Guardian Angel Chapters 4 and 5 (Patreon)

Here are two more chapters of Guardian Angel, which will catch it up to the published chapters of Bodyguard. They're still fairly raw and in large part adapted from existing text, so who knows what kind of fun mistakes may be left in? Let me know, will you?

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Chapter 4. Day 1 - Meeting Falk and Touanne

Now that she’d relaxed a little, the pain in Ana’s side was slowly becoming unbearable. Despite that, she did her best to take in the sights. She would be forced to stay here for at least a few days unless she wanted to risk killing herself, and it was impossible to know exactly what would become important in the near future.

The outpost was a town of almost haphazardly mixed materials. Different woods, red or yellow brick, granite and other stone — different buildings had used whatever the builder had available and could afford. Well built, sure, but… messy. Most of the buildings were two stories tall, and they favored a style where the whole front of the first floor could be opened to the street. Ana saw a mix of stores and workshops, and sometimes both in one space, as they walked along. She assumed that the proprietors lived upstairs.

The street that the guard, Tor, led her along was paved with stone bricks and lined with tall, narrow trees that looked decades older than the buildings around them, and while Ana wouldn’t call it heavily trafficked she still saw a number of people moving between the various businesses. On the whole, people looked friendly. Happy, even, by the way they smiled and talked to each other. Tor seemed to be well known, and many of the people greeted him with a quick word or gesture. Despite that, Ana kept her purse hanging two thirds open on her hip, ready to draw if necessary. She knew how fast a smiling face could turn ugly.

The street they were on was completely straight, and ahead she could see a towering black obelisk reaching into the sky.

“What’s that?” She asked Tor, though her voice hitched slightly. Speaking was becoming painful. “The big black stone ahead.”

“Hmm? Oh, that’s the Waystone. Never seen one before?” Tor answered. He didn’t sound too surprised, so honesty seemed fine.

“No,” Ana admitted. “I haven’t.”

“Fair enough. By your level I’m guessing you’ve been pretty sheltered, and far from every city has one.”

“What is it, a monument of some kind?”

“I suppose you could call it that, but its most important role is that it’s how we stabilize the splinter. That, and it’s the easiest way to get in and out. Ours is in the center of the outpost, but not every outpost is built around their Waystone. Some like to keep it outside of the settlement, since—” He looked at Ana with concern. “Are you sure that you’re okay to be walking?”

“I’ll be fine,” she said. “But I need to see a doctor once we talk to your captain.”

“If you’re sure…” Tor sounded skeptical. “Maybe—?”

“Please. Mister Tor. I’ll be fine.”

Tor’s look told Ana just how convincing she’d failed to be, but he didn’t argue.

As they got close to the Waystone the street merged into a large square. In the center of the square was a platform, and in the center of that was the Waystone. The thing was at least fifty feet tall and maybe five wide at the base, a towering spike of unevenly cut black rock.

“This way,” Tor said, cutting diagonally across the square. There were a few people here, though the square looked more like a meeting place than a place of business. Some shops that opened onto the square and a few stalls sold drinks and meals, and nothing else that Ana could see. “Almost there. The guardhouse is the big stone building ahead. That’s where we’re headed.”

There was indeed an imposing, three-story building of dark gray stone ahead of them. A man and a woman, each wearing one of the orange armbands, lounged outside and greeted Tor as he approached.

“Hey, Tor. Who’s this?” the woman asked in a bored voice before she took a curious look at Ana, then, “And what the hell is she doing here instead of with the midwife?”

“Hey, Sira. This is Miss Anastasia. She’s an accidental,” Tor said, and the woman gave Ana a sympathetic look. “Is the captain in?”

“Sure is. Head on in,” she said and opened the door for them, while the man just gave them both a nod. “And welcome to the splinter, girl. We’ll get you settled in, don’t you worry.”

