Summer had to admire the boy's stamina.

  She'd lost count of how many times Kevin had yelled out his pleasure upstairs and kept on going. Maybe the elven healer is helping him out there. Now that would be handy...It must be nice to be so blessed by the gods. And in so many ways...

  She found the noise somewhat distracting, along with the memory of her dalliance with Kervan. My first time with an elf. He's on the small side, but he sure knows how to use what he's got. It had been uncharacteristic of her to jump into bed with a stranger, but there'd been a lot of sexual energy in the room, and it had been a while for her. Plus, it was nice not to have to worry about getting pregnant.

  That sex goddess Sheema was getting banged by a healthy and eager young man, while that fine, fine piece of beef Tom Walker took two of his elves upstairs, and from the sounds of it, had been thoroughly satisfying both of them. With all that going on in earshot, and Kervan standing there looking just as flustered, Summer had thought, Oh, let the luck gods play, and kissed him. He was a good kisser, and given the way they both were feeling, they could hardly get into her bed fast enough.

  Her thoughts drifted to Tom Walker again. I wouldn't mind trying out his stamina. But I likely won't get the chance. Sheema has to get out of town as soon as possible. The Temple won't want to let her go, and the nobles certainly won't.

  That thought made her realize that she finally had time to open her package from Francesca Whistler. That poor woman, she thought, not for the first time. Sesca and Philip had been obviously and vividly in love even after twelve years of marriage. It was hard to believe Philip was gone. I'll miss him. I'll miss his designs, too. That man had a gift for tailoring, in addition to all his other skills. I suppose Sesca will take over the family business...both 'businesses.'

  Daring broke the seal, unfolded the letter, and concentrated on decoding with the ease of long practice. Some of the information was written openly; some was hidden in various phrases scattered throughout the writing; and a few points were more deeply coded.

  The opening was blunt and direct.

  My dearest Summer, My heart is breaking. I have lost my Philip.

  Sesca told the story of the bandit attack, which Tom had repeated to Summer already. Two of the bastards are still alive, huh? Daring might have something to say about that... Her jaw clenched and she forced herself back to calmness with an effort.

  A group of problem children has come to town, and three more of them are missing. Be sure to keep an eye on your jewelry, and do warn dear Camilla to do the same.

  Specific runes in the rest of the paragraph spelled out demons.

  If that redheaded elf were not so flighty, this would have been a good warning to have days ago, Summer grumbled, but realized that without Philip, Sesca's resources would be in disarray for some time, and she was grieving. She could forgive the poor woman for trusting an earnest but thoughtless messenger. She went back to reading.

  I think Tom Walker is a resourceful fellow. Not the most subtle, but far from a brute. If you have errands, I hear he is on his way to deliver several points south. He will be keeping an eye out for any problem children, and I'm sure that he will let R know if he finds any.

  Summer raised an eyebrow and lowered the letter again for a moment, considering. So, he has orders to report to Lord Rivermarch? He's got a good head on his shoulders if he convinced Rivermarch to let him leave, and with his elves, no less. "Points south" indeed.

  The letter then changed topics and explained that Philip had completed all of his errands, but Sesca had the books to balance. She was taking on the mantle, not that Summer had expected otherwise. The rest of the letter was the information that Summer would have normally received in calmer times, gathered from around the kingdom.

  Summer carefully reread it to be sure she hadn't missed anything, then folded it and placed it with the other such messages she had received that year. I'm about due to bundle those off. It might be time for me to visit Middleton again.

  A noise outside caught her attention. She picked up the baton she always had ready, and glided over to the back window in her office. Someone was in the alley, and they were much too noisy to be Piper or anyone else she might expect. She put one hand on the shutter and braced herself, then waited until the noisemaker was just outside her window. Then Daring shoved the shutter open as hard as she could.

  Steven Miller was standing there, glaring at her defiantly, a lit torch in his hand. She grimaced. Steven hadn't been a close friend, but Summer had known him and had nothing against the man. He lifted the torch and started dragging it along the back wall of the tavern. Daring jumped out the window with the ease of long practice, flipping over and landing on her feet.

  “I'm sorry Quazulin killed you, Steven. Now, it's time to put you out of your misery.” She took a deep breath, and screamed. “FIRE!”

