“Residents.” I waved her onward. “A small settlement. I have not dealt with them directly, but I know of them through the market. They are known for their craftsmanship,” I shot her a toothy grin, “and their hospitality.”
Her face lit up at the word. The path to Sammy’s heart had been through her stomach. And I loved she enjoyed food as much as I did. Tonight, we’d be dine well.
I had been dreaming about the valley gnomes’ honey since before we left home. I wanted to see her expression when she tasted it. Giving her things, whether gifts or experiences, and watching her receive them, well, it had become one of the great pleasures of my life. One I did not take for granted.
The settlementelder was a gnome named Pell. Compact and ancient, with deep-set eyes the color of river clay and hands that never stopped moving, he turned a piece of carved wood over and over as he spoke. He welcomed us with the warm formality of someone who had received many travelers and found most of them acceptable.
“Welcome, friends!” He raised his mug to us in greeting as we made to sit around a low table with cups of pine-and-honey tea. “May your travels fare well and your stay with us pleasant.”
Berry settled on the cushion beside me. I noted their sudden stillness after the restlessness of the road, but the florin was not relaxed. Watchful. I observed them as they gazed around the room, which meant I nearly missed the moment Sammy tasted the tea.
Her eyes closed. A small, involuntary sound escaped her.
“Good?” I asked.
She opened one eye. “Do not say I told you so.”
“I wouldn’t dare.”
“You are absolutely thinking it.”
“I am thinking,” I said, wrapping my arm around her waist and pulling her closer, “that you look very happy. And that it is my favorite thing to see.”
The softening of her expression moved through me like sunshine. Under the table, her hand found my thigh.
I leaned in to whisper in her ear. “Now, I’m thinking about what I’d like to do to you when we’re alone.”
She gasped, her face flushing. I covered her hand with my own and kept it there for the rest of the conversation.
Squeezing my thigh, she whispered back, “Behave.”
Pell, across from us, turned his carved piece twice and set it down. He and the elder woman beside him exchanged a look containing an entire conversation.
“The shining falls,” he said, in answer to Sammy’s question about our destination. He hummed. “Sacred place. Beautiful. Most valley folk don't go. Not from fear, mind you. Out of respect.”
“Has anyone been near it recently?” Sammy leaned forward, tea forgotten, her gamer focus fully engaged. “Anything unusual in that direction?”
Pell turned the wood again. “Someone passed through,” he said carefully. “Three nights ago. Perhaps four. Moving east. Fast.” A pause. “Small.”
“A child?” Sammy asked.
“No.” His river-clay eyes moved briefly to me, then back. “Not a child.”
I kept my expression easy, a deliberate ease, long practiced and having learned that animals read tension in a face. “Did they stop here?”
“No. They moved at night. I only saw because I keep late hours.” He set the carved piece flat on the table; the first time he had stopped turning it. “A creature that moves at night and doesn’t stop to speak is either frightened or doesn’t want to be known. Neither sits well with me.”
Sammy’s hand tightened on my thigh for a very different reason than before.
“Thank you for telling us,” I said, squeezing her hand in reassurance.
He nodded once. “The falls are worth the journey.” A pause before it, slight but present. “ But I thought you should know what the road has carried ahead of you.”
On our way out,Berry found the settlement’s florin.
I had not known there was one as they did not always announce themselves. But Berry launched from my shoulder without warning and shot across the courtyard to where a cream-colored florin waited on a fence post. The new florin was a head shorter than Berry. Younger, perhaps, though I did not know the florin lifespan.
Sammy clasped her hands together the moment she saw them. “Oh,” she breathed, dropping her voice as though raising it might interrupt something. “Are they talking?”
