Chapter 118: Midnight Rendezvous and a date for Squirt

Given that the tent city was closer to the wall than the Keep, Squirt opted for the shortcut through the bolt hole that came out in the quartermasters. Zhadin didn’t argue, much as they never did, a fact that was not bothering her. Nope.

They simply carried Glow cradled in their arms, allowing Squirt to check over Glow anytime she turned around, and obediently following even her slightest direction.

Squirt checked on Glow every few blocks, meaning every few blocks, they squatted to her level, holding out the sleeping Glow for Squirt to assess without complaint, never offering a word of suggestion.

She didn’t appreciate it.

She didn’t.

Sleeping potions could be a bit touch and go, and as weak as greenlings were, they were always more susceptible to such things. It would likely have no lingering effects except for a longer time asleep, but without knowing what they used, it was hard to know. It was possible that he could wake any moment, or that he could wake in a week. Or never.

She hadn’t liked how cheap the rest of their supplies had been.

Still, Glow’s heartbeat remained slow and steady, his expression peaceful. And she had an inkling that Jezalin would treat him despite it being the middle of the night.

She hoped.

Opening the wooden trapdoor into the quartermasters, Squirt shifted to let Zhadin step through when she caught movement from the side.

Puds. Looking like she’d just woken, her hands wrapped awkwardly around a blade larger than a dagger but shorter than a short sword, her hair askew and her clothing wrinkled with sleep. She leaned heavily against a shelf, visibly sighing in relief at Squirt.

Squirt frowned as she closed the door to the tunnel. Trotting forward, she noted the surprise in Puds’ face as Squirt gripped her hands.

“Not like that. Like this.” She shifted Puds’ hands on the blade. “You were holding it like a kitchen knife. This grip is stronger.”

Conflict warred across Puds’ face.

Squirt studied the expression. Her eyes slowly dropped back to where she was holding her hands. “Weapons don’t have to cause harm. You can use them to deflect rather than stab.”

A touch of the tension in Puds’ white knuckled grip eased. Her voice was small, almost vulnerable. “Really?”

Squirt hummed in thought. “Puds… did you want to join the midmorning training?” She had excluded Puds along with some other choice greenlings. The elders, the crippled, and those who would rather die than commit any type of violence. Puds had always been part of that last group.

Perhaps that had changed.

Sixty years was a long time, after all.

Rather than answering, Puds’ eyes traced over to glance at Zhadin, who was waiting on the other side of the counter, Glow sleeping soundly in their arms. Though it was slight, there was a tremor in her fingers that Squirt thought had nothing to do with Zhadin being a shadowfell. “What happened?”

Squirt noted the deflection, allowing it. “Your plan happened. He was taken by kidnappers.”

Puds’ eyes widened. “What?”

Surprise wasn’t the emotion Squirt was expecting here. She raised an eyebrow. “Was this not what you intended?”

“It was, but… already?”

“Already.”

Puds fell into thought again, the tension returning to her hands on the blade. Squirt frowned at the white knuckled grip of fear that was at odds with the determination in her eyes.

Squirt understood.

Stepping forward into Puds’ space, she shifted the blade to the side and wrapped her arms around Puds’s middle.

Puds melted immediately, the blade dropping with a clatter to the ground, her body breaking out in shivers as she leaned into Squirt.

Squirt took a moment to appreciate that she was now physically strong enough to hold her like this. When they were younger, whenever Puds hugged her this hard, they always fell over. There was a touch of pride in her acknowledging that she was now strong enough to hold the larger pixie up.

Greenlings were rather touchy as a group, but even amongst them, Puds needed it more than most.

Shaky breaths turned into steady breaths as the hold soothed Puds, easing the conflict raging in her. Though the hold was less than a minute, the change was stark.

In a soft, hesitant voice, Puds asked, “The training… it’s in the open, yes?”

Squirt nodded against her.

Silence.

