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Draft 1 – Updated 9 Aug 2025 (C008/D001)
The first thing LT became aware of as he surfaced from his dry, dreamless slumber was the scratchy hiss of a barn owl. The second was acrid smoke. What jolted him awake and forced him to action, though, was an unusually powerful urge to urinate.
Scrambling to his feet, he glanced around his stall, grabbed his scabbard, and dashed out to the tall grass to answer nature’s call. As he gathered his bearings under the stars, it occurred to him that the barn in which he had awakened seemed suspiciously vacant.
Strapping on his belt, he returned to a darkened building weakly lit by a glowing bed of embers adorned with a few licks of dancing yellow flame. He saw no children. No druid. No sign of the wood-chopping daughter. The white haired elf sat alone by the fire gazing at one of the dead coffle master’s sketches.
“You moved the children,” LT said, leaning against a stall divider, hand on his hip, near the handle of his katana.
“They in a safe place,” the elf responded, slowly folding the sketch before tucking it away.
“Already?” LT was skeptical. “We just got here.”
“Got here last night,” the elf replied. “Girls took the kits this morning.”
The deputy frowned, calculating the passage of time. “You drugged me,” he realized. Agitation boiled at the base of his brain forming tendrils that reached down through his arms toward his fists. “The druid” —his knuckles tingled and his fingers swelled— “at the church,” he recalled, nodding. Resentment tensed his jaw.
LT’s animal instincts coiled, yearning to lash out. But his combat training knew better and counselled calm. This was an elf — an elder elf. Potentially lethal. Better a friend than an enemy.
“Where’d you take them?” he asked, discretely taking stock of his weapons, noting the barn’s layout, and quickly forming a tactical plan.
“They ain’t going to the Shadows,” the elf replied.
The statement was factual. Frank and informative. Delivered with elf-like efficiency in the tone that marked all elves as dicks.
“Your decision … I presume.” LT suppressed his irritation and tactfully measured his tone.
“Their people.”
“Whose people?” The deputy’s eyebrows pinched together.
“Theirs,” the elf lifted his chin to imply a direction. “From town.”
LT’s earlier grogginess had now fully dissipated. It seemed a lot had happened while he was unconscious. The children, his ticket into the Shadows and his shot at the governor, were gone. All he had left was this. And he wasn’t yet sure what this even was. Before he could adjust his plan to complete his mission, he needed to figure this out.
LT took a slow breath through his nose to reset. “Your name,” he admitted as he moved around the fire to lean against a pillar across from his new … companion, “I don’t think I caught it.”
“Hunter,” the elf replied, without offering his hand.
It occurred to LT that the elf hadn’t asked him his name when they first met in the River Camp. Sneaky. He already knew it. How long had the elf had him under surveillance, he wondered? What else did this spy know about him?
“I thought that was a human thing — using your occupation as a name.” The deputy swallowed his misgivings, trying to manufacture a friendly connection. “Elves are supposed to have long names that get longer as you get older.”
“We do,” the spy replied, offering no more.
LT crossed his arms, aware of the need to manage his colors and establish his credibility with the stranger. “This,” he said, “is why folks round here ain’t inclined to be very friendly with y’all.” He allowed a truthful breath of frustration to sneak through his lips. “Your tone ain’t exactly sociable.”
The hunter leaned back and regarded him. “You looking for answers? Or a date?”
Something in that moment struck a chord with LT. He wasn’t sure what it was. Not memory, exactly. More of an impression. Like a voice, or a smell, reaching deep into dark water, touching something familiar just beyond the reach of light.
“Don’t get me wrong …. Hunter. I don’t mean no disrespect,” LT said, uncrossing his arms and reestablishing his self-control. “I’m just tryna figure out where we stand is all.”
Elves were rational. Too rational most of the time. But they were distant. Hard to get a handle on. Kept to themselves and were entirely transactional in their relationships with humans. Connecting with this one would be difficult. “Mind if I ask what it is you hunt?”
The elf paused to consider the question. It was an awkward pause — for humans. But for elves it was a necessary pause. And knowing this was one of many useful things LT had learned from the Brotherhood.
Most humans in the colony understood nothing about elves. In their view, elves were merely a savage version of themselves. But the Brotherhood, founded by humans and elves seeking to work together, knew differently. Elves, LT had learned from them, can see colors of intention which are invisible to humans.
This pause — which disrupted the normal tempo of conversation and therefore made humans feel uncomfortable — was simply the moment in which elves were taking stock of the human’s emotional state.
So when Hunter paused in response to LT’s question about what exactly he hunted, there was nothing awkward about it. The human posed the question. The elf observed the color of the human’s intent. Then he pulled a piece of paper from a rear pocket and reached out to offer it in answer.