  The shadow of Quazulin, or whatever it was called, sneered and swung the torch at her. She dodged with ease. He thought he was clever by following up with a dagger in his off hand, but Daring parried, then kicked his chestnuts, making him double over for a moment. That was all she needed to stick her own dagger in his neck. As Steven's body finally followed his soul in death, she deftly kicked the fallen torch into the middle of the alley where it wouldn't ignite anything.

  Anything else, rather.

  Daring surveyed the fires set along the alley. They were small at the moment, but would grow quickly. And Piper took all the buckets! I can't pour booze on flames to put them out. Think! She mentally ran through her alchemical stock; she had a few items to start fires, but was not familiar with a magical way to put them out.

  “FIRE!” she bellowed again. Will those two upstairs stop rutting long enough to hear me? Maybe Eubexa will warn them. She started running for the end of the alley, looking for ash, sand, anything to smother the flames. The closest well was at Merchant and Pine, but even one city block felt very far away.

  Before she reached it, the redheaded elf appeared, jumping over a wall. Daring was impressed, but without water, the girl would be of little use. Varga surprised her, though, by running back to the wall and reaching in. That's right; there's a small gap there. But someone would have to be on the other side to pass... Varga stepped back again, a bucket of water in her hands.

  Those elves are organized, and quick.

  “This way!” Daring beckoned, realizing that the elf had almost no Western. Varga approached at a quick trot. Summer impatiently unlocked the back door and darted into her tavern, grabbed a few of the bigger mugs, then dashed back out. Varga was just about to throw the entire bucket at one patch of flames. While that would be necessary for bigger ones, sometimes it would be overkill. Quazulin's zombie hadn't had much time to work.

  “No! Wait!” She scooped two mugs full of water from the bucket. “There are too many!”

  “Saa!” Varga deftly relieved her of the third mug and scooped water herself. Together they started dousing the smaller flames, keeping them from spreading, at the cost of the larger ones establishing themselves deeper into the wood and thatch. Better one fire than five...seven... Varga threw the last of the water on one hot spot, but it wasn't enough. Daring was already sprinting for the narrow space the elf had jumped.

  Sure enough, another bucket of water was waiting. Daring swapped for the empty one with a nod to the elf—oh, it's Kervan. “More!” she shouted.

  “Is three fire! We try!” her one-time romp shouted back, sounding doubtful. Of course, these aren't the first fires to be lit. It's a wonder the whole town isn't ablaze. I should have thought of this. Quazulin's echoes want revenge. Daring hurried back.

  While they fought the closest fires, an upstairs window shutter in the Wandering Ax flew open, and a naked Sheema leaned out and looked around. A moment later, Daring was pretty sure that she had learned the Elvish for, “Must I do everything?”

  A whirlwind started, whipping up all the dirt and sand from the ground and flinging it against the walls. Daring and Varga had to shield their eyes. It worked very effectively to smother flames in the alley, but Daring looked up with dread. Sure enough, the roof had caught. Sheema followed her gaze and twisted to look up.

  Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

  Daring learned the Elvish word for “Oops.”

  ° ? ? ? °

  Sunset came and went. A fight raged at the Keep. A handful of copies of Quazulin had run through the town, trying to start fires. It was easier to stop the possessed than the flames.

  Many people joined bucket lines, passing water to where it was most needed. With brutal practicality, Daring ripped much of the roof off the Wandering Ax to save the rest of it, sending the burning material downward, closer to the water being brought to douse it. The race to save Oak Mill was going to be close.

  Then, the gods had mercy on the town, and it began to rain. Not much, but enough to make it harder for more material to catch fire. Many voices were raised in grateful prayer as they worked.

  Sheema was moving around, healing some of those who had been burned. By all accounts, her healing spells were much more powerful than the ones at the Temple, and it was getting noticed. She ran out of strength after an hour, but even that was a tremendous help.

  Finally, after hours of hard labor, the last of the flames were put out. Dozens of buildings had been damaged, but only a few as severely as the tavern. Summer sat on the ground and stared up at the building.

  I'll need to move everything I can salvage down to the first floor, until the roof can be repaired. She grimaced. “Repair” was hardly the right word; the whole thing needed to be rebuilt.

  ° ? ? ? °

  By the end of the long night, well over a hundred people had died; how many more was yet to be counted. A couple of people had actually been killed by falling gold, as the vengeful possessed emptied the Treasury out the highest windows in the Keep onto the people fighting to reclaim their town. I expect more than a few pockets will be fuller than they ought to be. Summer opted not to join the scramble for gold. She had enough for her needs, even after paying for repairs to the tavern.

