I had a hard time enjoying the rest of the night. My mind kept going back to that confrontation with Sofia. Had I really thrown her off her game just by accusing her of being hot for me?

  How stupid was I?

  She was an 80 year old super-sorceress/empress, and I threw her off with the equivalent of ‘I think you like like me!’ What if she just pretended to be flustered by my come on, in an attempt to keep me on the hook? Maybe she was just making herself look more attainable, and girlish.

  She’d outplayed, and out maneuvered a continent for over sixty years. She’d burned a city to the ground. She was ruthless. Why would she care about me at all?

  But then, I remember the way Cerelia, a princess of the elven people and over 200 years old herself, looked at Caleb. She loved him, loved him to distraction and ruin of her political prospects. People could be fools for love.

  Nobody as cool as Sofia, would be that much in love with me. It had to have been an act.

  Even so, my convincing worked. She believed it better to leave empty handed, than force Hector and Helena to follow her. I’d actually done something, even though I had no idea how.

  “You alright?” Berryhop asked.

  “Huh?” I was brought back to the moment all at once. “Oh, yes, thanks. I’m okay.”

  “I was just passing out my anti-hangover potions, but nobody seems to want to take them.”

  “Do they work in the morning?”

  “Less so, but it’s better than nothing,” she admitted.

  “Then hand ‘em out in the morning,” I said with a wink.

  Berryhop beamed.

  Hector had his arm around his daughter’s shoulder. His smile broke wide. The mood of the party had that strained, wild feeling that happens when everyone is pushed past tiredness and drunkenness, and into mania.

  “I didn’t know Rachel had a thing with her!” Hector said.

  “You cannot chat up every elven piece of ass you see,” Helena complained. “Zorra idiota”

  “If it makes you feel any better I think we’re in the ‘off again,’ of the on and off again. She thinks I’m too broken.”

  Helena extricated herself from her father, and took Rachel by the hands.

  “You are not broken,” she said. “You’ve been hurt. Who hurt you?”

  Hector slunk off to give them space, and sat next to me. I nodded, and he nodded back.

  “I — that’s — it’s just” Rachel stammered.

  “Are they still around?” Helena asked.

  “Somewhere.”

  “Then you must go, and ask for recompense for your hurt.”

  “I mean, she cut off my arm, and hurt those I love.”

  “Then you may have to kill her.”

  “I mean, Braelyn said vengeance —”

  “No, no,” Helena said, interrupting her gently. “Mi Vida,” she said, and placed Rachel’s hand on her chest. “It is not vengeance you seek, but justice. Tell me when you want to go do it, and I will be there in a flash. Papa has teleport on his spell list. It is no problem. Estoy aquí para ti.”

  Rachel looked to Hector, who shrugged.

  “You’d help me kill Knight Captain Wen?” she asked.

  Helena laughed.

  “I’m not scared of that bitch. The Queen needs us, more than some jack-booted thug. We can smooth it over, whatever happens. Say the word, and I’ll be there.”

  “I just may take you up on that,” Rachel said.

  Helena took Rachel closer to the fire, and I turned to Hector.

  “I know you can’t join us for good,” I said.

  He nodded.

  “But,” I continued, “there’s nothing stopping you from joining us temporarily to take out the dragon. May even win you some loot to take back to the Queen. How bad could it be, if the Queen gets some cash?”

  “Your king would allow that?”

  “He’s not here. We have to get this done. He doesn’t get much say in how.”

  “Makes sense,” he said. “I’ll think about it.”

  “You know how to reach me.”

  Bernie was talking to Berryhop. I had a moment alone with my thoughts. It really seemed like we had won an ally tonight. Wasn’t that crazy? Just days ago, Helena had tried to kill Rachel and I.

  Or had she? She had ample opportunity to hit us with the sharp end of that axe, but somehow managed to miss every time. Maybe most of the work had been done by Rachel weeks ago.

  Helena went to her father, and they both headed for the door. Before they reached it, Rachel ran up to them, and kissed Helena passionately.

  Hector and I tried not to look, so we both sort of stared at the fire.

  Then they were out the door, and disappeared into the darkness.

  “Damn, Rachel,” I said.

