I led the way, with Bernadette behind me, then Cal leading the donkey with Berryhop, and Rachel bringing up the rear. Hills and shrubs, shrubs and hills, not many places for bandits to hide, and almost nothing to block out the sun as we walked.

  We had one bandit attack, despite all that, if you could call it such, but we chased them off with a couple well placed arrows from me, and Cal. The last town had warned us of missing caravans though, so we all kept our bows strung, and ready in our hands.

  When things got too quiet, Bernie would start up a song. Cal sang baritone, Berryhop soprano, though she was a bit pitchy. We sounded nice as a group. We only had one song that we really had down, and we sang it at every tavern stop.

  No singing now. Cal said he had a bad feeling about this stretch. A craggy hill rose up to our left, casting a welcome shadow down on us, but providing our first bit of possible cover for ambush.

  I tucked my bow under my armpit, and drank some water, scanning the hill as we walked.

  Movement. Was it a shadow playing tricks, or tricks from the shadows? My hands screwed the cap back on the waterskin. I readied my bow.

  With my eyes on the hill, I wasn’t looking at my feet. A rock nearly sent me sprawling. Bernie grabbed me, kept me steady.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  Before I could answer, an arrow lodged itself in Bernie’s hand on my shoulder. The chainmail kept me safe. Blood spurt from Bernie’s hand.

  “Get to cover!” I yelled, grabbing Bernie’s good hand, and pulling her behind the cart.

  Cal’s eyes went to the hill. He fired back.

  I cast a bubble spell on the donkey. An arrow pinged from it immediately.

  Shrubs toppled over at a 90 degree angle, as the elaborate camouflage covers were tossed aside, and kobolds emerged, spears in hand.

  I snapped the arrow in Bernie’s hand, and she pulled the rest through. A quick heal light wounds. She flexed the hand, and her mobility seemed unaffected. She drew her swords, Thorn and Fascinator, and met the first that came close.

  The kobold lunged with his spear. First a slice removed the spearpoint, then she drove Thorn through his scally snout.

  I glanced over the top of the cart, and to the hill. A kobold fell from a hole in the cliff face. I went to the donkey, grabbed his reins and led him further behind the cover.

  No time to think, because more rushed from hiding spots down the road ahead. I grabbed Rachel by the shoulder, pointed at them and said, “go get ‘em! I’ll protect Cal and Berry.”

  Rachel roared, disappeared in a flash of multicolored sparks, and reappeared in front of the advancing kobolds. I saw her skewer first one, then the other with her rapier, tossing his limp body at the feet of those approaching, before turning my attention to Bernie.

  I nocked an arrow, and sent it at the kobold that was circling around her. It grazed his back. He wheeled on me. I sent another arrow that pierced right through his eye, and he dropped. Thank god I had Provoker to do its thing.

  Berryhop poked her head up from behind a clay water jug, and fired a glass sphere up at the cliff face. It exploded into thick smoke.

  The next volley of arrows went way wide of the cart.

  “Good one!” I yelled.

  “Thanks!” she called back, ducking back into cover.

  In moments, we’d collapsed the attack, and sent them running for the hills. Bernie, and Rachel killed the few that couldn’t escape.

  And then we were safe.

  The donkey had escaped harm, luckily. We’d only been on the road a week. I’d hate to have to pull the cart myself.

  We took the time to gather the kobolds, and laid them on the side of the road. We didn’t burn them like the goblins. Apparently, there was no hazard to letting them lie past the typical scavengers it would attract.

  They didn’t carry much on them, only scored a couple dozen silvers, and some arrows too short for our bows. But maybe they’d fit a crossbow.

  After a couple more hours worth of travel, we set up camp for the night at the base of a grassy hill, shaded by tall shrubs. This was, of course, after we’d vetted the shrubs for the presence of hiding kobolds.

  The cart had tents for each of us, but with Berryhop being so small, and Bernie and I being a couple, we ended up only using three. One for Bernie and I, one for Cal, and one for Berryhop and Rachel.

  Nights out here were cold, and we risked a fire to warm us before we wrapped up in blankets for the night. Cal had shot some prairie rabbits, and with Berryhop adding some mushrooms, we had a decent stew. Caleb had set us up with plenty of salt, mostly for food preservation, but we spared some for seasoning. And Cal had scrounged some spices, mostly herbs.

  I would have killed for some black pepper. But it was hearty enough, especially with some wine to wash it down.

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  Rachel regaled Berryhop with the stories of our previous travels, with Bernie and I adding details where we could. Soon, it was deep into the night, but none of us seemed eager to pack it in. Maybe it was the afternoon’s combat that had us jittery still. Or maybe it was the fact that we just enjoyed each other’s company that much.

  Berryhop had proved to be a good addition to the team. Bernie didn’t seem to be jealous of her, and even though she was still a little weird around me, we were learning to replace those strange feelings with new comradery.

  Cal sang some elven songs, and we all just listened. The night wind whistled through the brush, the crickets chirped their accompaniment, and the fire danced across his face in a staccato rhythm. When he was done, he bid us goodnight.

  That seemed to break the spell, and Berryhop headed in next.

  “So, when are we finishing this?” Bernadette asked Rachel.

  Rachel gestured to me. I just shrugged. It was late, and my brain was fried.

  “I mean, I think we all agree that we need to get stronger, and that we need to kill this dragon, but after that, is it enough?” Bernie asked. “What level do we need to be to finally win this for good?”

