Martin and Namo relayed the information they had been charged with delivering, as well as their own history and justification behind why they were the ones delivering the news instead of residents of Benuun. The chief, the woman by the name Nino’opanaat, poked and prodded their story with ruthless efficiency. Although she was sympathetic to the travelers’ plight, seeing as how they had both lost friends to Fadina and her entourage, Martin couldn’t help but feel as though he were standing on trial, though he supposed adjudication was likely an official capacity she held as village chief. Nino’opanaat confirmed Martin’s suspicions that he was the first human who had visited the village in recent days. Through the retainer that she summoned, she had already initiated a response plan based on the signatory pendant the pair had provided her as proof. The chief divulged to the pair that she would alert the militia to keep an eye out for a traveling band of humans with a leader who matched Fadina Afzal’s description; furthermore, through her assignment of the task to her retainers, she had already begun assembling a delegation of Uat’snians to bring gifts and open talks with the grieving Benuunians. The chief declared all of this without taking her eyes off of the pair, as if she were appraising every Martin’s every blink and Namo’s every ear twitch. If this was Nino’opanaat’s sympathy, he would have hated to see her repudiation.

While the pair discussed the issue at hand with the chief, he turned over the problem of Fadina and her band’s whereabouts in his head. As far as he knew, there were only two roads out of Benuun: the road he and Namo entered from to the village’s north, and the glorified game trail they had exited from to the south. Assuming they were keeping about even pace, Namo and Martin should have been a day’s travel—maybe even less—behind Fadina and her group. Furthermore, considering that the pair never crossed paths with Fadina on their way into Benuun, it meant that they must have headed south at least part of the way, then changed course before arriving at Uat’sn. Recalling the map, Martin pondered their probable destinations. To the southeast of Benuun, between the clifftop village and Uat’sn, lay Sundered Lake, across which Namo’s village Jeju could be found, several kilometers from the lake’s eastern shore. However, unless Fadina’s party had some means of crossing the inland sea, it probably would have been faster to get to Jeju, if that was indeed their next destination, by circling around the north shore of the lake, which would have required doubling back along the trail and crossing paths with Martin and Namo. Meanwhile, to the west lay the Tychean Sea, and while it was true the map showed a small fishing village almost due west of Benuun near Defiance Gorge, he was only aware of one road to that village: one that led from Fordham, to the northeast. That would have required Fadina’s group doubling back as well. So where did they go?

While Martin turned Afzal’s whereabouts over in his head, Namo took the lead. “Soka’snuutan,” she began, using an honorific for the chief, “We wanna ask for a place to stay and work to help prepare for the next part of our journey, if that’s not too much. We got a long road ahead of us, but we’re ready to work hard in trade for supplies to head south.”

Nino’opanaat raised an eyebrow. “I have no doubt that you two are capable of an honest day’s work. But do tell: what lies south? There’s nothing but mountains and tundra for several days of travel.”

Martin took the opportunity to chime in. “I heard that to the southeast there is a land bridge connecting our continent to Echo—or whatever you call it in your language. The land to the east, across the sea.”

The chief nodded in understanding. “Yes, we call that land Tuu’snokopse, which in your tongue means ‘Land of the Towering Peaks’. It is a long journey without any road to follow for much of the trip, through a land only our hardiest foragers and rangers have explored. It is not a place for the likes of you naked ones.” The human tried not to take umbrage over the measure of casual disdain toward humans expressed in her voice. She shifted in her chair to a more upright pose, but didn’t lift her scrutinizing gaze off Martin. “Very well. Let it not be said that I lack compassion for the less fortunate. You are welcome in Uat’sn, and our people will provide for your needs in the Kepmuun custom, provided you work hard and prove yourselves useful.” She barked a command as she had done when Martin had given her the amulet, and one of her retainers—the young woman from before—appeared moments later. Nino’opanaat relayed a directive to the retainer, gesturing to Martin and Namo. When she finished, she turned once again to the two travelers. “Well then, is our business concluded?”

Martin and Namo looked at each other. Martin was unsure of what had been promised, but Namo seemed to think positively of the interaction that had just transpired. He gave the faun woman a tentative nod and then Namo bowed respectfully. “Yes, Soka’snuutan. Thank you for your kindness.” She followed with a farewell greeting in Kepmuu, which the chief returned in kind. The pair followed the young woman whom the chief had summoned outdoors through the longhouse’s heavy, creaking doors.