  “Am I crazy?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Definitely,” chimed in Bernie.

  “Fuck,” stammered Rachel.

  “But,” Bernie added, “at least you’re not Caleb, fucking over a key politcal aliance because he wanted to get his dick wet.”

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  Rachel laughed.

  We paid our bills, and went to our rooms. We were too drunk and tired to do much fooling around, but I went to sleep holding Bernie like often I did, and I felt that sweet sense of certainty I’d begun to cherish wash over me before I met the oblivion of sleep.

  In the morning, my head hurt like it’d been kicked repeatedly. I heard some movement in the room, and sat up. Bernadette threw something small and made of glass, and it bounced off my chest. I picked it up, and held it to the light.

  The morning sun lit the pink liquid in the bottle, and set the bubbles nearly glowing.

  “Berryhop’s hangover fix,” Bernie said.

  “Oh, thank god,” I said, and uncorked it. It tasted bitter, but was bubbly and refreshing. I drained it in a single gulp.

  “Two more days ride until the Tower,” Bernadette said.

  “We got the horses?” I asked.

  “Yeah, didn’t you hear us yesterday?”

  “Maybe?”

  Bernadette scoffed.

  We said our goodbyes to the crew of the Happy Badger, to Captain Nedry and the rest of the scout company, and made our way out on the road. This time, on horseback.

  Cal and Berryhop took one horse. Bernie, Rachel, and I had our own horses. Rachel and Cal looked pretty confident. Bernie and I had a little bit of trouble.

  We kept the horses at a slow pace for this reason, but we needed less breaks, and were able to keep more of our stuff with us on account of the saddlebags. We’d left the Donkey with the scouts.

  We had most of Berryhop’s alchemy stuff, and plenty of food, but were forced to leave the water barrels behind. Cal said this wasn’t to be much of an issue, since the river was so close, and all we’d need to do was boil the water.

  My horse’s name was Ladybug. Apparently they’d requisitioned her from a farmer. She was a 1000 pound monster that could buck me off her back, and kick me to death if she wanted, and I had to just make her listen to me? How? Horses were a mistake. I just had to make sure I didn’t fall off.

  So, I didn’t want to learn this horse’s name. In fact, I would have loved it if the horses were conjured like last time. But Rachel had to go and piss off the only wizard we were on good terms with.

  Ladybug was not a good horse. Or maybe I was just a shit rider. They liked to veer off the trail, and take me through brush.

  But if my horse was bad, Bernadette’s horse, Trigger, was worse.

  “Ouch! Fucking Horseface!” Bernadette seethed.

  “Woah,” Cal turned his horse around and trotted beside her. “What’s wrong?”

  “Stupid horse bit me,” she said, gripping the reins tight.

  “You got to ease up on the reins,” he said. “Can’t squeeze your legs, and pull back on the reins at the same time.”

  “You have to engage your core,” Rachel said from the back of a beautiful black mare named Pearlie Mae.

  “That doesn’t give him the right to bite me!”

  “You’re telling him to go, and stop at the same time,” Cal chided. “I think he’s the only warhorse of the bunch. You got to respect his experience.”

  “Oh yeah? Why don’t you ride him then?”

  “She has a point,” Berryhop said.

  We chose that moment to take a break and get some lunch. Upon checking the map, we saw that what had looked like two and a half days' travel, would really end up only being less than a day and a half. The horses improved our travel time better than we thought. And we were taking a lazy trot with them. If we really wanted to get there quicker, we absolutely could.

  “So we’re making good time,” Rachel said. “I don’t know why we haven’t been using them before! We have plenty of money.”

  “Indeed,” Cal replied, tearing off a piece of bread, and handing it to Berryhop. “We could run the horses a little harder, get there by tonight if we wanted.”

  “Good idea!” Berryhop said.

  “I’m not in any hurry to get to this mysterious tower,” Rachel said. “And half of our crew could use the experience in riding. We should take it easy while we have the chance.”

  “You have a point,” I said.

  Bernadette just glared.

  “But,” Berryhop reminded, “every day we delay, Flaymeskerg’s tyranny over the Kingswood grows.”