  “Should I ask the DM?” I offered.

  “Not yet,” Rachel sighed. “He’d just be evasive.”

  “Well,” I added, “just to give us perspective, Caleb, uh King Caleb, is level 18 as a single class Paladin. And he was able to easily fight a Knight of the Word without backup. I think we’d need to be at least that.”

  “Okay. So we need to basically double our levels,” Rachel said.

  “And just to let you know what we’re up against, the monocle listed Sofia’s level as 32,” I added.

  “32?!” Bernadette gasped.

  “Yep. And she has almost 300 hit points.”

  “Shit,” Rachel cursed.

  “Yeah, I think that settles it,” I said. “We all need to be epic level. Even Caleb. If we reach level 20, I think we’ll have what it takes to beat this, and go home.”

  “And we need to start thinking of picking up Boons as well,” Bernadette said. “Killing this dragon should do it. But any ‘significant feat’ is supposed to work as well.”

  “Would killing Captain Wen count?” I asked.

  Rachel gazed into the fire, and took a sip of wine.

  “I think if Killing Captain Wen didn’t count,” Bernie said. “I’d be pissed as hell. She’s the baddest lieutenant Sofia has.”

  “Then it’s decided,” Rachel said. “We get to level 20, and then we finish this.”

  Rachel stood. “Good night y’all.”

  Soon, it was just Bernadette and me. She went to our tent. I checked on the donkey, made sure it had plenty of space to move around on its leash, and that it was securely tied, then followed.

  I sat next to Bernadette on the bedroll. She wordlessly put her arms around my neck, and kissed me.

  There is a myth — or maybe not a myth, more like an oversimplification — that over time passion dims, that the reason people constantly move from one person to the next, is that they are chasing that first spark of passion. I’m not sure it works like that. I’m not sure passion dims over time. But the shape of it changes. Instead of a rushing stream, where one must only dip their hands and drink, passion becomes a deep well, where one must let down a long rope to reach. In either case, the water is no less sweet.

  We’d only been dating for less than two months. Things had not changed one bit. The fires of passion engulfed us in moments.

  My fingers dug into the soft skin of her hips at the hem of her shirt. Her teeth clicked against mine. My tongue sought hers. I pushed her down on the bedroll. She wrapped her legs around me.

  Soon, she was bucking her hips against me.

  I sat up just long enough to rip my shirt over my head. She smiled up at me, hooked her arms around my neck, and pulled me back down.

  When we were done, she mercifully let me regain my breath.

  I stared at the thin sliver of moonlight that had broken through the slit in the tent above us. She lay on her stomach next to me, eyes closed, serene in her nakedness, the small of her back just escaped from the covers.

  “I’m satisfied,” she cooed.

  “Thank god,” I said. “I’m exhausted. That was enough for me.”

  “I don’t know if I know what ‘enough’ means,” she said. “But I’m tired too.”

  She interlaced her hand with mine.

  “I hate it here,” I said. “But I think that if all of it was to be with you, it would have been worth it.”

  “That’s nice,” she said. “I don’t think of anything at all.”

  “It’s that good, huh?” I asked facetiously.

  “I think we’re that good,” she corrected.

  “Indeed.”

  The silence stretched on for a while. I listened to her breathing. Eventually we both wrapped up in the blanket. She grabbed my arm, and I could feel her breasts against me, and her breath against my neck.

  “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you,” she said.

  “I’m right here,” I whispered back. “I’m not going anywhere. What’s this about?”

  “If you weren’t wearing your mail shirt, that arrow could have downed you.”

  “But I was wearing my mail shirt,” I countered.

  She sat up on one arm. Her brown eyes gazed at me intently.

  “We all rely on you. Not just for your healing. But even then, if you go down, even if we made it, the whole team would fall apart.”

  “Then I’ll just not go down. Wen wasn’t able to do it. A thousand skeletons wasn’t able to do it. And even then, Caleb can heal too.”

  “Caleb isn’t here.”

  “He isn’t, is he?”

  “It’s just us.”

  “Then we’re going to have to be enough. If nobody else will help us, we’ll just have to be able to do it on our own.”

  “I don’t have many spell slots,” she said, eyes cutting to the top of the tent as she thought. “But maybe I should swap out one of my spells for a healing spell. I wonder if Robin will let me.”

  “I’m sure he will,” I said.

  I gave her a small kiss. She smiled.

  “We really need to get some sleep,” she said.

  “I was trying to,” I said.

  She bit me playfully on the shoulder. I grabbed her and kissed all along the side of her face and neck.

  “Stop! Stop!” she said.

  We descended into giggles.

  Soon, we were both asleep. I slept deeply, hadn’t slept so hard since we’d left the tower.

  In the morning, we broke down the camp, and got the tents back into the cart. Cal spent some time at the top of the hill, scanning the horizon, looking for the best way forward.

  A butterfly alighted on the cart.

  “Psst, you!” came a voice.

  I glanced around. The rest of the party was elsewhere. It was just me here.

  “Yeah, you,” came the voice.

  Was it the butterfly? I popped the monocle in. Above the butterfly, where a name would have been, was just a mess of broken pixels.

  “Yes, Mr. Butterfly?” I responded.

  “I ain’t got much time,” the voice said. “What did your Wizard friend say when you told him about the Western Lighthouse?”

  “Shit,” I muttered. I knew I’d forgotten to tell Mark something.