Chip had thought he’d already been through the hardest things he would ever need to do, at least until such time as he would need to say goodbye to his parents.
He was wrong.
He stood in the yard of Jorrvaskr, staring numbly at Aela and seeing nothing in her gaze that could guide him. That, in and of itself, was difficult; he’d come to think of Aela as an older and wiser sister. But she had nothing to offer him. He was the Harbinger. He was supposed to be the one providing the guidance.
Their trip to Solstheim had been followed by two other hunts. The second Totem of Hircine was in the vampire-ridden cave known as Haemar’s Shame. It didn’t seem to matter how often the cave was cleared out, Aela had told him; vampires re-established themselves there in short order every time. As they approached the cave, he’d turned to her.
“Look… I’m thinking of taking this place on in my other form. They aren’t going to give me their disease in any case, and it’ll make things a lot quicker if I can use my claws. I hope you won’t mind? You can join me if you wish.”
Aela had smiled at him. “Do what you feel is right, Harbinger. I will stay as I am, because these tunnels are narrow and there won’t be room for two of us to hunt in beast form. You’ll see what I mean.”
And he had. After taking out the first thrall they met with two quick arrows, Chip stowed his weapons and purposefully changed form. He’d consumed the thrall, feeling stronger and fiercer as a result. Then he’d walked face-first into a swinging wall of spikes when his huge paws failed to clear a pressure plate on the floor. The wolf had whined, and licked the blood off its fur as best it could while waiting to heal; and his Chip-self shook his head and sighed internally.
So Aela wasn’t kidding about the tunnels being narrow for a werewolf. Ow.
The vampires in flimsy robes were easy to take down in spite of their magic. All he had to do was run into them at top speed, his mass flinging them backwards and sometimes even up into the air. Even the strongest of them couldn’t keep their footing in the face of the collisions; and between his powerful claws and Aela’s arrows, they all went down easily. The human thralls were a bit tougher, because they wore actual armor and carried large weapons. One by one, though, they were flung to their deaths or mauled by Chip’s powerful claws and teeth; and he consumed them all to keep his strength up. One thrall, raised up again by a vampire, had whispered a haunting “thank you” as Chip destroyed him for a second, and final, time.
Only the master vampire in the last chamber was a problem. He had both more powerful magic and also an enchanted weapon that left the wolf bleeding and gasping in agony. In his frantic panic to escape the pain he turned and roared directly into the room; and his roar had all the remaining vampires fleeing in terror. The master vampire, though he’d blinked out of visibility for a moment, had a glowing ball of magic in one hand; that was enough for the werewolf to find and destroy him.
The chest here held, among other things, an elaborately-decorated hand drum. Chip extended it toward Aela.
“That’s it! That’s the second totem. Quickly, let’s get back to Whiterun and put it with the other one.”
He’d watched, smiling, as Aela knelt before the second altar in the Underforge, now holding the Totem of Brotherhood. Chip was proud that they’d managed to retrieve it.
Not too long afterward, Aela had whispered to him that she’d discovered where the final totem was, and had invited him to hunt alongside her. They’d had a good run to Mara’s Eye Pond. Chip admired Aela’s strength, and her skills as an archer were well-matched with his own. They’d contested to see who could shoot down more of the swarm of mudcrabs guarding the island in the center of the pond; Chip lost track, but it didn’t matter, as they were laughing and enjoying each other’s company. He couldn’t help but see her beauty, as well, remembering the day when she’d first asked whether he was strong enough to hunt with her. But Aela was too old for him – he knew that without doubt – and her heart remained with Skjor just as his lingered with the Frostmoon clan, on the icy slopes of Solstheim.
Someday I’ll find someone. I suppose that I’m in no rush.
There was a small rowboat pulled up onto the mud of that tiny island in the pond. Someone had set a wooden peg into one of the trees there, and hung a lantern from it. Just beyond it was a trap door set into the ground. Chip sniffed, and frowned.
“More vampires?” he asked, shooting a confused glance Aela’s way. “I mean, maybe it’s just the dampness I smell, but I remember running across one of these out in Falkreath. It was so clearly a vampire’s den. The vampire knew I was there, too. I could sense him.”
Aela tested the air and nodded. “I think you’re right. It is a bit strange that both of the totems on the mainland have been in vampire dens, but there has never been any love lost between our peoples. Perhaps there was some sort of raid long ago. Who knows? Let’s just go retrieve the totem.”