LT tipped his head quizzically to the side then stepped forward to accept it. Carefully unfolding the paper sheet, his heart skipped a beat. It was a wanted poster from Eastbranch — adorned with a sketch, his true name, and some recent aliases. Beneath were formal charges, carefully itemized, including one violation of the Fugitive Slave Ordinance.
“You’re a bounty hunter,” LT said aloud, processing Hunter’s point while scanning the page. “I’ve seen this one,” he said, turning the poster to face the elf. “Doesn’t look anything like me.”
“Never does.” Hunter shrugged.
“I have to admit. It was a little hurtful seeing this the first time. Only twenty for turning me in alive. Ten for dead. I was expecting more.” LT grinned at his own joke. “So which one are you after, bounty hunter? Are you turning me in for the ten or the twenty?”
“Slave Act violators?” Hunter replied. “Those are tens.”
LT tensed, holding his grin steady. His eyes locked warily on the elf. “And here I thought we were starting to get along,” he retorted, alert for any sudden movement.
The elf remained calm, hands still, fingers relaxed. His threat filled the barn but nothing in his demeanour suggested hostility. LT replayed the elf’s words in his head trying to reconcile the contradictions. “Those are tens.” It was an apparent threat from a species that rarely utters threats.
“No point in fighting,” Hunter said, responding to the human’s unspoken intentions. “Won’t change nothing.”
LT relaxed, crossed his arms, and threw his head back. “There it is again,” he said, purposefully changing his colors. “Why you gotta be disrespectful like that?”
Hunter seemed puzzled. “We both know it wouldn’t be a fair fight.”
“We do,” LT agreed. “But why you gotta say it?”
“Ain’t no secret.”
“Look, Hunter. We ain’t idiots. We know. We ain’t tree walkers. We’re not like you. We gotta eat. We gotta sleep. We lose half the day to that shit. Every damn day.”
Hunter rolled his eyes. “And you spend the other half talking.
“Point is, you folks don’t eat, you don’t sleep, and you train a damn sight more than ever we can. Then on top of that there’s the whole age thing. I mean look at all that snow on your roof. Why I’ll bet you’ve been combat training since my great grandpappy was a tadpole.”
Hunter affirmed LT’s bet with a curt elven nod.
“See? There you go. We both already know that. So we both know it ain’t a fair fight. And you saying so ain’t doing nothing but calling me out.”
“It’s a fact.” Hunter shrugged.
“It’s embarrassing is what it is.”
“It’s a fact.”
“Stating facts that make people feel less ain’t no way to make friends, son.”
Hunter raised an eyebrow. “You know a lot about elves.”
“I tr” —LT stopped himself— “I hear things.”
Hunter’s eyes glinted, but his face remained stoic. LT recognized the look. It was an elven smile.
“Six,” the bounty hunter stated.
“Six what?”
“Never challenge an elf alone,” he replied. “That’s your sixth commandment. Or is it the fifth?”
“You know a lot about the Brotherhood,” LT replied. Finally. A connection.
The elf took his measure. LT could feel the penetration, scanning him from top to bottom.
“The fresco in the mess hall. On the wall leading to the junior barracks.”
“That’s you?” LT’s brows twitched inward. He searched the bounty hunter’s face for clues, wishing he had paid more attention to the artwork he had walked past daily for so many years.
“And that’s you,” Hunter pointed at the wanted poster in his hand. “And” —he said, pulling a second piece of paper out of his shirt pocket and handing it to his bounty— “so’s this.”
The deputy unfolded the damp and sticky document gingerly. “Is this blood?” he asked, holding his wet fingers out toward the firelight to examine them.
“Took it off the coffleman’s body.”
LT examined the bloodstained poster — identical to the first one. His stomach twisted. “Sum bitch was going to turn me in.”
“Soon as you got to the Shadows, I suspect.”
Now what? LT wondered. The two men sat in silence, pondering their new situations, watching the fire dwindle to embers.
“What was the plan?” Hunter asked, breaking the silence. “Infiltrate the Shadows? Assassinate the governor?”
LT took a breath, uncertain about how much he should reveal to the stranger. “Well … You know what they say,” he replied, falling back on protocol.
Hunter sagged, flashing him a dubious glance. “Really?”
“Really.”
“You think I’m playing you?”
“I don’t know you.”
“You think this little test is gonna make a difference?”
“I … don’t … know you.” Hunter’s hesitation raised LT’s hackles. “Elves have reputations,” he said, justifying his decision. “Always sneaking around. Spying on people. Following your own agendas.” The elder elf was clearly annoyed. “Look. Half a cup of tea ago you as much as told me you were a founding member of the Brotherhood. If that’s true, why would you mind this?”
“I was there in the beginning,” Hunter replied. “This … secret society stuff … it came later.”
“So?”
Hunter shrugged. “So … it’s … weird.”
