I glanced about the forest floor. Thankfully, blood spatter adorned the grass where it had stood, so that narrowed the question down to whether I’d struck vitals or not. Knife in hand, I headed out.

  Five minutes and a single backtrack later, I found the glass-eyed buck by damn near tripping over it. In a matter of seconds, I knew two things: I hit it four inches higher than where I’d been aiming, likely because it had started to lunge, and the odds of me humping this pile of dead weight out without gutting it weren’t in my favor. I didn’t need to look up to know I was running out of time.

  Thankfully, I’d been part of the weapons squad while I was a Ranger, so humping an obscene amount of weight through the woods wasn’t anything new. Once I’d gutted the deer, moving it wasn’t the impossible task I’d worried it would be.

  That said, I had plenty of time during the trudge back to grouse over the way this hunt had gone. The more I thought about it, the more and less sense this made. More sense in the regard that I should’ve expected exactly this. Rowan had already conformed fairly closely to the old Army tradition of mixing hazing with honest skill checks. I should’ve seen the solo hunt coming a mile away and packed for it.

  On the other hand, it made less sense, too. With as little light was left in the day when we split, I had a hard time seeing any of the other Harvesters I’d met lug anything this size back inside the time limit, gutted or not.

  In the end, the look on Rowan’s face when I lurched to a halt in front of her confirmed the conclusion I eventually came to a few minutes earlier: she hadn’t expected me to go after a deer at all. A number of worries came to mind, but I stamped them out with a single, ruthless lesson learned by every NCO: if she wanted this done a specific way, she had the opportunity to make that known beforehand. If I did something I wasn’t supposed to, the fault was entirely hers.

  “So,” I grunted and took a knee so I could slide the deer to the ground. “Pretty sure it’s not quite nightfall. I could use a short break before lugging this upstairs.”

  “Goddess’s teats, Sam,” Rowan finally sputtered. “How in the hells did you manage this?”

  Once the deer was on the ground, I followed, ending up half sprawled against it. “Spite, mostly.”

  She snorted and barked something to the sentry above us I didn’t quite catch, given how much the buck had beaten my ass on the way back.

  When she looked backdown at me, she grinned. “I’d believe it.”

  “You know, it didn’t occur to me until a few minutes ago that this might’ve been a bit above and beyond what I needed to do.”

  Rowan smirked and shook her head. “I expected you to get something smaller, like one of the boars I pointed out.”

  “To be fair, I focused on the deer because they basically on the straight-line path back here. Lugging a hog would’ve definitely been easier. Speaking of, how do you guys treat field dressing animals around here? Didn’t occur to me until I was almost here that leaving gut piles inside the waystones might cause problems. That, and it’s possible to pick up some pretty nasty diseases doing it barehanded so I’m curious how you deal with that.”

  The way her gaze shifted gave me the impression my questions raised her opinion of me. “Generally, we keep a pair of leather gloves specifically for handling kills; they’re longer down the wrist than normal and treated to make cleaning them easier. I can get you a pair. As for the gut piles, it’s a matter of how close to the waystones you are if it’s a problem or not. Deeper in, racoons and other scavengers can handle the piles just fine. Too close to the stones and you’re right, some predators might cross the ward.”

  Footsteps from above brought my eyes up, but thanks to the dim light, all I only made out vague movement.

  Aine smiled as she came down the last few steps with her sister close behind. Aine planted the tip of the pole she was carrying into the dirt before her. “Heard you needed a decent pole, boss.”

  Rowan pursed her lips, answering Aine’s statement initially with an unamused stare. “Would you mind taking this up to the kitchens?”

  Aine eyed me skeptically. “I doubt he’s the type that enjoys being tied up, Captain.”

  The sisters exchanged glances and Cailleach shrugged. “Probably not, but you never know, sister.”

  Rowan sighed but the sisters set off into motion before she spoke. In less than a minute, the two had the animal secured and were on their way upstairs.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  I accepted Rowan’s offered hand and lurched to my feet. “Is that going to be a regular thing, then?”

  She eyed me for a second. “The innuendos? You could ask her to stop if it bothers you. I’m used to them.”

  I raised an eyebrow and lurched for the stairs. “Would she even listen?”

  A voice echoed through the darkness, “I’m always listening, Sam.”

  “That’s not creepy at all, Aine,” I called back. The only response I got was distant giggling.

  We were crossing the last few feet of sky bridge to the villa when I asked, “So, question. Are we supposed to use the baths on the third floor?”

  “After what you did for Moira, I doubt anyone would still complain if you did, but sharing a bath with a dozen screaming kids at this hour isn’t my idea of serenity. Drop your equipment off, I’ll show you a better place.”

