“The first stop?” I looked at each of them.
Edie watched me impatiently, as if suspense itself were an offense. Ox stood relaxed, a knowing smile already on his face. Raven leaned lazily against Ox’s side. Lea had one arm crossed over her waist, chin resting in the palm of her other hand, already halfway out of the conversation.
“Yes, Alfie?” Edie said shortly.
“We need to stop at Murph and Mathilda’s.”
“Of course, of course,” Lea said, offering her unnecessary approval. She had no idea who Murph or Mathilda were.
“I’m going to need an instrument for the journey,” I continued. “I think Murph has a couple of mine. Maybe a lute or a flute.”
“Oh, that was funny,” Raven giggled. “Lute or flute, and you didn’t even do that on purpose.”
“Raven, seriously,” Edie said, rolling her eyes.
“It was right there,” Raven said, grinning. “I couldn’t avoid it.”
Ox draped his arm over Raven’s shoulders and looked down at him warmly. “I thought it was funny, little guy.”
“Yes, yes,” Lea said, more thoughtful than amused. “Very droll.”
I waited for what I knew was coming.
Edie stopped walking and turned to face us. “If we’re going to do this, we need to be serious.”
“Oh, Edie,” Lea said mildly. “Can we enjoy a little levity along the way?”
“Okay, okay,” I said quickly, stepping in before the storm could build. I pointed toward a small ramshackle house nearly lost in the dark. Firelight glowed through its windows like candles. “Murph and Mathilda’s place is just over there.”
With its thatched roof, smoke curling from the chimney, and rickety porch, the house looked like a perfect point of departure.
“You think they’ll have provisions?” Raven asked Ox.
“You’ve met Murph, right?” Ox smiled, the implication clear.
“Well, not outside the pub.”
Ox laughed. “You’ll be surprised.”
We crossed the weedy lawn and stepped onto the porch, the boards squeaking loudly.
“Oh, gods,” Edie groaned.
Ox knocked firmly on the crooked door. “Hey, Murph.”
There was a low rumble from inside. After a moment, the door swung open.
Murph stood there looking characteristically disastrous: a small, stocky dwarf with hair like a collapsed haystack. Junk spilled onto the porch behind him.
Edie sighed. Raven raised an eyebrow. Murph blinked at us in surprise.
“Ox, Alfie, Raven,” he said. “You’re out late.”
“And you’re not at the pub,” Ox replied. “Strange night.”
Murph laughed grandly. “Get in here.”
“I don’t even know how,” Edie whispered to Raven.
“Is Mathilda still working tonight?” Raven asked.
“Wow,” Lea whispered, scanning the chaos. “I wonder if he has a spear and shield in here.”
“Don’t even try,” Edie snapped.
“She’s still at the pub,” Murph said, laughing. “You know she can’t resist giving unsolicited motherly advice.”
We followed him through narrow aisles between towering piles of junk. Raven snickered openly. Lea studied the stacks for buried treasure. Edie made herself as small as possible to avoid touching anything.
When we reached the fireplace, Murph turned to us. “Alright. What’s going on?”
“I’ve had enough,” I said.
Murph sighed knowingly. “You made it longer than most, Alfie.”
“You’re heading out?” he asked.
Ox nodded.
Murph looked at Raven. “Did you tell your folks?”
“Yes,” Raven said. “They didn’t like it.”
“Of course they didn’t,” Murph laughed. “You should’ve stayed and grown with the rest of these young’uns. You still look like a child.”
Raven laughed along.
Murph glanced at Edie. “And who’s this young lady?”
Edie surveyed the piles without looking at him. “None of your concern.”
“Well then,” Murph said pleasantly. “How can I help?”
“Do you still have one of my old instruments?”
“Of course,” Murph said, then paused. “Well… I think I do.”
He began digging.
“A-ha! Your old hand drum.” More digging. “And your piccolo.” Still digging. “And for dessert, your lute.”
“It’s battered,” he said, holding it up. “Needs restringing. But I couldn’t part with it. Always reminded me of you playing in the streets for tips.”
“I was hoping for just a flute and a lute.” Raven whispered. “So close.”
“Do you have any weapons?” Lea asked, a little too eagerly.
“Absolutely not,” Edie cut in.
“Oh, but I absolutely do,” Murph said cheerfully.
“I was not speaking to you,” Edie said sharply, jerking her thumb at Lea.
I leaned close to her. “Be kind. He’s helping.”
Murph, wisely, stopped responding to Edie and continued searching.
“Murph,” Ox said, “do you have a battle-axe?”
“Right over here.”
He lifted a two-handed axe from the corner of the room and handed it to Ox as if it weighed nothing.
“No giants in my future,” Murph said, clapping his hands. “What’s next?”
“Bedrolls?” I asked.
“Five of you,” he said, counting. “Here.”
He produced five bedrolls and laid them by the fire.
“Backpacks?” Ox asked.
“Of course.”
He tossed them one by one onto the pile.
“Provisions?” Ox continued.
“We are not eating anything from this house,” Edie muttered.
“Murph’s disorganized,” I whispered. “Not dirty.”
He placed a large leather sack down. “Cured meat and dried fruit. Ten days’ worth.”
Ox smiled. “You’ve helped us more than we deserve.”
“Nonsense,” Murph said. “You can stay the night.”
“I am not sleeping on junk,” Edie grumbled.
“No,” I said quickly. “We’ll camp outside.”
Murph nodded. “At least use the backyard.”
We set camp behind the house. Lea lit the fire with a single precise flame from her finger. Soon, everyone settled into their bedrolls.
Their breathing slowed. Dreams claimed them.
I closed my eyes just as distant wolf howls carried through the night.
That’s when I knew the road ahead would be more dangerous than any pretend battles of our past.