Pushing back on Puds’ shoulder, Squirt detangled herself before bending down and picking up the blade. Tossing it up once and catching it, she said, “In front and with the larger fey.”

Puds flinched.

Squirt studied the expression. Handing her back the blade handle first, she shifted Puds’ grip. “I need to take Glow to a healer. In the morning, I’ll come by and show you blocks using this.”

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“Blocks?”

“Blocks. How to defend. Protect yourself rather than attack. Blades, used correctly, can be almost as good as a shield.”

The small spark of light in Puds’ eyes was worth the addition to Squirt’s schedule. “Really?”

“Really.” It would be an entirely different training regimen than the other greenlings, so it made sense to do it separately, anyway. “For now, just remember the hold here. And ask Quint for a second blade. For defending, it’s better to have two.” She thought for a moment. “Or a buckler, but I won’t be able to teach you how to use that.”

Puds would have had to have gotten the blade from Quint to begin with. It was clearly one of the lesser quality training blades, which would work better. Blades used for parrying and blocking didn’t need to be sharp.

A barely visible shy smile just slightly turned the corners of Puds’ lips up.

Squirt snorted, seeing it, before letting go and trotting away.

“Squirt?”

Squirt turned just before exiting out from behind the counter.

Puds was holding the blade close to her chest, the smile more obvious now. Though she didn’t say the magic words, Squirt could see it in the way her eyes shone in the dim gloom of night.

The ghost of an echoing smile on her own face was wiped as she turned back around to exit into the halls, Zhadin following along.

Squirt hesitated outside the infirmary doors, her hand poised to knock. A touch of apprehension skittered in her chest.

She knew Jezalin would heal her in a heartbeat. Or at least, she was pretty sure.

But calling on a healer for a greenling was something she would never have done before. The idea was ludicrous. Laughable. And that wasn’t even taking into account Jezalin’s rank.

No. Technically, Squirt had never been told of any title for Jezalin, which meant she didn’t know. All she knew was the fallen healer had expressed interest in her, fleeting or not, meaning that she was more likely to be open to doing Squirt favors.

The barest hint of sound had her spinning in place, one hand on her dagger, her eyes wide. There, trotting down the hallway, was the massive dark form of the lord’s wolf.

Her expression flattened as he regally strode up to the door, and it opened for him without so much as a whisper of protest from the hinges.

Of course he was here. He would have sensed them coming through the bolt hole.

Annoyed she’d hesitated long enough for the lord to come upstairs himself and open the door for her, she followed along in his shadow, her eyes searching around the room. There, on the fifth bed on the left, lay Qzi.

She’d recognize that soft snore anywhere.

Squirt hesitated for a beat, scanning over him. His bruises were well on their way to healing, his expression peaceful as he curled around two pillows that…

That were suspiciously positioned where she tended to sleep in his arms.

And more suspiciously, the two combined was roughly her size. Based on the configuration of the sheets, they’d been wrapped up to make one Squirt sized pillow arrangement, making it completely intentional. Just as intentional as the way he draped himself around the bedsheet-pillow contraption.

He nuzzled it in his sleep.

Like a psycho.

Forgetting she saw Qzi at all and absolutely not even slightly flustered, she caught back up in a heartbeat, the time passed not even long enough to leave the lord’s shadow.

A shift on the far side of the room drew her eyes towards a healer standing from the side of a d’mi’s bed, Jezalin’s head bowed and her hands glowing over the fey’s stomach.

The lord’s wolf strode forward with purpose before sitting at the end of the bed, his eyes fixated and narrowed on the fallen.

Jezalin’s voice was melodic and smooth as she spoke without breaking her concentration. “Lord Everwinter. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

From her slight dip in intonation, it was anything but.

The healer with her dropped to a knee, and Squirt used that opportunity to circle around both, away from the unknown healer and towards Jezalin. Reaching the fallen’s side, she hesitated for only a moment before leaning in close enough to murmur, “Me.”