The travelers were briefed by the faun girl, who had introduced herself as Menope, as to where they would be staying: the cottage of an elderly faun widower by the name of Kuubo. The faun man was clearly advanced in age, but nevertheless relatively hale and hearty, with the most visible signs of his years being his gray hair and creased skin around his eyes and dimples from a habit of profuse smiling, which continued into his golden years. Kuubo joyfully accepted Namo and Martin into his home and allowed the pair to stow their belongings in the main room of his cozy abode, where a small bed only large enough to comfortably fit one of the two sat unoccupied, but clean at least, adjacent to the front door. A stone fireplace adorned the opposite wall from the doorway. Along the wall between the fireplace and the entry to the pantry, a cleared out area contained a small space for a bedroll; this would be where the other of the pair would sleep, Martin realized.

After getting acquainted with Kuubo, the pair were instructed by Menope, the retainer, that the chief had agreed to provide them with gear and supplies needed to continue on their travel to the southwest. In return, they would trade their labor for the goods. Entirely from memory, Menope itemized the extent of the transaction that Chief Nino’opanaat had offered: two purpose-made, hand-woven parkas; two pairs of gloves; two hats; and fifteen days of dried rations, which would be repaid with fifteen days of labor from the pair of them. The young retainer explained all of this while simultaneously taking fitting measurements with a length of string, which she also apparently did not need to write down. Martin wasn’t sure what to expect in exchange for the gear they would need to cross the tundra, but the notion of being fifteen days or more behind Afzal planted a seed of worry in his mind, as there was a real possibility the trail could go cold during their time in borderline indentured servitude. However, Martin saw no alternative that would get him to their destination faster, and safer, than performing some honest work for honest pay in the form of food and supplies.

After disclosing the nature of the deal, Menope then explained the work the pair would be doing. Namo, to her excitement, would be assigned to gather native botanicals with members of the village. Martin was assigned to a construction team that was currently tasked with performing repair work on an old stone building to serve as lodging for relocating families. Martin mused whether he was chosen for this task because he was a human and much of the architecture was of human make, but he tried to avoid reading too far into the fauns’ intentions with his assignment.

With the terms of the agreement explained so that even a human could understand them, Menope then asked whether the pair found the terms agreeable. Namo and Martin shared a glance. Namo noticed Martin’s hesitation. “Everything sound good?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he managed to say, unconvincing in his response though he was.

“Maa’ko, if there’s somethin’ ya don’t like we can always say so.”

“No, it’s fine, I promise. Let’s do it.” In truth, some small part of him just wanted to borrow what he needed—without asking, or any intent of returning the goods—and get on the road again. The recovering thief knew that Namo would doubtless not appreciate such behavior, however. Honest work for honest pay it was.

With the agreement settled, the pair were given the afternoon off to rest, recuperate from their time on the road, and bathe, while Menope made the arrangements with the fauns who would be supervising their work. She assured the pair that she would find them tomorrow around sunrise, and requested that in the meantime they assist Kuubo as he requested: the man was nearly blind and somewhat hard of hearing, but nevertheless enjoyed the company.

That evening, Martin sat by the fireplace, having built a fire from logs stacked outside the cottage. A cold front seemed to be making its way through the region on autumnal winds, and with the westerly wind came the harbinger of the impending fall. Namo sat next to him, having just bid goodnight to Kuubo. It was the first moment they had alone since arriving in Uat’sn, a fact for which Martin found himself grateful. After spending the past year traveling alone, having the companionship was welcome, but the extensive social interaction they had endured over the course of the day was somewhat exhausting. And, as such, Martin contented himself just listening to the crackling of the fire while the wind whistled through the open windows of the cottage.

Namo, as she often did, broke the silence. “So, when we were talkin’ with the chief, ya said ya wanted to travel to Tuu’snokopse. That’s where your friend is, right?”

Martin recalled the conversation they had had back in Fordham, where the man remarked he would swim across the Tychean Sea to find his mentor, if needed. “Yeah, that’s right. Though I should clarify, she’s not really a friend so much as a trusted mentor.”

“How do ya know she’s there now?” Namo asked, then quickly added: “N-not that I’m sayin’ I don’t believe ya. It’s just that, does she live there, or somethin’? It’s a long ways to go, even from here, I’m guessin’.”

The human gave a somber nod in acknoweldgment. “Yeah. I know. I don’t have much to go on—but in the last letter Davin and I received from my master, she mentioned that she was staying in a town in eastern Echo—the continent you called ‘To-snow-copsay’ or whatever. I don’t know if she’s still there, but I need to find her and that’s my only lead. And I’m sure that Fadina wants to find her too.”