Chip nodded. “OK. Be prepared, though. If that last place was any indication we may need to be.”
They climbed carefully down the ladder. Behind him, Chip heard Aela snort. This den was a tiny space, and wide open past the short entryway aside from wooden platforms extending over the water that pooled at its floor. Chip sighed quietly.
Figures. After all my buildup, there’s no room here for more than a couple of people.
He eased forward into the cave and moved to his right along the platform. Just across the way stood a vampire; alone, quiet, and in the open. It made lining up his shot easy, and the surprise attack felled the creature with one arrow.
A second vampire rose from her seat at a table and cast a resurrection spell on her dead companion; but as Aela rushed around the far edge of the cavern Chip kept his sights on the raised vampire and shot her again, turning her to a pile of ash. The second vampire ran toward Aela, but didn’t get close enough for her life-draining spell to do much damage. Both Aela and Chip fired at her, and she disintegrated.
They found an ornately-carved skull in a partially-submerged chest at the bottom of the cave. By some good fortune the chest had stayed watertight enough that there was no damage to its contents. As Chip examined the totem he couldn’t help see the resemblance between it and his bow, between it and the altars he’d found in the Glenmoril witch’s cave, in the wilderness in the western Whiterun hold, and just beneath the edge of the glacier on Solstheim. He could feel Hircine’s energy.
“Do you have it?” Aela asked again, somewhat anxiously to Chip’s ear.
“Yes. I’m sure this must be it.” He handed her the skull.
“At last!” she exclaimed, turning it over in her hands. “The final totem is ours! Let’s get back to the Underforge to complete our set.”
That’s what they’d done. Aela insisted that the totems would bring them closer to Lord Hircine, and knelt before the final one, earnestly praying. Chip didn’t have the heart to tell her that he felt no difference when he knelt before them.
I already have Hircine’s blessings – his rings, his bow, his amulet. His approval. I went to his realm and defeated his beasts. Perhaps there is nothing left for me to gain.
Later, Chip had found it hard not to laugh when Vilkas offered him another job. It was a bit of a sensitive matter, he started to say, and Chip started to grin.
“Let me guess. Someone’s mislaid a particular steel war axe… again?”
Vilkas hadn’t been in the vicinity when Skjor had given him the first war axe assignment, back in the days before he’d been named Harbinger – back before all of the chaos, bloodshed and heartbreak had happened. But even as it hurt his heart to think of the people they’d lost he couldn’t help believing that Skjor was laughing from the Hunting Grounds.
Vilkas frowned. “Nnooo,” he said slowly. “It’s a steel dagger that’s been mislaid. Nothing particularly special, but it’s a family heirloom and they’re paying well for us to get it back.”
Chip looked down at his own daggers. One had been his mother’s. The other had belonged to Skjor. Each of them meant something very special to him, even moreso now that he’d taken Kodlak’s place in Jorrvaskr. He nodded.
“I understand. It’s not the item itself that gives it the value. Just tell me where to go.”
It was no wonder that the people in question had dropped the dagger; it was in a cave crawling with Falmer. But the werewolf didn’t care about the Falmer: it shredded them all, each as it came for him, as though they were skeevers, or field mice. And at the end, Chip had taken control again to retrieve the unremarkable dagger from the chest where it was stored, and had made the trip back to Whiterun.
The Companions were all in the yard when he arrived to return the dagger. Vilkas sat on the ground near the back wall, watching Ria practice sword strikes on one of the training dummies.
“Hey there, Vilkas,” he said, smiling. “I retrieved the family’s steel dagger, as requested.”
Vilkas took the dagger and turned it over in his hands, nodding. “And it looks undamaged. Very good. They’ll be pleased, I’m sure. And we’re pleased with their money.”
Chip nodded, and took his payment when Vilkas offered it; but he fought not to grimace. This again. Surely Vilkas realizes that the money is not the most important thing. Kodlak was in it for the honor, not the gold.
He turned to leave and saw Aela, standing in the middle of the yard, and Farkas seated just behind her. Farkas caught Chip’s eye and beckoned him to come near.
“Hi Farkas!” he said, happy to speak to this man again.
“Hello, whelp,” Farkas grinned back.
“Got any jobs needing doing?”