  Near sunrise, a lot of people had retreated to rest, and many seemed almost dead on their feet, including Tom Walker and his elves. The elves seemed to tire quickly, but got their second wind, tired again, and likewise later their third and fourth wind, as it were. Summer found them just as the sun's rays lit the very top of the Keep.

  She walked over to the human amidst the elves and spoke in a low tone. “Tom. Tom Walker.”

  He startled, his eyes flying open. “Yes? What is it?” Tom began to scramble to his feet, assuming some new emergency needed him. To forestall him, Summer crouched down and took his arm.

  “Tom, you need to get your elves into the wagons and get out of town. Now.”

  He stared at her and blinked a couple of times. “Now?”

  “The rich merchants and nobles will be inspecting things this morning, surveying the damage. When they do...”

  “They'll grab Sheema. You're right. I thought we'd have more time, but you're right, the fire changes things.” He paused. “Where are the wagons?”

  “The Temple Plaza, still. I've had a couple of street kids watching them. You owe me a favor.”

  Tom gave her a grateful look. “Thank you. We'd better head over there, then.”

  “No, your elves look too tired to walk up the hill. I'll bring the wagons around, up Maple to Market Street, right up there.” She pointed to the spot a block north of the well.

  “Again, thank you.” His gaze grew distant as he seemed to be quietly reciting a list of things to do. “Ugh, no time to get the gold from Biff,” he grumbled. That piqued Summer's interest.

  “Gold from Biff? Biff Tanner?”

  “Yeah, he's trying to get out of paying me seven gold twenty for some salt I sold him.”

  Summer smiled. “I'll take on that debt.”

  “What?” Tom's eyebrows went up. “Why?”

  “Because it will be fun getting it out of him. I've never liked that man.” Summer suppressed a yawn with effort, then stood. “If you'll excuse me, I appear to have a great deal to do and not much time in which to do it. See you shortly.” Summer thought about sending a messenger, but one glance at Piper sprawled on the ground next to a wall dissuaded her from that. Children need their sleep.

  She walked back to the Wandering Ax. Daryl and Marta were there, but Kyle and Leon were missing. She was grateful to have even half her staff show up so early, and quickly organized them in what needed doing. With rapid efficiency, she packed a bag, glad that she was already in her leathers. She went into her office and retrieved the papers for Middleton, and some gold from her hidden stash. Then she brought most of the gold to Daryl.

  “You'll need to see to the repairs. I'll be out of town for a week or so.” She handed him the coin pouch.

  “You're leaving?” he checked, surprised.

  “It can't be helped. I have to speak to some people in Middleton, and I need to do it in person, and it's urgent.”

  Daryl clutched the coin pouch tightly. “Thank you for the trust, Miss Summer. I won't let you down.”

  “I know you won't,” she assured him. “That's why I can leave. Try to get at least the bar open by Sevennight. We don't want to miss the endweek business.”

  “Yes, Ma'am.”

  “If I can't get back by next Twoday, I'll send word.” She slapped him on the shoulder and left the tavern, wincing at the mess of debris out front.

  It was a short walk to the Temple Plaza. “Jim!” she called. “Olaf!” The wagons appeared to be unattended, but at her shout, the boys emerged into the rain and waved. “Good job! Time to move. We're going to the corner of Market and Merchant!”

  “Fed and watered the oxen, Ma'am. Took some doing,” Jim declared, eyeing her hopefully as she climbed aboard the front wagon with him.

  “That's another silver for you boys, then,” she assured him, and Jim grinned, showing a missing tooth.

  Nobody was going out into the woods today to fell timber; everyone would be focused on repairs and defense for a while. But at the moment, exhaustion was the general state of the populace. The town was quiet. Summer recited her tasks in her soul during the short ride, then had the boys pull the wagons up right next to the elves.

  Tom appeared to be losing an argument with two very cranky children. “All right, all right! We'll go see him, but first we get the wagons on the road, understand? Some of us will have to catch up.” He looked over at Summer and nodded. “All right, everyone. Get aboard.” Eubexa called out a translation.

  Sheema, the pampered princess, got carried by her man and placed gently in the back of the lead wagon. The others clambered aboard, including the kids. Summer paid off Jim and Olaf, and spotted the gray haired elf approaching with a basket of apples and three loaves of bread. Varga fussed over Orvan, took the food from him and stashed it, then insisted on helping him up.