There was nothing like a reception inside. Instead there were a few tables at which more rough-looking individuals with or without orange armbands sat, talking, playing cards or other games, and drinking from mugs. Nobody paid them much mind as they entered beyond a casual wave of a hand, and Tor simply led Ana past the tables and through a door at the back and side of the room. There were stairs leading up and down, and Tor took her up.

“Up are the offices, and then the captain’s apartment,” Tor explained. “Down are the cells, though we’ve barely ever used those. Pretty peaceful place, this outpost.”

Up one flight of stairs a door opened in the same direction as they’d entered, leading into a small seating area with a number of doors. Another flight of stairs continued up, but it was blocked by a small gate which Ana could have easily stepped over. If her side didn’t hurt so abominably, that is. A sign on the gate read, “Stop! Private domicile!” in complex letters that were at once completely unfamiliar and yet completely readable to Ana.

Ana stopped and stared. What the hell was this? How could she read that?

“Anastasia?” Tor asked, his concern obvious. “Is something wrong?”

Now that she thought about it, Tor wasn’t speaking English, nor had anyone else. She’d just been going along, not noticing, because she understood every word everyone said. She did the same thing with Spanish and French sometimes, not noticing which language she was speaking, but this language was completely unfamiliar.

“I need to sit down,” she said. Her legs felt as wobbly as her voice. She wasn’t speaking English either.

“Oh, damn!” Tor said, rushing forward and supporting her by the elbow. “Here, sit,” he said, indicating a bench just inside the door. The room was much longer than it was wide, with three doors on the long side and one on the short side. Tor strode over quickly and knocked on the single door.

“Come,” came a strong voice from inside, and Tor opened the door.

“Captain, I’ve brought in an accidental,” he said without entering the office.

“An accidental? Bring him in.”

“If you don’t mind, Captain, could you come out? She’s worse off than I’d thought.”

Ana could hear the scrape of a chair from inside the office, and a man exited past Tor.

Captain Falk was perhaps in his mid forties. He had a long face with olive skin, and dark, close cropped hair which was spattered with gray. His label read [Human Peacekeeper (29)]. He regarded Ana with serious, light brown eyes for a moment, then turned to Tor.

“Mister Barlo, why have you brought this young lady here instead of to see the midwife?”

“Apologies, Captain. We walked past her shop, but I didn’t realize how badly Miss Anastasia here was hurt.”

Oh. That was nice, Ana though. He didn’t even mention how Ana had insisted that she was fine.

“In that case, Barlo, please go see if Mistress Touanne has time to come here.”

“Of course, Captain,” Tor said and left quickly, leaving Ana’s pack by the door and Ana alone with the older man. 

“Well, Miss, I'm Captain Tober Falk,” he said, offering his hand. She reached out and shook it automatically, and he looked at the handshake curiously for a moment, then shrugged.

“Anastasia,” she said, her voice much more tight and flat than she’d intended. She’d wanted to be charming, to get on this man’s good side from the start. But she was feeling a little light headed — not quite all there.

“Miss Anastasia,” Falk said gently, “I suggest you take that armor off and lie down. You’re clearly not well.”

“I’m—” Ana said, scooting back so that she leaned against the corner of the wall. “I’ll be fine.”

She was not going to be fine. She knew that very well. She was feeling faint. Short of breath. She was slightly confused, and in a nauseating amount of pain. All symptoms of something distinctly bad.

“Miss, please,” Falk said. “I could—” He stopped himself, then said, “Ah, of course. Apologies, Miss.”

He walked over to the door closest to his own, knocked twice, then opened it without waiting for an answer. “Marra,” he said through the door, “would you come out here, please?”

“What is it, Captain?” a mature woman’s voice asked, stressing the rank, and shortly thereafter a heavyset woman with long, curly red hair was visible through the open door,

“I have a new arrival here, Marra, and I think she needs some kindness. Would you be a dear and get us all some tea?”

