Page 56 of Aryn

“Please accept our apologies,” I say, loud enough for my voice to carry through the night. “We mean no harm. We are only passing through on our way to my home in Maelithryne.”

A Khileon female steps up beside him, just as broad and only a few inches shorter. “You’re one of those monk sorts from the mountains?”

“I am,” I agree with a cautious smile. “If you know of my people, you know we are peaceful. We aren’t looking for trouble.”

“And the softskins?” she asks.

“Softskins?” I repeat, brows drawing together.

She nods toward Cato, then gestures at Cameron and Taryn. “We haven’t seen their kind in these parts in many years.”

“You…” I shake my head, trying to process the information. “You know of humans?”

“Well, sure,” she says, as if the answer should be obvious.

“Thulga,” the male beside her chastises, but she waves him off.

“Oh, hush, Grimhild. Mostly they stick to the bigger cities, but they are the curious sort, aren’t they? A few have wandered into these parts looking for adventure.”

“Adventure?” I ask.

“Sure, sure,” she continues, waving a hand down the path. “The Shal’vorynthar River runs north of here, and it’s become something of a local legend after the dirdira trees blessed a human.”

“Blessed?” I echo, apparently unable to form my own words as I attempt to piece hers together.

“Dirdira trees?” Ronan demands at the same time.

Cameron perks up at the word and makes a quiet, contemplative sound, apparently deciding these people are no longer an immediate threat. “Those are the ones you told me about, right?”

“They are,” Ronan agrees, shifting into English. “I wasn’t sure they’d survived the cold.”

Thulga hikes a brow at him, glancing between Ronan and Cameron. “You speak their language?”

“We do,” I explain with another tense smile. “But unfortunately, they do not speak ours.”

The male at the front—Grimhild—tightens his grip on his axe, while the one bringing up the rear watches him closely. I’ve seen the look enough to know he’s waiting for silent direction, but the way Grimhild casts a sideways glance at Thulga tells me she’s the one in charge.

“You’re a strange bunch, aren’tcha?” she asks after a long pause.

“Please,” I say, pulling the focus back to me, “accept our most sincere apologies if we were trespassing on your land. We had no ill intentions and only ask to continue on our journey.”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Thulga says, taking a long stride forward. She’s so tall I have to tilt my chin to meet her eyes, and Cato tenses visibly as she draws closer. “You aren’t going anywhere.”

“We aren’t?” I repeat, my hand inching closer to my hilt. Beside me, Cato notices and slowly reaches for his weapon as well.

“Of course not! You’re going to stay with us tonight.”

“We… are?” I ask, brows pinching together as my hand goes slack.

She waves me off and whistles so loudly it makes my ears ring. The two zarrok trot obediently to her side, and after she snaps her fingers, their posture relaxes. “These roads are dangerous at night, and it’s freezing out here. You all look like you could use a hot meal and a proper night’s sleep.”

“What’s going on?” Cato demands beside me, half-poised to fight.

My eyes stay locked on the Khileon family as I answer him. “They’re inviting us to stay with them tonight.”

“Is that a good idea?” he asks.

“Oh, I think that sounds lovely!” Lillith chimes in. “I’m not fluent, so I wasn’t sure if they were inviting us inside or politely asking if we’d like to be sacrificed to the farm’s guardian spirit.”