered little chance for intimate catch-ups, however—even his promised one with Honey. Ainsworth thought he might spend a night or two resting before taking on the journey, but as he spent two days in a row rushing between tables alongside Quiddle and Honey and helping out Alvea in the kitchen, he wondered if setting out on his Mount Vengeance quest immediately might have been less strenuous than the demands of hospitality. The guests in the evening were so rowdy they kept Honey, Ashe, and Bren performing into the wee hours. Ainsworth joined in the dancing, laughing alongside his friends and exchanging stolen glances with Honey. This was a different kind of rest, he realized, feeling his heart, his soul, replenish after the battering they took from Hinslyth, from Enach.
Things finally quieted down on the third day. Some of the visitors departed via the Transportation Circle, and only one new adventuring party arrived, ambling along the route from Wenslykirk. As Ainsworth watched Honey check them in, he knew it would be fruitless to approach them considering the “curse” on the inn but, well…He could not resist introducing himself and explaining his research, his plans.
In a rare turn of events, the weather calmed as eveningapproached, and the chill, crisp outdoors offered respite from the chaotic inn. As such—and in order to finally celebrate Ainsworth’s return—that night Ashe set up a campfire along the path to Mount Vengeance: only a few steps from the inn itself, of course, should their assistance be needed. Perched on rocks and sitting, legs crossed, on the grass, they all balanced bowls of stew on their knees and passed around a couple bottles of wine. The group could hear the muffled roar of cheers, singing, and applause from the inn when the bard from the adventuring party took up his instrument. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather be in there with them?” Ainsworth asked.
Bren shook his head. “A bit of peace and quiet is what I’ve been craving.”
They ate under the stars, with Ainsworth recounting a bit about what had happened at the library, glossing over the unpleasantries but making it clear he was no longer involved with Enach. Then he launched into the account of his return journey.
“Why did you bring a bow? You didn’t have one last time,” asked Quiddle, almost toppling over his stew in his haste to accept the bottle Ashe passed him. She scowled at his clumsiness as she caught his bowl.
“I wanted to hunt this time. For a swifter journey,” said Ainsworth. Not entirely a lie.
He then told them about his run-in with Fig and Fern, which Honey was delighted to hear about, and even Ashe asked after Fern and whether she might visit again.
They spent the rest of the evening together, occasionally interrupted by a guest seeking more drink or requesting cloths to clean up a spill. Honey sat perched next to Ainsworth, and he was filled with contentment when, after finishing her meal, she leaned against him and rested her head on his shoulder.
“Well, Ainsworth, what’s next for your project? I thought the only thing left was the section on Mount Vengeance,” asked Ruraidh from across the fire.
Ah, it was time, then. Ainsworth nodded.
“You’ll just be waiting around for more brave adventurers?” Ashe snorted.
“Oh, hopefully! We could use an extra hand around here, and if he has nothing else to do but wait for something that will never happen…” said Spin.
Alvea laughed and agreed that an extra hand in the kitchen would be nice. “You’ll really earn your place in the staff quarters then,” the chef said, grinning.
“Ainsworth has already earned his keep!” said Honey indignantly.
“Yes, by flirting with the innkeeper…”
Ainsworth felt himself blush as Honey flashed Alvea a rude gesture in response.
“Well, no, I won’t just be waiting around,” Ainsworth said in a desperate effort to change the subject. “I’ll be recording a firsthand account of the journey.”
The only sound that followed Ainsworth’s declaration was the crackle of the campfire.
“Wait,” Ashe said, at last. “You’re going to climb Mount Vengeance?”
Honey drew away from him as though he were a scalding flame. “What?”
He took a breath. “Yes, I am. And I shall leave tomorrow. The party that arrived this morning has offered to take me.”
It had taken surprisingly little convincing. The leader of the party was an orc named Freckle, who heartily agreed to not only include Ainsworth but also to have his own adventures during the journey documented in Ainsworth’s book.
“Freckle’slot? You can’t be serious, Ains. No oneeverleaves for the mountain.”
“Exactly,” Bren said decisively. “The lad’ll do what everyone else does. Wake up in the morning and decide not to follow through with it.”
“I think you’re forgetting, Bren, that I have already headed out for the mountain several times!” Ainsworth said, indignant. As if hehad not already proved himself to be impervious to whatever affliction fell upon the other adventurers!
“Aye, but it’s different this time,” said Bren. “You never set out to go the whole way. You’ll change your mind in the morning, just you wait.”
“Yes, exactly, thank you, Bren,” said Honey.
“Nah, I think he’ll go, since he’s been before. He’s not a coward,” piped in Quiddle.
“Yes, exactly, thankyou,Quiddle,” Ainsworth said, shooting Honey a triumphant look. “I’ve set out before, and I shall set out again. I will take rations for about two weeks, and I plan on hunting to supplement it. I learned a lot about the land while I traveled with Ashe, and—”