The single syllable was apparently all Jezalin needed. The glow on her hands faded. “Corwick, you can take over at this point, I believe, yes?”

“Y-yes, my lady.”

The healer had clearly not yet gotten over his lord’s shifted form. It was a fair reaction, as he was larger than any other wolf Squirt had ever seen, shifted or otherwise, and radiated magical dominance and a keen intelligence that spoke to his qualities as Lumin. From his regal posture, the wolf dared any creature to say otherwise.

Shifting backwards and shaking himself out of his stupor, the healer sat himself back down by the patient’s side, eyes unfocused as his hands began to glow. Within seconds, his attention was focused on the wound, his eyes glazed over as he fell deeply into a healing trance.

Jezalin stood, shifting her cape elegantly and giving Squirt a clear exit strategy away from any prying eyes. Despite the concentration on the healer’s face, Squirt took it, using the cover to hide herself from further notice until she could reach the lord, just in case there was anyone else awake in the room.

There was not.

Squirt still switched to hide in the lord’s shadow at the first opportunity as the slightly better cover.

His shadow, which was, conveniently enough, between his two front legs.

Making his position entirely intentional.

Did the wolf look smug?

When Squirt shifted her attention to the fallen, she noted the distinct sneer of derision directed towards the wolf that blinked away the moment their eyes connected.

Shaking her head at both of them, she gestured at Zhadin, who had hidden themselves behind the lord wolf’s bulk. Jezalin stepped forward, silently and effortlessly casting a scan spell that visibly started at the top of Glow’s head, a band of light sliding all the way down to the base of his toes.

Squirt breathed out a sigh of relief as soon as Jezalin removed her hand with a smile.

Jezalin gave her a moment before murmuring, “He’ll wake unharmed in the morning.”

Thank the gods.

“Perhaps more freshly rested than normal. I daresay if it had hit you, you would sleep until well past noon.”

Squirt’s expression flattened. Lady Jezalin could pry her wakeberries from her cold, dead hands.

“There’s a spare bed in the corner I can lay him on.”

Squirt considered it. It was disorienting, waking up in such an unfamiliar place. Even now, being so visible in an open space was disconcerting. Glow was one of many greenlings who never socialized outside their community, and to wake up alone after being taken…

Shaking her head, she answered, “I believe your diagnosis, my lady. I will take him back to rest with our people.”

“And where would that be?”

“My lady?”

She crossed her arms one over the other, popping a hip. “Should, say, a lady wish to call on one of your people. How should she go about this?”

Behind Squirt’s head, she could feel the telltale rumbles of a near-silent growl beginning to form. Her annoyance at his overprotective instincts was the only reason the sheer fluster didn’t make her freeze in place.

Jezalin had always been bold, but this was bolder than usual. Calling on someone could be social, but with the sly smile on Jezalin’s face? She’d as good as openly declared courting intent.

Somewhat dazed, Squirt responded formally, “Depends on the greenling, my lady. Most are in the carriage storage for temporary housing.”

“And yourself?”

“That would depend, in all honesty, my lady, on the day and time.” Normally she’d be out in the Wylds away from shit like this.

Though no one could really call a woman that beautiful shit with any degree of sanity.

“Very well. I shall wait for you…” She glanced around at the beds, nodding to herself as she calculated recovery times. “In two days, in the lord’s office? Perhaps over lunch.”

Why?

Well, Squirt knew why, of course. A woman didn’t strike the kind of pose Jezalin was making without intention. She had serious doubts this would be a purely social visit. It was just that the lord’s office was an odd place to choose for a romantic rendezvous given how they clearly didn’t like each other.

Confused by the mixed signals, Squirt merely bowed, murmuring, “As you wish,” before straightening and shifting to exit the room.

Just as she reached the entrance, she was certain she heard Jezalin murmur, “I look forward to it.”