“Well, that suggests a course of action,” said Alfric with a sigh. “We go southwest, tackle the dungeon there, then Isra and I, or whoever likes, can take a trip further to the southwest, and find an inn for the night there. I think we could have come back from Tarchwood the same day, but there’s an unfortunate hill at the hex boundary, and I didn’t want to push it. Better to get things done quickly, so I think we’ll push for that dungeon in short order.”
“Another, so soon though?” asked Verity.
“You said a few days,” said Alfric, frowning. “Best to make plans for it now.”
“When I said a few days, I was thinking… well, that it sounded like more time than I think it actually is. Why not wait for the week to finish on the party so we can have the channel?”
“We don’t need the channel,” said Alfric. “The channel doesn’t do anything for us when we’re all in a dungeon together. It’s only marginally better than just talking and then mostly for clarity and because it’s quiet.”
“I think it might be more the idea that this is somethin’ we’re gettin’ ready for,” said Hannah. “So maybe we’ll plan on two days, but play it by ear, and see where we stand as far as trainin’ and equipment go. We got in some practice together yesterday, and we’ll do some more tomorrow, then have a day of true rest where we do nothin’ at all but eat and shop.”
“Sure,” said Alfric.
“Sounds good to me,” said Mizuki. “But obviously we’ll need Isra, especially if it’s going to mean another long trip for her.”
“Even with the stride boots I felt like I was at risk of falling behind her,” said Alfric.
“I’ll accept three days from now,” said Verity. “But we do need to spend some time practicing. Alfric, do you have time tomorrow? I’d like to see what pushing the limits on strength does.”
“I’ll need some time with Isra too,” said Mizuki. “I don’t know what kind of impact druids have on the aether, but hopefully there’ll be something to squeeze from it.” She reached over and stroked Tabbins, who was still up on the counter. “Maybe we can take Tabbins with us so she has someone to talk to.” She scratched his head. “Wouldn’t you like that, Tabbins?”
“Maybe,” said Alfric, who seemed like he was seriously starting to consider it. “At any rate, I’m quite hungry.” He looked at the stove, where the pot was bubbling. “Is the stew done?”
“Stew is a funny thing,” said Mizuki as she got a stack of bowls down from the counter. “It can be done, but the longer it has to meld, the better it tends to be. A stew is never truly done, in my opinion, because part of the process of stew is letting it sit for an hour or two so the herbs and the flavors can work themselves together and the sauce can develop a proper richness.” She smiled. “But yes, to answer the question, the stew is done.”
“Excellent,” said Alfric. He was first in line and used the ladle to fill his bowl, then grabbed a spoon from the pile that Mizuki had set out and started eating without waiting for anyone.
“Did you not have breakfast this morning?” asked Mizuki. “Are you really crazy enough to walk twelve miles on an empty stomach?”
Alfric nodded and continued to wolf down the stew, which was hot enough to make curls of steam in the cool air.
“What is this?” asked Verity as she ladled a bowl.
“Chunks of venison, sage, rosemary, onion, potato, sweet potato, tomato, parsnips, garlic, ginger, um, salt, white pepper, um…” Mizuki tapped her foot, trying to remember. “Rutabaga, turnip. I think that’s it. Maybe some spices I’m forgetting, possibly another root vegetable—carrot! There’s carrot too.”
“It’s great,” said Alfric. He was still eating, but had slowed down halfway into the bowl. Mizuki was gratified to see him going through it quickly. “Do you have training?”
“From my mom, with the more practical stuff, and dad, for mixing flavors and creating new things,” said Mizuki. “But ‘training’ is probably giving Dad too much credit. He had a lot of ideas about what made for good food and tried to get me involved from a young age.” As was tradition in her house, not that she’d told the others, she took her own bowl last and gently blew on it to make sure that it wouldn’t burn her. By the time she’d taken the first bite, Alfric was already finished.
“Is there enough for me to have another bowl?” he asked, looking somewhat guilty.
“Of course,” said Mizuki. “I made enough for all of us, Isra, and one other.”
“Who was the one more meant to be?” asked Alfric as he ladled up more for himself.
“It’s just good manners and good sense, if you have the ingredients,” said Mizuki. “Either it’s something to eat for dinner, or you can host someone unexpected.”
“This is good stuff, ay?” asked Hannah, having finished her bowl. She ate quickly too, Mizuki noticed. Once she was finished, she reached for the bread. “Do you have butter?” she asked.
“Of course,” nodded Mizuki, slipping off her chair and going to get the butter dish.
“Sorry that the strawberry bread doesn’t go better with the stew,” Hannah said. “Next time, we can work together to plan it out.”
“I think it’ll be fine,” said Mizuki. “What would go better with this stew?”
“Oh, just something in the same palate, ay?” asked Hannah. “Rosemary and ginger or sage and garlic, that sort of thing. Something to sop up the sauce.”
“Well when you put it that way, I feel like I’m missing out,” said Mizuki. “And shoot, I’m going to need to make dinner for tonight, but there’s almost nothing in the chiller.” She frowned. “Do you think that when Isra hunts, she just tells the animals to lay down and die?”
“Don’t make fun,” said Alfric.
“I’m curious!” said Mizuki. “And then maybe that’s just what she thinks hunting is like for everyone.”
“I doubt she’d be so handy with a bow if it were that easy for her,” said Verity. “And Alfric is right, you shouldn’t make fun.”
“She’s a weird one though, right?” asked Mizuki. “I mean, we can all agree on that, can’t we? Just blithely wandering through the world, especially at our age, thinking that everyone can control the weather and talk to cats and whatever else?”
“‘Our age’?” asked Alfric. “Aren’t you twenty-two?”
“You know what I mean,” said Mizuki. “And four years doesn’t make that much difference, does it?”
“I think we’re all weird in our own ways,” said Alfric.
“A bunch of misfits, you mean?” asked Mizuki.
“Well, when I said ‘we’ I meant everyone,” he replied. “I don’t think that the five of us are all that different from, um, normal people.”
“Certainly more mages though,” said Hannah. “Not that I’m a mage, or Verity really is either, or Isra, for that matter, but you take my meaning.”
“I’m a sorc, not a mage,” said Mizuki. “You know, ‘mage’ is probably one of the least helpful words anyone has ever invented. It covers everything from alienists to chrononauts.”
“Chrononauts aren’t mages,” said Alfric.
“Well, yeah, that’s what I’m saying,” said Mizuki. “With the sole exception of wizards, you can make an argument for any practitioner not being a mage, even sorcs.”
“Why are chrononauts not mages?” asked Verity, turning to him.
“It has nothing to do with the aether,” he said, shrugging.
“Everything extranormal is mediated by the aether,” said Hannah, as though she’d read that in a book somewhere or possibly was regurgitating something from a lesson at her seminary.