  Dropping everything off took only a few seconds, but I made sure to set anything bloody in its own pile before stepping back outside where Rowan was waiting with towels.

  We set off to the stairs and Rowan slowed by the door on the kitchen level. “I want to make sure they got it here,”

  I heard the shrill sound of a child yelling on the other side of the door and the moment it opened we were greeted by a cacophony. Three kids were running circles around the twins and their burden just outside the door to the kitchen, evidently overjoyed at the thought of venison.

  Naturally, all three immediately shut up and stopped running the moment the night supervisor leaned out of his window. He squinted at them, grunted, and opened the kitchen door for the twins.

  While I waited for Rowan by the door, one of the boys headed over with what looked like his older sister following after him impatiently.

  “THANK YOU FOR THE DELICIOUS MEATS!” the little boy, all of four or five, belted out at drill instructor parade ground volume.

  The little girl elbowed him in the side. “Arry, why are you yelling?”

  He responded to the elbow with an incredulous stare. “His ears are tiny. Duh. I bet he can hardly hear.”

  She flashed me an embarrassed smile. “That’s because he’s human, silly. Come on, let’s get go find mom.”

  The pair’s chatter still echoed in the stairwell behind me when Rowan returned. “Well, that’s taken care of. Sorry for the wait.”

  I grinned and followed into the stairwell. “No need to apologize. I was plenty entertained watching the kids run around. I’m beginning to think kids are kids, elf or human.”

  “If you could convince the rest of the humans of that, it’d be a gift. I didn’t argue when we sealed our borders after the keep fell, but fifty years is a long time for humans. There are old men who have never met one of us. I can’t see anything good coming from that,” Rowan said during the climb.

  Drawing from my experiences overseas, I commented, “Where I came from, even if they did it wouldn’t stop the ones bent on hating you. Not sure how things work here, but I can’t see it being much different. Hate’s a powerful motivator, regardless of how smart or educated they might be.”

  Rowan grunted and we stepped outside a few moments later, emerging into the maze of trellises I saw earlier when I came up here with Gráinne. “That’s fair, Sam. Still, I’d like to think most people, elf or not, can be swayed away from the lies whispered in their ears by the truth in they see with their own eyes.”

  When Rowan began following a circular path around the small structure in the center of the gardens, I asked, “There’s a bath up here? I thought this was all rooftop garden. Not that all the plants make seeing things up here easy.”

  Leading onward, she chuckled. “There’s plenty up here. The room there in the middle? Don’t ask me specifics, since it’s all magic to me, but that’s what makes our hot water. You’d have to ask Fiachra for specifics, since he’s the one who maintains it all.” We came around another wall of greenery, and she pointed to a barely visible building through the next set of hanging greenery. “That’s where we’re going.”

  “Really? Looks a little small.” Aside from that, I didn’t give voice to any of the concerns popping up in my head. My values and expectations were my own and I didn’t want to rock the boat much just yet, even if I was beginning to wonder what the going idea here for professionalism was.

  “It’s one of the few parts of this place that wasn’t changed. This?” She gestured. “When the elves came to the Lonely Glade, this was first structure they built. You couldn’t tell now, but it was originally a temple. I suppose, given Aoibheann’s focus on family, it still is in a way. Up here, originally a retreat for the druids and the high priestess. The gardens are open to everyone, but Quinn and I are the only ones who use the baths up here.”

  On one hand, being deployed to some of the most isolated areas of the world meant body modesty was not one of the things years of service to Uncle Sam had let me keep. On the other, absolutely none of that was done in mixed company.

  I paused a moment before joining Rowan inside after she unlocked the door. The place wasn’t as cramped as I thought it might’ve been. Tile floor, subfloor drainage. The tub inset into the floor in the back looked like an oversized jacuzzi, or at least the kind too expensive for the casual status-symbol crowd.

  “Would you mind—” she started to ask but stopped halfway through and glanced at me while tossing the towels on the short table by the door. “You know, it just occurred to me that this might not be a thing in your world.”

  “Never been, but bathhouses were a thing in other countries,” I noted while she lit the incense burner next to the towels. “Where I’m from, bathing was generally a private thing. Less so in the military, but mixed company bathing wasn’t really a thing.”

  When her attention returned to me, her ears were flushing. “Oh. Well then.”

  I shrugged. “I figured if this meant something, there would’ve been hints. It’s not like you’re subtle like Aine.”

  Rowan snorted. “Yeah, subtle. Like Aine.”

  I won’t lie, some mutual appreciation certainly followed, but both of us were dead set on enjoying every bit of hot water once the tub finished filling. When we both emerged, I was groggy and probably the most relaxed I’d ever been since I enlisted.