“All right, Captain,” the woman answered in a long-suffering voice, then looked at Ana. “Goodness, Tober,” she said to the captain. “Why isn’t she with Touanne already?”

“I sent Mister Barlo to fetch her, dear,” Falk said softly, then louder, “Now how about that tea?”

“As you wish, Captain,” the woman, Marra, said before bustling down the stairs.

Falk went into his own office and came out with a chair, sitting down three yards away from Ana before speaking again. “Miss Anastasia, our settlement’s best Healer is coming to take a look at you. Until then, do you feel up to covering some of the formalities?”

“I think so,” Ana said, though there was a groan in her voice. Shit. Had she aggravated her injury carrying that pack? Was she bleeding internally? And they called this Touanne woman a “healer,” not a doctor. How screwed was she?

How much did any of this matter? She listened to Falk speak, and she understood everything he said, but now that she was aware of the fact that every single word he said was in a language that she was completely unfamiliar with she wasn't sure how much she could trust of what she saw, felt, and heard.

“Good, good,” Falk said, his voice calm and steady. “So. Welcome to our splinter. It doesn’t have a name yet on account of not having stabilized, but signs are good and we’re very hopeful. My name is Tober Falk. I’m a captain of the Bluesky Guild, which controls the splinter, and in charge of the safety of this settlement. If you don’t mind, I’d like to know who you are and what you’re doing here.”

“Anastasia Cole,” she said, her voice strained but trying to be pleasant. “I’m an… accidental, like Tor — Mister Barlo? Like he said. I woke up in the forest last night.”

With Nic braindead under her, and three lunatics attacking her with daggers and swords. She had an urge to tell him that, but it didn't really make any difference, did it?

Falk sighed. “Mercifully rare, but not unheard of. You’re not the first accidental we’ve had, though none this cycle, and none have chosen to stay. Now, I see you’ve had some luck, good and bad,” he continued, indicating her dress and her pack. “I doubt that you arrived with that equipment. I’ve never seen an accidental who was adequately prepared. And as we’ve already established, you, Miss, are clearly injured. But don’t worry. Touanne, the midwife, is an excellent Healer. Very strong in the Craft of Life. And if she’s too busy we’ll give you a potion and you’ll be just fine.”

He paused, then said, “Would you mind explaining the equipment?”

“There was a camp near where I woke up,” she said. “It looked abandoned, so I took what I needed.” She tried to play embarrassed, looking away and making herself blush, but with the state she was in it was hard to say how successful she was.

Falk regarded her neutrally. “The armor, the weapons strapped to your pack, they were all from that camp?”

She might as well tell him that part. She'd just have to twist it a little. She had already told Tor that she’d been attacked, and she’d decided to be mostly open about what happened. They probably wouldn't — what? Hang her? — for defending herself. Falk seemed like a sympathetic guy. Worst case they might lock her up for a while they investigated.

“No, Captain,” she said, working hard to turn on the waterworks. It didn’t take much. She was on the edge as it was. “I found my way to the road, but on the way here I was attacked.”

“Attacked, you say?” Falk said with concern. “By animals? Demons?”

“You might call them demons,” Ana said piteously. “But they were human. Two men. One distracted me with promises of help while the other snuck up behind me.” She looked at Falk with fear and pain in her eyes. “I can only imagine what their intentions were, but I’ve been taught some self defense, and I had a dagger from the camp and—” She didn’t so much force out a sob as stop holding it back. “I don’t know what happened, but the next thing I knew they were both dead!”

Falk was scowling now. “Bandits, in my splinter,” he said darkly. “With your level so low, and a social Class besides, I’m sure they underestimated you. They would never have expected you to know how to defend yourself. Do you know anything about them?”

“No, Captain. I’m sorry. I was so distraught with suddenly being here, and then being accosted like that… I think one of them was named Larry, or something like that, but I’m not sure. The other was a Ranger.”