“Of course,” Farkas said. “There is always work.” He paused for a moment, looking thoughtful. That pause made the hackles on Chip’s neck rise in alarm.
“But…?”
Farkas sighed, staring ahead of himself blankly. “My mind is someplace else.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I think that maybe Kodlak was right. As a werewolf, I can’t be a good Nord.”
Chip felt as though someone had driven that inconsequential steel dagger through his heart. Farkas as a normal man? Not the great, sleek, incredibly powerful wolf he’d met first of all of them? Chip took a moment to catch his breath and gather his thoughts, and then spoke.
“You’re one of the best Nords I’ve ever met, Farkas. Most loyal, strongest… How could you say that about yourself?”
“I want to be clean, like Kodlak was, and go to Sovngarde when I finally die.” Farkas finally looked up again to meet Chip’s confused gaze. He looked sure of himself, and determined. Farkas was a man of few words; but as Chip had noted before, those few words were usually simple, direct, and elegant.
When Chip cast a distressed glance at Aela, she shook her head. She had nothing to offer him. He was the Harbinger. He was supposed to be the one providing the guidance now.
“I see you still have the witches’ heads in your pack,” Farkas continued. “This is good.”
Chip grimaced. He’d been intending to stow the rest of the heads in a safe at his cottage, but the Companions had kept him on the go for weeks. The heads were dry and shriveled now, but to a werewolf’s keen nose they were still easy to pinpoint.
I can’t talk my way out of this. Farkas knows how we cured Kodlak. The best I can do is agree now, and then try to change his mind.
“I … will help you, Farkas. It seems like the least I can do.”
“I would be honored for you to accompany me, Harbinger,” Farkas said formally. “Let’s go to the tomb. We can do the cleansing there.”
Chip nodded. “We’ll take the carriage to Winterhold. No arguments. I don’t feel like running all that way right now.”
Farkas nodded, and silently followed Chip out through Whiterun. The beautiful, brilliantly blue sky seemed almost to taunt Chip as they walked.
I’m going to have him in the carriage. I need to talk him out of this.
They were well underway when Chip cleared his throat.
“I wish you’d reconsider this, Farkas,” he said. “You’re like my big brother. You and Vilkas and Aela – you’re the only people left in this world who I’ve ever known who share this with me. I mean there’s the pack on Solstheim, but I don’t really know them. You know?”
Farkas chuckled. “I know. And I’m still your big brother, whelp. I mean Harbinger.”
“Chip.”
“Whatever. You’ll always be whelp to me. Don’t take it personal.” He rubbed his hands up and down his legs and blew on them to warm them. “This isn’t about you, Chip. It’s about me. I may not be as smart as my brother, but that’s why I always listened to Kodlak.”
He peered directly into Chip’s eyes, his face showing how earnestly he meant this. “It’s taken me some time to think it all over, and I need to be a true Nord. Not a werewolf.”
Chip was sure his pained expression must have said everything he was thinking. I don’t want to be alone, he thought. I need my big-brother wolf. But he couldn’t help understanding Farkas’ point. It was bad to feel uncomfortable about oneself, to not know in which world one stood. He looked down at his feet.
I’m not a thief. I’m not a soldier like my uncles. Whatever Ma does, I’m not that, either. The only thing I’ve ever been is this. Hircine’s hunter and a werewolf. And one by one my companions – The Companions – are dropping away from me. It’s not fair.
But it’s not my life we’re talking about.
He sighed, and raised his head, and half-grinned at Farkas. “You’re lucky. I’ll never be a true Nord. I’m half Redguard.”
Farkas laughed.
“Just because I want to be cleansed doesn’t mean you need to. If you decide to stay the way you are, I get that too. Do what’s right for you, Chip. I know you’re closer to Hircine than some of us. Keep that for yourself. It’s important.”
And thus they arrived in Winterhold, the dismal fog that blew in off the Sea of Ghosts echoing the leaden gloom of Chip’s mood. On the one hand, he desperately wanted not to slay the huge black werewolf he’d met only briefly. On the other hand…
How could I possibly say no to a man who understands how important Hircine is to me? If it’s my job to guide them now, the least I can do is help them be content.
The two of them walked silently through the quiet, empty portions of Ysgramor’s resting place that they’d fought through together before. When they reached the chamber that had been home to the enormous spiders, Chip drew his blades.
