Father really is smart, I thought, as we ran through the dry, brown Commonlands. He'd been able to guess what Zophia had told me about the end of their friendship. He'd understood exactly how I'd feel on learning of his past behavior--he'd even known that I would want to reconcile the two of them, if such a thing were still possible after all this time.
Yes, he was very wise indeed, but I had to wonder what he would say to Zophia when we reached the Jade Tiger. Hello, nice to see you again, sorry about all that? That wouldn't be enough. I knew he wouldn't admit he'd been wrong, because he clearly didn't think he had been. And what would Zophia say?
I remembered an old saying of Mother's: "Time takes everything that Memory throws away." She'd always said it when I'd been upset for some reason. She meant that I should remember only good things, so the bad ones would eventually vanish. I hoped she was right. If she was, maybe Father and Zophia had enough good memories between them to ease their way through the coming reunion.
If they didn't, I wasn't sure what I'd do--who I'd choose. Because that was what it all came down to: Father's way or another way, my changing beliefs or the man who'd given me life. It was too painful to think about. I began to wish I'd gone to work in Mother's shop after all.
Father began to slow down. I looked around; we weren't anywhere near the West Gate of Freeport. I called out, "Is everything all right?"
He stopped, waiting for me to catch up to him. "Yes," he said, "But I have a quick errand to take care of before we get to Freeport. This way!" He turned toward the south and ran off again.
I was puzzled, but I followed him. Shortly, a camp appeared in the distance, a small camp, with just a few plain tents. I couldn't think what reason Father had for stopping there. Perhaps he was out of water.
Then there came a shout. "Llewellyn! Hellooooo!" Two--no, three figures came running from the tents. I squinted. The leading figure was tall, with long dark hair. A woman--a human, followed by a smaller man in bronze armor...and a drow in black robes.
"ELF!" Bankerra--for it was she--drew her sword and waved it in the air. Father reached the trio first, and I saw Bankerra sheath the sword again. Then she lifted Father in an embrace that seemed it might crush him. Wrixlan and Nazix stood nearby, waving to me.
"Hello, Gwion," Wrixlan said as I huffed to a stop near the camp. "I see you are safe and healthy."
I shook the hand he offered. "Wrixlan," I said. "I hadn't thought I'd see you again."
Nazix rolled his eyes. "We've barely survived the last few weeks," he said. "Ever since we defeated those ridiculous thugs, more have been arriving like flies to the feast!"
"Oh, shut up, Ink-face!" snarled Bankerra. "It isn't that bad. We've been getting rich from those raids on their camp!" She turned to glare at Nazix. "Things are finally going all right for a change, and you just can't stand it, can you!"
Father stepped between them. "Speaking of getting rich," he said, "I believe I have you three to thank for Gwion's rescue."
"They knew where I was?" I was stunned. "But I told only a few people where I was going!"
Bankerra swaggered up and looked down at me. "A few was enough! Hah! Thought you could keep it a secret, eh?" She threw back her head and let out a bray of laughter. "You should know better than to tell that Ninian Lilyliver anything!"
"Ninian?" I was confused. "How did you meet him?"
"They didn't," Father said. "At least, not because of me. When two weeks had passed with no word from you, your mother was sick with worry. She insisted I try to find you, so I ported to Antonica."
"But Antonica's a big continent," I said.
Father nodded. "I knew you were going to Freeport, of course," he said, "So I ported over. And then, by luck alone, I met your, ah, friends, Razgum and Mr. Lilyliver, down by the docks."
Nazix shrugged. "Apparently, Ninian tried to lure your father into a dwarven ale drinking contest at the Seafarer's Roost." He shuddered. "Ugh! How anyone could ingest that foul excuse for liquid, I'll never know."
"We talked for a bit," Father continued, "And Ninian mentioned that he meets most of the boats from Faydwer. I asked him if he'd seen you, and--"
"And he had," I said. "But how did these three help you find me?"
"Well, Ninian told me that you were on your way to Rivervale," Father said. "He seemed sincere, but I wasn't sure I should put any stock in his rather drunken opinion." He made a face. "And yet," he said, "It was the best information I had. So I tried to follow your path, but I wasn't at all sure I'd be successful. And then I met your friends here."
Wrixlan nodded. "We saw you running west one evening, just as we were setting up camp. We called out, but you looked distracted." He smiled off into the distance. "And a few days after that, a princess came to visit!"
"Huh!" Bankerra said. "Some princess! I've never met anyone more stuck up in my life." She pranced on her toes. "Oh, good evening, my loyal subjects," she squeaked, in imitation of Donnalinna's voice. "Have you seen my friend the elf? She's wearing dirty armor, and she's all confused!" She simpered. "The poor little thing!"
"Oh, now, it wasn't like that." Wrixlan poked Bankerra, then dodged as she tried to return the assault. "The princess seemed concerned about you, Gwion, so we told her we'd seen you passing."
"And then, later," Nazix said, "When your father came through asking about you, we realized something must be wrong. So we took a chance and told him what we knew--though we knew not who he really was, or why he wanted you."
"That was all the confirmation I needed." Father put a hand on Nazix's shoulder. "I headed for Rivervale--and then I found you in the forest. Which reminds me." He reached in his pocket and pulled out a handful of platinum pieces. "I did promise you all a reward."
"Thank you," said Wrixlan, deftly taking the coins and slapping Bankerra's hand away at the same time. "Llewellyn, you are very kind." He bowed to my father.
"I want a new sword," Bankerra grumbled.
Wrixlan ignored her. "We'll need provisions soon," he said. "But we were just about to make a meal of what we have left." He gestured toward a fire, where a cookpot was bubbling. "Perhaps you two would like to join us, and we can renew our friendship over some vegetable stew?"
I looked up at the sky. Father and I had been running for an hour; it was already early evening. "Perhaps we need to be going," I said.
"Oh, come on, Elf!" Bankerra elbowed me. "You have to be hungry." She looked at the ground. "And anyway, I guess I owe you a meal."
"That's right!" I'd forgotten about that first day in Freeport, when Bankerra had eaten my vegetable pie. "Since you put it that way--"
Bankerra threw an arm around my neck and squeezed until I thought I'd choke. "That's more like it!" she shouted.
Then she let me go, and pointed to the cookpot. "Hey! That stew isn't going to serve itself, you know!" She shoved me toward the fire. "Get moving, Elf."
I'd known Bankerra's apologetic mood wouldn't last long, but I was hungry. I dished up stew for all of us, and we stayed for a time as the shadows lengthened, sharing our stories of the preceding weeks. When the stew was gone, Wrixlan composed a song in our honor and sang it on the spot, strumming along on his lute. Then Nazix summoned an undead companion and ordered it to dance for us, which it did, until Bankerra pinned its bony feet to the ground with a pair of expertly-thrown daggers.
I looked over at Father. I had never imagined him being able to enjoy a simple celebration like this one, especially not in such a rough setting. But there he was, laughing and joking with my friends: a human, a wood elf, and a drow.
Mother Tunare, I prayed silently, help my father save these good memories. Let Time take the rest away. Help him, please, before he must speak to Uncle Zophia again.