“I understand,” Falk said. “I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough who’s missing. It’s a small community, after all. Ah, here is Marra with the tea!” His face brightened as the short, somewhat round woman arrived up the stairs with a tray bearing four steaming mugs.

“I took the liberty of bringing an extra for Touanne,” she said, then noticed Ana’s tear streaked face and puffy eyes. “Oh, Tober, you beast,” she scolded. “What have you done to the poor girl?”

“Miss Anastasia was just telling me how she was attacked by two men on the road,” Falk said, his anger about the situation clear in his voice.

“Attacked?” Marra looked at Ana. Her face twisted into a cruel smile, a strange thing on her cheerful face. “And here you are, Miss, wearing armor much too large for you. You really showed those bastards, didn’t you?”

Ana gave her a weak smile. “I suppose I did, Ma’am.”

“Oh, don’t you ‘Ma’am’ me. I’m Marra, or Mistress Falk if absolutely must be formal. Now,” she turned to Captain Falk. “Will there be anything else, Captain?”

“No, lov— Marra, that is all for now. Thank you.” He picked up his mug and turned to Ana. “While we wait, let me tell you a little about what you’ve gotten yourself, or been dragged, perhaps, into. This is a young splinter. We’ve only been here a few cycles, barely established as all things go. Now, again, you have some good luck, some bad. Unfortunately for you, this is a low-ambient splinter. That means that the cycles are long, and to make matters worse, we’re in the beginning of a cycle.”

“I don’t know what that means,” Ana said. “I don’t know anything about splinters and Waystones and all this. What do you mean about the cycle? Why is that bad?”

“Of course. I’m sorry, I should have considered your level compared to your age. You must have been very sheltered, am I right?”

“I suppose,” Ana said noncommittally.

“Well, the Waystone only opens at the end of the cycle, unless we force it, which we’re extremely reluctant to do. Terribly destabilizing for the splinter, you see. No one can leave until then, meaning that you will not be able to leave this splinter for…” He turned and spoke loudly towards Marra’s door. “Marra! How long until the end of the cycle?”

“Hundred and forty-seven days!” came the reply.

“Thanks!” He turned back to Ana. “So neither you nor anyone else will be able to leave for one hundred and forty-seven days.”

“Oh,” Ana said. She had no idea how to feel about that.

“But, you have some good luck as well!” Falk said with great enthusiasm. “This is a low-level splinter, meaning low-risk. Easy crystals! I know that you have a civilian Class, but even you will be able to get along if you just practice some combat Skills and join a casual team of other non-combatants. Who knows? Perhaps you’ll get a taste for it and will want to switch to a combat Class? You’re low level, after all. You’d surpass your current level in weeks, I’d bet. And while the splinter is low-level it is considered to have high potential for development since it’s an eternal summer splinter. We expect agriculture to boom in the next few cycles. That means high investment and high levels of support from the Bluesky Guild, which keeps prices down!”

There came the sound of more than one set of boots on the stairs, and Falk looked out the door.

“And here comes Tor — Mister Barlo, I mean —  with the midwife,” he said. “Thank you, Barlo. Touanne, thank you for coming. Would you mind taking a look at this young lady, Anastasia, here?”

Touanne, the midwife, was an [Elfin Healer (23)], a willowy woman with fair, freckled skin and straight, chestnut hair that hung to her shoulders. Ana would guess that she was in her early thirties, and there was something about her that radiated concern and compassion. She could probably trust her. She’d have to, if Touanne was it for local medical professionals. She relaxed, and felt her head spin, just a little. After a few seconds she realized that she’d been staring. She’d seen Touanne’s lips move, but she had no idea what she’d said.

The woman in front of her turned to the captain with an urgent expression. "Captain," she said, "I need to borrow your office. Right now. Tor, help Miss Anastasia inside."

Tor quickly moved to put Ana's arm on her uninjured side over his shoulder. She protested weakly, but she really didn't feel well, and she didn't sense any danger from him. She let herself be helped to her feet and shuffled into the captain's office. Falk picked up the chair he'd brought and took it back inside.

