"You're an idiot. No one has seen, much less heard of, Sondia or any of her children in fifty-plus years, Max." Sophia slammed her mug down on the table.

  "I'm telling ya, she's gonna be makin' a ruckus, I got dis feeling. Eh, James, what'd Sebastian want?" Max's cheeks were ruddy, and his speech was slightly slurred.

  "Nothing, he just wanted to ensure I was okay and how things were going at the forge. We should get our supplies ready." James gave Max a weathered glance. "We need to be going."

  "What's the rush? The night is still young." Sophia's voice cracked, and she leaned on the table for support. "Sit and drink. Kurt will be off shift soon, so we can start drinking properly."

  "Not tonight, Sophia. We have things we need to get done. Max, it's time to go." James pulled on his friend's arm.

  "Ya, I reckon you're right." Max let himself be pulled to his feet. Max wobbled at first, then stiffened, squaring his shoulders. "Night Sophie."

  "Night Max." Sophia took a long pull from her mug, eyes not nearly as drunk as she was pretending. She studied James. "Night, James, don't do anything I wouldn't do."

  James turned away, not wanting to engage with Sophia and whatever games she was playing tonight. Max leaned on James as they stumbled from the Rusty Kettle into the early evening air, crisp against their skin.

  Can I really do what Sebastian is asking of me?

  The thought weighed heavily on James' mind as he led Max through the city streets. With each step, Max seemed to grow steadier as he leaned less on James for support. The warm glow of the general store invited them in. Shelves lined the walls, filled with everything from cotton bandages and tallow candles to walking staffs and cloaks.

  "Master James, Master Max, what a wonderful surprise! It's not quite time for your monthly resupply." Mister Dai, more hunched with age and iron-gray hair, clung stubbornly to the edges of his otherwise bare scalp. Shuffled over to greet them, leaning heavily on his ornated cane.

  "It's good to see you as well Mister Dai. We are actually leaving for an extended camping trip and need some supplies. A fortnight or so of trail rations, a new water skin, some bandages, you know the sort." James shook Mister Dai's hand firmly.

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  "Ah, yes, it's a good time for hunting. Let me see what I have. Ashlynn, can you give me a hand?" Mister Dai peeked his head into the storeroom.

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  "Coming, father." Ashlynn sprang into the room and timidly froze, her eyes landing on Max first, then on James. "You need to leave."

  "Ashlynn, these are loyal customers."

  "No, father. He is a monster. The Bishop warned us about him. I will not help him." She visibly shook, staring at James, and then disappeared into the storeroom.

  "I am terribly sorry, Master James. Could you wait here for a moment?" Mister Dai followed his daughter into the back; James heard them speaking in hushed tones, but couldn't make out the words. He looked at Max, who shrugged and picked up a small metal device with a flip top. Max opened the top, and a small flame jumped to life. With a start, he closed the metal top again with a soft click. Again, he opened it, and the flame again jumped to life.

  "Hey, look at dis. It's like magic, only not magic." Max opened and closed the device a few more times, and James found himself smiling and thinking how helpful something like this could be. "We should get one, ya."

  James let out a small laugh and clapped his friend on the back. "Sure, if you want it. Then, you buy it. You are like a lord or something."

  Max made a face and dug into his coat for his coin purse. A look of panic rolled over it briefly, then settled back into his goofy grin. As he pulled a small sack of coins from his pocket. "Thought I'd lost it. How you think it works?"

  "Sorry, Master James. I can not sell you items tonight." Mister Dai walked out of the storeroom, head held high, but his tone was sad. "Master Max, come back tomorrow, and we have what you need. Tonight, tempers run too hot. Please understand."

  "It's okay, Mister Dai. Thank you for all you do. Come on, Max." Max put down the firestarter and nodded to Mister Dai.

  "See you tomorrow," Max and Mister Dai said in unison. Max chucked as James pushed out into the night again. The butcher and the tailor responded in the same way. They refused to sell to them, saying his business wasn't welcome. The baker spat in James's face before pushing him out the door. James' head hung low as they passed the town square; a mother pulled her daughter away from him as he walked, and a father stood with arms crossed, blocking James' way.

  Not right now. I've had enough tonight.

  "You're not welcome here, boy." He said. "We don't need your kind here."

  "I haven't done anything to any of you," James screamed, throwing his hands in the air. "I save all of you."

  "The Imperium saved us, the Bishop and his men ended the storm, and Sophia and her troops kept the river at bay till the Bishop arrived." A woman called out. A small crowd began to form.

  "Yeah, the Bishop says you and the witch don't belong in Oakwood."

  "Evil magic, that's what you are. A boy who died brought back by evil." An apple exploded against his back, the sweet and sour smell of rotten fruit washing over James. He could see the crowd's faces. Many of them were scared, but a few of the ones yelling the loudest were angry. James could see Mister Dai with Ashlynn at his side; his eyes seemed confused, unsure of what he should do. He started forward, but Ashlynn pulled him back into the general store. A deep sadness built in James' chest as a melon exploded at his feet, rancid juice spilling over his boots.

  "We should go," Max whispered in his ear.

  "The Bishop didn't do anything; it was Max and me; we fought the vessel of the storm, and we saved the town." James spun just as another piece of fruit slammed into him.

  "The light has shown us the truth. The Bishop showed us what truly happened, monster." The crowd began shouting in unison: "Monster, Monster, Monster."

  James ran, pulling his cloak over his head, as more rotten fruit and vegetables rained down upon them. Hot, angry tears streamed down James's face as he pushed through the crowd. He felt elbows or shoulders slam into him as he passed. They hurt but not nearly as much as the words had.

  Why did the Bishop hate me? Why did he turn the town against me? Why?