“Oh, come on. Easy peasy. I’ll start.” He cleared his throat. “If one of us is in chains …” LT said holding his hand out, palm up, inviting Hunter to complete the pass phrase.
Hunter stayed silent.
“You want to know what I planned to do at the Shadows, don’t you?” LT asked, reminding him. “Just finish the pass phrase. If one of us is in chains …”
Hunter took a slow breath through his nose and looked the young deputy in the eye. “… none of us are free,” he replied.
“There,” LT said with a triumphant flourish. “Was that so hard?”
“The Shadows.” Hunter’s deadly serious tone put their business back on the table. “What was the plan?”
“Mind if I sit?”
Hunter gestured to stump across the fire.
“This is my third season paying off debts working for the Shadows,” LT began. “The first two years, we did the loop. Eastbranch to the Shadows. South to Snowfall, then back.”
Hunter nodded, listening attentively.
“My goal was to gain their trust and eventually get hired permanent. So I could get inside. This year was complicated … because of the warrant … but I thought I had them fooled. I was pretty sure I was getting inside.”
“What’s in the Shadows that’s worth risking your life for?” Hunter asked. “A woman?”
LT shook his head. “A goliath.”
“An old rumor.” Hunter responded with a single slow nod. “Ain’t never been nothing to it.”
“I know,” said LT. “Brotherhood said the same thing. But last year, when I was working on the coffle train, one of the permanent mercs told me they had one … for Incorporation Day. Injured though. Couldn’t fight yet. But they were trying to heal him.”
“So you risked your neck to … what … ” Hunter probed, “to rescue a goliath?”
“No,” LT replied firmly. “To get evidence that they were keeping non-humans in bondage.”
Hunter squinted. “Because?”
“Because if they have non-human slaves, they’re violating the ceasefire.”
The elf considered the human’s story for a few minutes. LT got the impression that he was holding something back, but he didn’t want to press.
“Tell me about the warrant,” Hunter said, changing the subject.
LT chuckled. “That was bad luck. Me and a few of the Brothers cut a guy down from a wheel outside of Eastbranch last year. Lost one in the process.” The chuckle gave way to seriousness. “They must’ve got something out of him before he bled out, though, because a few weeks later the rest of us were on wanted posters.”
“That didn’t concern you?”
“Being on a poster?”
“Didn’t make you think twice about signing up for the new season?”
“Naw,” LT waved off any concerns. “ Poster didn’t look nothing like me. I just grew a beard, cut this scar into my eyebrow, and got myself a new tattoo.” He pulled up a sleeve to show Les Chateaux’s flag.
“You think that’s enough?” The elf seemed doubtful.
“I do.”
“Hmmmm,” Hunter replied, considering the new disclosures. “You hungry?” he signaled an end to their discussion.
“Hang on a second.” LT was relieved that the inquisition was finally over, but he had questions of his own. “Why are you helping the Shadows?”
“We ain’t.”
“You just said you were a bounty hunter. You showed me my own damn wanted poster.”
“I am. But I ain’t helping the Shadows.”
“Then why were you tracking me?”
“A few years ago the Shadows started listing crimes on their wanted posters.”
“Yeah. So?”
“So we keep an eye out for Slave Act violators. We find them, fake their deaths, then we help them escape to the free lands.”
LT smiled. His eyes glinted. “So you were looking for me?”
“Yep.”
LT laughed. “Meaning you knew every-damn-thing I just told you.”
“By the time we found you,” Hunter replied, without admitting anything, “you were wearing a uniform. After that, I hadda figure out why.”
“So you believe me now.”
Hunter cocked his head. “Everything you’ve said so far checks out.”
“You people,” LT grinned weakly, shaking his head slowly. “And you wonder why humans got trust issues.”
“You must be hungry.” Hunter ignored the comment. “Been a long time since you et.”
“Starving,” LT admitted.
“Well, eat something. We need to get out of here before first light.”
“Where are we going?”
“We need to deal with your bounty issue.”
“Why?”
“Options,” Hunter stated with characteristic elven bluntness. “The coffle master hadn’t told nobody nothing yet. Might could be useful to have a deputy on our side.”
“Our side?” LT was confused. “Whose side?”
“The town’s side.”
“You’re keeping the kids?” LT’s eyebrows climbed toward his hairline. “That’s risky.”
“Ain’t likely to work neither,” Hunter admitted.
“Meaning you got a back up plan.”
Hunter nodded. “Meaning I gotta get some help.”
“Well.” LT sighed. “My plans have certainly changed. I ain’t getting into the Shadows now. Might as well count me in.”
“You being a Brother and all, I figured as much.”
“So what do you want from me?
“First thing I need to do,” Hunter looked at him with a hint of pity, “is smack you with a shovel.”
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