"In the chair, there," Touanne directed, and Tor helped Ana sit. "Thank you for your help, gentlemen," Touanne said to Falk and Tor, then unceremoniously shooed them out and closed the door.

Chapter 5. Day 1 - Talking to Touanne

Ana sat silently in her chair as the men left. The woman, the Healer, who had just arrived took a second chair from by the wall and sat down slowly, facing Ana with a smile.

"Hello," the woman said. Her voice was gentle and warm. "Torden tells me that your name is Anastasia. Is that right?"

"Yes," Ana said. She had to focus just to sit upright in the chair, and her side felt alternately on fire or almost completely numb.

"My name is Touanne," the woman continued. "I'm a Healer. I would like to examine you, if that's all right, and help if I can."

"Okay," Ana said.

"Thank you," Touanne said. "First I'm going to do something to help you focus. If that's all right with you, please give me your hands.”

Ana had absolutely no idea what this woman thought that she could do, but at the moment Ana was pretty sure that she might be dying, so she'd try anything. She held her hands out, and Touanne took them. The midwife's hands were soft and warm.

Touanne closed her eyes, and Ana felt a rush and gasped as her head cleared. Just like that, like she’d had two energy drinks and a shot of adrenaline.

Gasping fucking hurt!

"There," Touanne said. "Before I examine you, I want you to know that you don't need to tell me anything you don't want to, but there’s also no need to pretend, or try to hide anything from me. I promise that nothing that I see or hear will leave this room. That's absolute. It doesn't matter if you're a criminal or an angel. Anything you need me to know, or just need to say, you can tell me without worry. All right?"

“Yeah,” Ana said, bewildered by what had just happened and a little taken aback by the woman’s earnestness. “All right.”

“Good. Now, I need to touch your injuries, skin on skin, to determine what is wrong and what to do about them. I’ll be as gentle as I can, but I can’t promise that it won’t hurt at all. I’ll show you with the bruises on your face, and then we can go on from there if you’re comfortable. All right?”

“All right,” Ana said. Something about this felt wrong. Like she should be more on guard, more suspicious, but the way the woman held herself, the way she looked at Ana, the tone of her voice, they were all so… earnest and sympathetic that Ana found herself wanting to trust her. Anybody trying this hard to put you at ease should be immediately suspect, yet Ana wanted to believe that this woman truly, more than anything, just wanted to help. And finding herself unable to be suspicious of someone was terrifying.

But she was also still pretty sure that she was bleeding internally and might be dying, so she'd just have to suck it up.

“Here,” Touanne said, “just sit still, and breathe slow and deep.” Her hand touched the side of Ana’s bruised face, her fingers feather light, and there was a slight tingling. No pain or other discomfort, just a mild version of your hand or foot waking up.

“No broken bones,” the woman said, her eyes closed. “The bruising is deep, but… there. It should be gone in a few hours.” She opened her eyes and removed her hand. “Now, how does your cheek feel?”

“Fine,” Ana said, amazed at how inadequate that word was. The ache that she had felt ever since the fight with the bandits was gone. When she touched her cheek it was tender, but there was no lingering pain. “What did you do?”

“I healed it, of course!” Touanne said with a small smile. “But why are you surprised? I told you that I’m a Healer. Removing pain is the easiest aspect of the Craft of Healing.”

“And you can just… do that?” Ana asked. “With just a touch? No medicine?”

“There’s more involved than just a touch, I assure you,” Touanne said, sounding happy to explain a little about her craft. “And potions certainly have their place, with or without healing to accompany them. Massive blood loss, for example, is extremely difficult and strenuous to heal, while a good potion can do the job in minutes, seconds even if the quality is high enough. But do you really not know these things?”

"I've been very sheltered,” Ana said, realizing that she’d led the conversation into dangerous territory, and using the convenient excuse that the two guards had provided her with. “I don’t know much about, ah, healing.”