“I’m pretty sure they’re all gone, Farkas, but I’ll go first just to be sure. There are a couple of rooms full of webs but after that we’ll be good.”
Farkas grunted and drew his weapon. But he didn’t need it; Chip and Aela had killed all the spiders and destroyed the eggs on their first trip through. They trotted through the barrow and up to the doorway leading to the two main chambers. Chip turned to look at Farkas.
“Are you sure you want to do this? It’s not too late to back out.”
Farkas shook his head. “Lead on, Harbinger.”
Chip sighed, but led Farkas down through the room with the enormous mammoth skull and then up the stairs toward the brazier with the blue flame. Farkas stared at it, his eyes round in awe.
“Alright, Farkas. I’ll put one of these heads into the fire. Your spirit wolf is going to find itself outside your body. It’s our job to slay it. Then you’ll be free.”
Farkas looked a bit apprehensive, but he nodded toward the brazier. Chip took a deep breath and tossed one of the ugly heads into the flames.
Chip hated having to attack what he knew was a part of his brother’s spirit; but he slashed at the specter once and then backed away. When the wolf didn’t attack he set on it again. Finally it responded, turning to snap at him.
“Farkas! You need to kill it!!” he cried out, fighting to keep his voice from trembling.
And Farkas did. He finished the spirit with a roar and one massive blow of his greatsword. He stowed his sword and then stopped, looking at his hands, turning them over and over.
“Are you ok?” Chip asked hesitantly. Kodlak had already been a ghost when they freed him; he didn’t know what to expect from cleansing a living man.
“Is it over?” Farkas asked. When Chip nodded, he smiled. “It’s like relaxing into a warm mug of spiced mead. I’m losing aches I didn’t even know I had.” He stretched his shoulders and smiled more broadly. “This is how a warrior should feel. Alive and aware, not clouded with thoughts of the hunt!” Then he flinched. “I’m sorry, Chip. I didn’t mean anything by that. You’re as much a warrior as any man I know.”
“Don’t worry about it, Farkas,” Chip said, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m just glad you’re ok.” I don’t think I could have lived with myself if anything went wrong. “Now what?”
“Thank you for your help. I’m going to stay in the tomb for awhile. My shame kept me out before, but now I want to see it.”
“Ok, Farkas. If it makes any difference, I don’t much like spiders either.”
Farkas laughed and walked away, heading up to the balcony that ringed the room. Chip stood and stared at the blue flame for a moment. He could cure himself, right then and there. But no matter how hard he thought about it, he couldn’t bring himself to reach into the pack for another of the heads. He gave a final glance at Farkas and smiled. Then he made his way back out of the Tomb, and headed for Whiterun.
He trudged back up the stairs to Jorrvaskr, wondering tiredly when he might be able to take a few days, return to his cabin, and rest a bit. Vilkas had sent him out to Dragon Bridge to “take care of” an escaped convict, and the man had been as slippery as a greased pig to find. Every time Chip was close enough to be sure he was looking at the right man, that man would slip into a knot of citizens or guards, making the potential for disaster out of any bowshot even Hircine’s own hunter could make. Finally, as the sun set, Chip headed back across the Dragon Bridge, thinking that he’d best be well out into the wilderness just in case the moons’ pull was too great. He had peered ahead into the twilight and spotted the man well down the road, headed toward the bridge. Chip drew his bow, waited for the guard between them to turn toward Frost River, and shot the convict through the heart.
His rest on the tundra hadn’t been especially restful; but he was used to that. Still, by the time he made his way down to Jorrvaskr’s living quarters he was looking forward to the large, soft bed that had once been Kodlak’s.
I don’t think Hircine’s hunting horn going off next to my ears could keep me awake.
He was almost there, almost to the Harbinger’s chambers, when he heard a man clearing his throat. He groaned silently, and sniffed the air. It was definitely Vilkas, reading a book in his room.
Well, I do have to report the job done.
He walked into Vilkas’ room and stopped, watching Vilkas ignore him for a few moments. It was hard not to grin. No matter how long they knew each other, he could tell this would always be Vilkas’ way of showing that he was the elder of them.
“So, uh, the criminal out in Dragon Bridge was determined to evade me. I got him in the end. He won’t be a problem anymore.”
Vilkas nodded, still not looking up. “Bit by bit, we bring honor to this land. And you’ve brought honor to the Companions.”
