“I am sorry for his passing,” Padric said after a moment.

“He taught me my letters, when I was a girl,” she said softly, almost to herself.

“That is a rare skill and a wondrous gift,” Padric said, hoping to sound comforting. “He sounded an honorable man and a fine leader.”

“It was a gift. One he gave to all the children of this village who wanted to learn.” Jileen looked over at him and gave a resigned smile, “But it was not Brogan who taught us. It was Slouch Hat.”

“…town’s just resettled and what do we get? Visitors! No sense in it. None at all. A body can’t even get a drink in his own home after burying a friend without stepping on a stranger. Dwarrow and piskies! Soon it’ll be banshees and selkies! What’s to follow? Giants and trolls? Or worse? Hobgoblins?!”

Deglan spat.

Bulge-Eye slept.

The pair sat outside Faabar’s hut and would have been sharing the whisky skin back and forth, but the great toad was not much of a drinker. Inside, the fomori slept deeply, compliments of the elixir Deglan mixed up when he returned from the barrows. The wound had stayed closed, thankfully, but the fevers still came and went, much to Deglan’s frustration. But he was patient.

“We must stare down injury and illness and never blink,” he said aloud, quoting the old herbwife that taught him so long ago. He took a pull off the skin and looked over at Bulge-Eye. “You’d make a fine healer.”

The whisky burned a little going down, but settled warmly in his chest. The night was fresh and crisp, chill, but dry. Excellent weather for a good sit and a few pulls off a skin.

“Mind if I join you?” asked a playful voice.

Deglan looked up. It was the piskie from the village, perched in a tree near the eaves of Faabar’s turf roof.

“Yes,” Deglan answered sourly.

She flew down heedlessly, landing on the toad’s head. Bulge-Eye awoke with a grumpy croak and rolled his eyes upwards, trying to see what was bothering him. The piskie leaned down and rubbed him enthusiastically between the eyes.

“He’s adorable,” she cooed. “Been a long time since I’ve seen a riding toad.”

“Funny. He told me the same thing about piskies. Has a weakness for them. Likes the way the wings crunch.”

She paid the comment no mind and continued to stroke the toad’s lumpy head. A strange expression of calm contentment seemed to come over Bulge-Eye’s face. If it was possible, the beast seemed even more at ease than usual.