  Tom Walker climbed up onto the lead wagon seat next to her and gestured to take the reins. She passed them to him, and then waited with a smile for him to put it together. Once she saw his soul working on it, she prompted him, “Remember that favor you owe me?”

  “Yes...?” he answered warily.

  “I'm riding with you to Middleton.”

  Tom seemed to turn that over in his head a few moments, then shrugged. “Welcome, then. Sheema's friend Kevin is apparently joining us as well; he was supposed to head to Middleton with two friends yesterday, and he needs to meet up with them.

  “Also,” the big man added, “the first day of travel will be short. Some of us need to detour north of town and catch up with the wagons later.”

  “What do you need? Maybe I can send someone.”

  Tom shook his head. “We promised Charlie we'd try to help his Papa.”

  Summer blinked as she thought that through, then leaned closer, lowering her voice. “But...the fully possessed can't be saved, can they?” Tom looked hesitant, and Summer's eyes widened. “Tom, my town is in the middle of slaughtering dozens of our own! If there's a way to save them—!” He was shaking his head immediately.

  “There isn't. This is a far shot. If Charlie's Papa is not fully possessed yet, Sheema might, might be able to save him. It's apparently not something she can do often.”

  Summer subsided. The boy had earned the favor. Besides, she knew that any echo of Quazulin who was captured alive would be dragged to the Temple, where Camilla and the others would do their best. She sighed. “All right. I understand. Are we waiting for anyone else?”

  Tom Walker made a final check, counting elves in their wagon and calling out for the count in the rear wagon. “Eleven adults, one child, five days to Middleton,” he muttered. “All right.” He flicked the reins and got the wagon moving. A glance back confirmed that Varga was driving the rear wagon, with Kervan sitting beside her, keeping an eye out for threats.

  They rolled downhill all the way to the West Gate, where they found their path blocked by about a dozen people, holding various weapons. One stepped forward. Summer recognized Ward Crafter and waved to him.

  “We're checking for possessed among everyone leaving town,” Ward announced. Summer looked up at the burned remains of the demon ward on the gate. Well, demon shit.

  “How many got out?” she asked.

  “We think maybe a dozen or score. Plus however many were already outside the town.”

  “Well, I vouch for these people,” Summer told him, pulling out her Amulet of Protection from Demons and holding it up without removing it from her neck. “We've got a couple of spell casters who keep checking us and each other, and we've all got amulets. Plus, some of these people are elves and a few of them are outright immune. May we pass?”

  Ward peered closely at the amulet, and Tom pulled his own out of his shirt. The man sighed. “All right. Since it's you, Summer. Why are you leaving town?”

  “Urgent business in Middleton. I'll be back in a week or a bit more. Daryl will organize repairs to the Ax.”

  Ward nodded. “Hurry back. The town needs you.”

  Summer gave a little laugh. “This town needs my booze, you mean. Never fear. I'll be back as soon as I can.” Ward called out and the volunteer guard troop moved out of the way and pushed the gate farther open. Tom got them moving again, and the wagons rolled out of town. Summer could see his sigh of relief the moment they got outside the walls.

  “I recommend getting past that big boulder before your people stop and run your errand. How long do you think you'll be?”

  “Probably under an hour to walk, plus however long Sheema needs to do her magic.”

  Summer turned that over in her soul and considered the way ahead. “I can get Peter West to put us up in his barn for a couple of hours, out of sight. We'll wait that long, then get back on the road and head for Middleton.”

  “Thank you,” Tom told her with a thoughtful smile. “You're a very handy person to have around.”

  “Thank you, I like to think so.” She noticed that he was eyeing her black leathers and returned his smile, flirting silently for a few moments. After a few moments, he seemed to feel guilty and glanced behind him.

  “Are your elves the jealous type?”

  Tom blinked and got a nervous smile. “Not really. Elves do things differently.”

  “So I noticed. Two women at once, and they both came downstairs happy. That's impressive. I wonder, how many women can you take care of, Tom Walker?” He stared back at her, obviously conflicted. She saw that he was interested, but not thoughtless with his offers. She liked him all the more for that. He was still fumbling for words, so she patted his arm reassuringly.

  “What can I say? I like to be Daring on the road,” she told him with a grin.