“Oh, one of those places,” Touanne said sympathetically. “Well, if you’re interested, I would be happy to give you a basic introduction to magic. But some other time, perhaps? For now, would you be comfortable with showing me the injury to your side? Torden thought you might have injured your ribs, and from observing you I'm inclined to agree.”

“Yeah, okay,” Ana said. Right. Magic. The woman was casually talking about magic. And unless reiki was very real and far more effective than even Karate Kid gave it credit for…

"Ah… I feel like I might be dying?"

Touanne looked at her with concern, but didn't rush. "I try not to disregard my patients' instincts, but I think you'll be safe until I can help you. Now, let's get that armor off."

"Yeah, okay," Ana said. She tried to do it herself but it hurt too much, and she had to sit patiently as Touanne undid the straps and carefully lifted the stiff leather over her head.

“We will need to remove the dress completely,” Touanne said afterward. “Again, I need skin contact, and I need to be able to see how large the injury is. Is that all right?”

Ana hesitated. There were things she’d rather not show anyone, but if Touanne could do to her side what she’d done to her face… In the end it came down to the fact that Ana wasn't too proud to risk dying over some potential embarrassment. And Touanne had promised not to tell anyone about anything she heard or saw.

“Fine,” Ana said. “Can you, ah…”

“Of course. Turn sideways on the chair, please,” Touanne said. The woman carefully and professionally helped Ana shift the straps over her arms, pulling the whole thing down to around her waist. It was a little awkward getting it down without touching her injured side, but they managed.

Ana’s heart sank a little when she heard Touanne’s sharp intake of breath. Here it comes, she thought.

“That’s marvelous,” Touanne said. “The colors… and it’s so lifelike! It’s a firebird, isn’t it? And this!” Touanne said, gently touching the band of Ana’s bra. “It looks so practical! Where did you get this?”

“It’s not even a comfortable one,” Ana grumbled. What she wouldn’t give to have been brought here in a pair of boyshorts and a wireless bra instead. “The tattoo… it’s a phoenix, yeah.”

Ana had a love-hate relationship with her tattoo. Objectively it was well done, with sharp, smooth lines and beautiful coloring. Rising from the small of her back, the tail feathers followed the curve of her butt, the bird had its head low, wings raised with the tips just under her shoulders. Big, but possible to cover. She could wear U and V-backs as long as they weren’t too deep. It was just that… she’d gotten it as soon as she turned 18, with a teenager’s mind, full of ideas about symbolism and yadda yadda. Now she still saw the symbolism, but mostly it just felt tacky, and most people would have no idea what she’d gone through, and what it meant to her. But she’d had it for years, and had never once considered getting it removed, which was evidence enough to herself that it was worth the occasional eye-roll.

“Well!” Touanne said. “As much as I could sit here for an hour and admire the art you’re decorated yourself with, that bruising along your side looks very nasty. I’m going to touch it now, okay? Again, I can’t promise that it won’t hurt, but I’ll be as gentle as I can.”

“Go ahead,” Ana said, steeling herself.

This time Touanne placed both her hands palm down on Ana’s skin, one under her armpit and the other on her waist. Ana turned her head to look, and yep, that’s how big the bruise was. She hadn’t been able to tell. Her whole side was just a mass of pain, making it hard to determine where exactly it came from.

The fact that Touanne gasped when the tingling began did not put Ana at ease. “Oh, you poor woman,” Touanne said. “I'm so sorry for doubting the severity of… You carried a pack with this? How far? How are you still conscious?”

“I’ve had worse,” Ana replied, thinking back to a particularly vicious beating she’d gotten once that left her broken and shivering in an alley. She’d been lucky to survive that time, and probably wouldn’t have if one of the kinder old bums hadn’t taken her to a free clinic in his cart.

“Oh, I can see that,” Touanne said, and her voice was full of such warmth and sadness that Ana felt slightly ashamed to have doubted her, or even having wanted to doubt her. It was not a feeling she was used to. She didn’t like it.