Chip smiled, happy to hear Vilkas say so.
“More importantly,” Vilkas continued, “some gold.”
He couldn’t contain himself. “Really, Vilkas? Is that all you think about?”
Vilkas raised his head, slowly, to stare directly at Chip.
Crap. I’ve gone too far this time, haven’t I?
“No, it’s not,” Vilkas said quietly. “There is always work for the Companions. But this time there is a more personal matter before me.”
Chip frowned. “A more personal… What’s bothering you?”
“Kodlak’s final teaching. I think he was right about beast blood, and Sovngarde. I know that you’ve cleansed Farkas, and he’s happier and more at peace than I can ever remember. I wish to cleanse myself, that I also might know glory in the afterlife.”
Chip pulled out the chair opposite Vilkas and sat down hard.
“Not you, Vilkas! Not you, too.”
“You would deny my wish?”
Chip shook his head, flailing about for something to say. “I’ve never even seen you in your wolf form! You must be the most magnificent creature ever to…” He looked up to see Vilkas staring at him, looking shocked.
“Gods, I don’t even know, Vilkas. I know it’s all just very selfish of me but you have to hear me out. I don’t even have words for how much I’ve come to admire your intelligence. Your strength.”
Vilkas gave him a sad smile. “You and I didn’t see eye-to-eye at all, Harbinger. Not for a long while. I think that perhaps I was a bit jealous of the attention Kodlak paid you. I’ve come to understand why that was. I was far too fond of the hunt. I’m still far too fond of the gold. You’ve seen that yourself. We need the gold to keep Jorrvaskr up, but…” He sighed deeply. “I fear that the beast blood is bad for me.”
Chip shook his head. “What about Farkas? He didn’t get carried away by the gold.” He just wanted to be like Kodlak.
“Farkas is a much simpler man than I am, and he’s pure of heart even if he likes to hand out a good beating now and then,” Vilkas said. “I’m not like Farkas. That’s why Kodlak didn’t choose me. I was trying hard to overcome it but the temptation was too much. You saw me, that one night under the moons. I nearly attacked you, Harbinger.”
“Yes, I did,” Chip said, his voice cracking. “I was in awe, Vilkas. Absolute awe. Full moons. I couldn’t believe you didn’t just… turn. But I was the selfish one, not you. All I wanted was to run and hunt with you. Someone who was like me. Farkas feels like a brother to me but you…”
Vilkas grinned. “I feel like an old man? A teacher? A father, maybe?”
Chip shook his head. “No, not a father. I have one of those. I don’t know, Vilkas. A friend, maybe.” He took a deep breath. “And to think how much I hated you at first. You’re the reason I joined the Companions in the first place, because you made me so angry.”
He paused, unsure of what he wanted to say next and certain that whatever it was, it was based on his own needs and wants, not Vilkas’. He shook his head.
“If this is really what you want, I can’t stand in your way. I can’t choose for you. But…”
“But what?”
He paused for a moment, considering his words. “But I need to know that you won’t think less of me because I want to stay the way I am now. I need to know why I became a wolf well before I met all of you.”
Vilkas smiled. “I won’t think less of you, Harbinger. You won’t be alone. Aela will keep the beast blood as well, I have no doubt of it. Skjor would, too, if he were still among us. Somehow I can’t help but think that there’s a good reason for what you’ve been through, even if we don’t know what it is yet.”
“Alright then,” Chip said, groaning as he rose from the chair. “I can’t lie and say that this makes me happy. I hate this, Vilkas. I just hate it. But it’s not my life, and not my soul. I was going to rest, but let’s go get this done. We’re taking the carriage, though. I may doze on you while we ride.”
“Then lead on!” Vilkas cried. “Back to the Tomb of Ysgramor. My soul is now prepared.”
Chip’s heart hurt all the way to Winterhold. It was dark when they arrived, and he kept hoping that somehow the moons would exert their influence, turn both of them to the magnificent wolves they were beneath the skin, and allow Vilkas to run free and hunt with him. But there was no such pull on either of them, only the quiet lapping of the sea against the shore on a still night; and Chip had no choice but to reprimand himself yet again for being selfish.
It’s not my life. It’s Vilkas’ life and his well-being at stake; and if he will feel whole and contented without his wolf spirit who am I to say no?