  We all sat with that for a bit. Then Trigger tried to mount Pearlie Mae. What he was attempting to do while not having any balls, was beyond me, but we waved him off.

  We got back on the road, this time, with Bernadette riding Daisy, and Cal riding Trigger. We all had a lot to learn.

  When we made camp for the night, we brought out a bottle of wine, and passed it around. Cal and Berryhop refused, Berryhop choosing to turn in early, but Rachel was always down. And me and Bernadette were happy to have something to take the edge off our aches and our tension from a long day of riding.

  The conversation was mild, and we sang some. Eventually I walked off to relieve myself.

  When I walked back, I heard Bernie and Rachel talking. I hung around in the darkness to overhear.

  “What's it like with Zach?”

  “He listens well. And not great with his tongue, but he’s got spirit —”

  “Oh my god.”

  “You meant —”

  “I want to know what it’s like to be in love.”

  “Well, you’re older than me.”

  “I am, but back before we’d gotten here, I’d just been with men. And after, well it’s just been hookups. And situationships. And there was the one but it turns out… Turns out she never loved me. So, I’m not sure what the hell that was.”

  “Well,” Bernadette began, “the attraction is still strong. I never thought a guy like him would be my type, but he became my type after we got to know each other.

  “What is your type?”

  “Some guys—”

  “And every girl.”

  “Right.”

  “So what’s love like?” Rachel asked, getting the conversation back on track.

  “Well, there’s this thing that I’ve been searching for ever since I heard it. Homophrosyne.”

  “That’s a four dollar word. Sounds like a gay record player.”

  Bernadette laughed, and my heart softened. There wasn’t a better sound in the world.

  “Homophrosyne,” Bernadette said. “It’s a word that means ‘thinking alike.’ It was coined by Homer to describe how Pennelope and Odysseus relate to each other, how they’re such a good match because they think the same. My literature professor said that the great romance of the Odyssey is that even after 20 years, even after all that time apart, when they finally meet again, they destroy the suitors together without ever coordinating it. And even after, if Odysseus had thought she’d been unfaithful, it would have been over for them. But it never crossed his mind, because he wasn’t. They both survived because he learned to think like her, and she learned to think like him. And their story rang through the ages because of it.”

  “And you think you have that with him?”

  “No. Yes. Maybe, sometimes it feels that way. When we’re out on the battlefield. Or in bed. Or singing. Or… other times. But most of the time no. We don’t think alike. But the longer we stay together, I can see that we’re learning to think alike.”

  “Is that enough?”

  “It’s more than enough. He makes me so happy. And I want to keep learning him, and I want to show him me. I don’t know. Do I sound drunk?”

  “You do. But I sort of get it. You think I could have that with Helena?”

  “I got no idea. That bitch is crazy.”

  They both laughed. I took the long way around the tents, and walked up to her from the other direction to obfuscate the possibility I may have overheard her.

  “Excuse me,” I said, walking past Rachel.

  “He-ey,” Bernie said with a smile.

  I swept Bernadette off of her feet. She laughed.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “But you need to be kissed.”

  “Okay!” she said with a giggle.

  I carried her to the tent.

  In the morning, we took our time getting ready. Berryhop had more of those chocolates. We talked pleasantly for some time, then got the horses, and were on our way.

  We reached the lake well before lunch.

  A town overlooked what seemed to be an inactive caldera, the lake settled in it. The water shone blue like lapis lazuli. The forest ringed the lake like a green lion’s mane.

  As we rode through it, the town stood ramshackle and deserted.

  The tower hovered tantalizingly close.

  The lake had to have been miles wide, but the tower was far closer to the shore. There was no discernible way to reach it. No island. No ladder. Just a smooth black obelisk floating some twenty or thirty feet over the water. So, close as hell to the water comparatively, but not so close that we could just swim out there, and climb up.

  “How the heck are we going to get up there?” Berryhop asked from Bernadette’s lap.

  I looked around at the dilapidated buildings, the boarded up windows.

  “Plenty of wood around here,” I said. “You think we could build a raft?”

  “I think I could!” Berryhop said. “With your help, of course.”

  “Then a ladder maybe?” Bernadette offered.

  “Why not?” Berryhop said.