“Knotted bones, scarring on the lungs. You’ve lived a hard life, haven’t you?” Touanne asked.

“Does it matter?” Ana snapped, her shields coming up immediately. She’d accept some measure of sympathy, but she wouldn’t invite or tolerate pity. “Can you help or not?”

“My apologies,” Touanne said sincerely. “I didn’t mean to pry. You have one broken rib, and one cracked one. They've done some damage, but I've stopped the bleeding and I'll help it heal cleanly, so that there will be no deep scarring. Your lungs, too. The scars are old, but I should be able to reduce them, at least.” She was silent for a while, and the tingling intensified, then fell off until it was gone, taking the aches and pain with it.

“There,” Touanne said. There was a sheen of sweat on her brow, and she was slightly out of breath. “You should feel much better already, and in a day or two you should be able to move normally again. Until then you should treat the injury like any other. That means no heavy lifting, no strenuous exercise, and no sleeping on that side, even if it doesn’t hurt. I cannot stress this enough. The pain is gone, but the injury itself is not! ”

“I'll remember. Thank you,” Ana said, moving her arm carefully and feeling much less pain in her side when she did so. “I’m sorry for snapping,” she added diplomatically. This woman was extremely useful. Having her on their side could be invaluable. “I know that you meant well.”

“No, again, I apologize. I should not have pried. Your story is your own, and I should not have tried to lure it out when you were clearly being restrained with your answers.”

“Either way, thank you. Now, what do I… I mean, do I pay you, or…?”

Touanne laughed softly. “There’s no need for that. Torden told me of your circumstances, and I think you’ll need your coin for other things until you get your feet under you. Besides, for those who truly need my help I usually do it for free, unless I really don’t like the patient in question.”

“Oh,” Ana said, no longer used to or much liking charity. “Are you sure there isn’t anything I can do?”

“If you really want to help, there are certain plants and demon parts that I can use for making potions. Yes, I do make potions. Like I said, they have their place, and can do things that healing cannot. Anyway, if you decide to take up Delving to support yourself, or just to pass the time, I would appreciate it if you might come by my shop, and I can give you the details. I’d pay, of course.”

“If I do,” Ana said carefully, “I promise that I’ll come by.”

“That’s all I ask.”

There was one thing that Ana wanted to ask. She’d been curious ever since she saw Touanne but the moment to bring it up hadn’t really presented itself, so she just went for it. “I’d like to ask you something — and please, tell me if this is rude, all right?”

“Go on,” Touanne said, a curious glint in her eyes.

“When I look at you, your label says that you’re elfin.”

“Yes?”

“Well, I know one meaning of that word, and it doesn’t really fit you. But it says that you’re elfin the way that Tor or Falk are human. So… what are you? What’s an elfin person?”

Touanne looked at Ana for a moment, snorted, then broke out into genuine, full throated laughter. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Oh, sheltered indeed!” she said between bouts. “Is that all? We’re a people like any other! Some say that we came into being when elves and humans mingled at the beginning of time, and maybe there’s something to that. We’re less different from either elves or humans than they are from each other, and we can have children with either, though with difficulty, while you, for example, could not have a child with an elven man at all. Although,” she said with a mischievous glint in her eye, “some consider that an advantage. But no, don’t worry! It’s never rude to seek to cure one’s ignorance.”

“Just people,” Ana said. “Got it. Can I ask something else? And you swear you wont tell anyone that I asked this?”

Ignorance was weakness, and she had never been comfortable with being seen as weak. If you were weak, you were a potential victim. But if she was going to ask anyone, this woman seemed like her best bet.

“I do,” Touanne answered seriously. “Whatever it is you need to know, just ask.”

“Okay,” Ana said, preparing to make a fool of herself. “Does everyone get little messages in front of their eyes, and what the hell are Growth Crystals?”