“Where do you think she went?” Namo replied. “Fadina, I mean.”

Martin sighed. “I was thinking about that, earlier. I thought for sure she’d have come this way, mostly because, well, where else would she have gone?” The human shifted, leaning backward and resting his weight on his hands. “I’m worried she took a boat across the sea, which would be much faster than the route we’re going to be taking. She may find Ms. Arbour well before we do… but I don’t want to think about what would happen if she did.” Martin stood up from the fire and walked over to his rucksack. From it he produced a bloodstained envelope, and as he sat down next to Namo again, he held it out to her. “Do you know how to read English?”

His faun companion turned the envelope over. A bloody handprint covered one corner of the envelope, turned rust brown due to its age. The front of the envelope bore a red wax seal with a filigreed letter “A”. However, Namo shook her head. “No, I only ever learned to speak it. I can read Kepmuun well enough if I need to, but your language is hard for me. I’d like to learn, someday, though.” Nevertheless, from this envelope she pulled a letter, frayed at the corners and covered in smudged, bloody fingerprints. “Is this… is this blood?”

The man gestured with his fingers for Namo to hand him the letter, which she did. “Yeah. Davin’s. I got it on the letter without realizing it, after I found him.” Namo scooted closer to him along the wooden floor and gave him a hug from the side. Undeterred, Martin continued: “This is the last letter I received from my master, getting close to three years ago. She and Fadina knew each other well, apparently.” He began reading:

To my protégés, Davin and Martin:

I wish, first of all, to provide my sincerest apologies for my prolonged absence. I am perennially grateful for your stalwart maintenance of business affairs despite having an itinerant master, and wish to reiterate that upon my return, which I hope is very soon, I will see to it that your journeyman certifications are processed with minimal delay. However, I find that the assignment for which I was summoned to New Kenai has proved to be much thornier of an endeavor than I had originally anticipated; in fact, I find myself regretting that I had not packed more of my equipment and prior journals when I embarked on this journey. It is for this reason that I am writing you with some urgency: the success of my research depends on an important book of exploration notes that I have shelved at the surveying office. If you would, please find the journal that contains my notes from spring 278, my trip to central Pitys with the focus of exploration of the ruins of Terranova. Package them securely and have them shipped express to my address in New Kenai: 320 E Sterling Way, payable C.O.D. Please enclose correspondence detailing important updates from your work and matters that may require my attention. Do not, under any circumstances, disclose the subject or contents of this letter to her. I trust you both to handle this matter with the utmost discretion.

Please excuse my discourtesy for the brevity of this letter. I hope to respond to your next correspondence in more detail once I receive the journal, but in the meantime, time is of the essence.

Best Regards,

Helene Arbour

Namo looked a little bit bewildered by some of the details and language of the letter, so Martin explained further. “I think Ms. Arbour recognized something was going on with Fadina but didn’t know how to approach it, and didn’t want to concern us with it. But I doubt she would have suspected Fadina to go so far as to commit murder.”

“I hope we can find her before Fadina does.”

“Me too, Namo. I dread to imagine the alternative.” The man paused for a moment, making the mistake of dwelling on the vile woman who had dealt him this hand. “Man, fuck Fadina. Why did she have to ruin my life?” He balled his right hand, the one not holding the letter, into a tight fist. “I was gonna explore the world. Was gonna travel to Daphnis, make a fortune surveying the frontier, find an undiscovered pre-Collapse site or something. It’s basically wild lands up there, from what I’ve heard, and unexplored almost entirely. But instead I’m stuck building shit in some backwater faun town trying to chase this homicidal bitch down before she kills more people.” He threatened to crumple the letter in his outburst, but took a deep breath before he acted rashly.

Namo scooted closer to him, grabbing his fist, relaxing it. “It’ll be alright, Maa’ko.” She squeezed his hand a little tighter, as if to remind him she were there. “As much hurt as the past holds, if it hadn’t happened, I wouldn’t have met you.” He looked into her eyes, which shone in the firelight. “As hard as it is to say, a past lived in comfort wouldn’t’a led to a present where we’re here together.”

As Martin looked into her chocolate gemstone eyes, he couldn’t tell whether she was referring to his past or hers, but her doleful gaze revealed that she spoke from more than just a place of sympathy.

Almost in a trance, the human could simply reply “I know you’re right. I’ll try to focus on that.”