Vilkas hadn’t ventured past the first two chambers when they freed Kodlak’s spirit, so Chip chattered away like a guide as they moved through the tomb. It wasn’t that he thought Vilkas was nervous, or that there would be anything hiding in the shadows that Vilkas couldn’t handle. It was just soothing to him, distracting him from considering how alone he was going to be. Vilkas said nothing, but nodded and smiled at him now and then. Chip heard him gasp when they neared the mammoth’s skull. It was rather spectacular, after all. And then they entered the final chamber.
“So this is it?” Vilkas asked, approaching the blue flame.
Chip sighed. “Yes. That’s Ysgramor’s coffin, up in the gated niche there,” he said, pointing to the end of the chamber. “I’ll need to toss one of these heads into this brazier. That will pull your wolf spirit from you. We need to kill it to free you from it forever.”
Vilkas nodded solemnly.
“I’m serious, Vilkas. I’m not doing this alone.”
“I’m ready, Harbinger.”
As had happened with Farkas, the wolf spirit didn’t catch Vilkas’ attention immediately. Chip blinked back stinging tears as he attacked it once, and then again. Finally Vilkas turned, as if awakening, and struck at the wolf spirit with his greatsword. It went down; but in a twist of fate that Chip could never have envisioned, it had only been a few moments since his mother’s blade had bitten into the wolf. Its remaining spirit rushed into one of Chip’s empty soul gems with a resounding crackle.
By the gods. I have captured part of Vilkas? No! I didn’t want that…
Vilkas, though, was slowly breaking into a smile. His face, which Chip suddenly realized had always been set in tense lines, looked relaxed and comfortable.
“Is it over?” he asked. Chip didn’t trust his voice, so he just nodded.
“It’s…eh… like waking up out of a dream,” Vilkas said. “I can breathe more deeply now!” He peered at Chip and his nose wrinkled, then he shook his head. “I can’t smell your heart beating like I used to, but my mind… is clear. This is a great service you’ve done for me, Harbinger. I will not soon forget it. I’d like to spend some time communing with Ysgramor. My soul is clean now. Perhaps he’ll still welcome me when my time comes.”
Chip took a deep breath and cleared his throat. He needed to speak, and he didn’t want to diminish Vilkas’ moment with his own sadness.
“I have no doubt of it, Vilkas. As will Kodlak, and all the other Harbingers whose spirits are watching us right now. Kodlak told me about them being here. We can only see the ones we know. But I’m sure they all recognize you.”
Vilkas smiled. “I need to say something to you before you leave. Something I have no right to say. I need you not to be angry with me.”
Chip gave him a puzzled frown. “Alright. Whatever it is, go ahead and say it.”
“It’s just this. You are not simply a whelp, Brynjolf Brynjolfsson. You are a fine man. A leader. You’ve grown so far since you first came to us, and I am proud to call you the Harbinger. Our leader. My leader.”
This time, Chip couldn’t quite keep his eyes from spilling over with a few fat tears. He reached up to wipe them away, and laughed shakily.
“Well thank you. But your leader is going to take some time for himself for awhile. I’m beat, Vilkas. I need to see if my house is still standing. I need to visit my Ma and Da, and my sister. I’ll be up there if you need me. But somehow I think you and Aela and Farkas can handle things for a little bit. Get Torvar to go rescue the next missing dagger.”
“Very well,” Vilkas said, smiling. “And thank you, from the bottom of my heart.”
Qaralana paused to catch her breath before pounding on the door of Chip’s cottage.
“Please be here,” she muttered. “I really can’t do this alone.” She pounded on the door. “Chip? Chip, are you home?”
“Come on in,” a voice called from inside. “Door’s open.”
Qara pushed her way excitedly inside, to find Chip standing there, hands on hips.
“I need you to come with me, big brother!” she cried. “I’ve been to Falskaar. You know, the place where Daddy was born! They’re having a crisis and I’ve promised to help them, but I can’t do it on my own and nobody else will come with me. I stopped at Harald’s house to get him but he’s not home and I really, really need you to come with me. Please?”
It was only then that she noticed how sad Chip looked. How tired.
“Are you ok?”
He smiled, a wan sort of smile but a smile nonetheless.
“I will be. I need to do something, anyway, to take my mind off stuff. Let’s go. sis.”
She nodded, waiting while he filled waterskins and gathered up his bow. I’ll find out what’s going on with him while we’re on the ship.