Cool air settled across the garden behind the inn. The last of the night mist clung low to the grass, turning pale in the early light.
Moss stepped through the narrow path between the fence and the bean trellis.
Beneath his cloak a small pouch hung against his side.
He knelt beside a row of plants he had set into the soil a month before. Their leaves had grown broader since the last rain. Beneath them, thick roots pushed gently against the earth.
Moss brushed the dirt aside with careful fingers.
Two of the roots had grown large enough.
He loosened the soil and lifted them free. Pale orange skin, faintly ridged, with thin hairlike fibres trailing from their ends.
They joined the others in the basket.
Before leaving, Moss paused beside another patch of herbs. The leaves had begun to spread wider across the bed. He adjusted one small stone near the roots before rising again.
The kitchen door stood slightly open.
Moss pushed it wider with his elbow.
Inside, the room smelled faintly of ash and last night's cooking.
Boro knelt before the hearth arranging pieces of wood. A small spark flickered between the kindling, then died.
Across the table, Kael sat with one elbow resting on the wood, his head leaning into his hand.
"My head hurts."
Boro looked up immediately.
"W-were you drinking, s-sir?"
Kael gave a weak shrug.
Moss stepped inside and set the basket on the counter.
From somewhere above the courtyard, fabric shifted in the wind.
He stepped back toward the doorway and looked upward.
Sheets hung from the laundry lines above the roof, their edges lifting gently in the morning breeze.
Between them, a familiar figure moved.
Ruan stood near the edge of the roof, hanging the last cloth across the line.
He noticed Moss looking up.
"New vegetables?"
Moss lifted one hand in quiet agreement.
Ruan finished securing the cloth and disappeared briefly from view.
Kael groaned softly at the table.
"I shouldn't have finished that bottle."
Boro added another piece of wood to the hearth.
"S-soup might help."
Moss slid one of the roots from the basket and set it on the table.
Ruan stepped through the back door a moment later.
He glanced at the root, then at Moss.
"That's what you planted last month."
Moss nodded again.
From inside his cloak, he drew out a folded piece of paper and placed it beside the root.
Ruan unfolded it.
"A recipe?"
Boro leaned closer.
"It's soup from the E-East."
Ruan glanced toward him.
"You know this?"
Boro nodded.
"Y-yes. It helps s-stomach pain… and h-headaches."
Kael raised his head slightly.
"Then we should make a lot."
Moss nodded once more.
***
Boro reached for the pot hanging above the hearth.
The fire caught this time.
Small flames began to grow beneath the iron pot.
Boro stood beside the hearth reading the folded paper before adding the sliced roots to the broth.
Steam drifted toward the rafters.
Moss watched for a moment, then wiped his hands on his cloak and lifted the empty basket.
He slipped back through the kitchen door and returned to the garden.
Kael had moved to the window by then. He sat with one elbow on the table, staring out toward the road while steam from a cup of tea drifted upward before him.
"My head still hurts," he muttered.
Ruan set the cup beside him without comment.
Kael lifted it and took a careful sip.
Across the room, Boro stirred the pot again.
Ruan moved quietly through the hall, wiping the counter, straightening the chairs, and carrying a small bundle of laundry toward the back.
Each time he passed the kitchen doorway he glanced briefly at the pot.
Boro noticed.
He gave a small, shy smile before returning to the recipe.
The smell of the soup slowly spread through the inn.
***
By midday the pot had nearly emptied.
Travellers sat at the tables finishing their bowls while the warmth of the hearth spread through the hall.
Boro moved carefully between the tables, collecting the empty dishes.
Near the window, Kael leaned against the frame watching the road with a piece of bread in his hand.
"This actually worked," he said.
Ruan wiped the counter beside him.
From upstairs came the sound of a door opening.
Miren stepped into the corridor and began descending the stairs, fastening the clasp of his red cloak as he walked.
Halfway down he paused.
The smell reached him before the sight of the bowls.
He looked toward the hearth where Boro stood with the ladle.
"Herb soup?"
Boro looked up.
A shy smile spread across his face.
"Y-you remember this?"
Miren looked at the bowl again.
"We used to eat it on cold mornings."
Kael lifted his bowl slightly.
"It works."
Boro gave a small nod and continued collecting the dishes.
He continued down the remaining steps and took a bowl from the counter.
He tasted it quietly.
***
Outside, the wind moved across the road with a cooler edge than before.
Kael walked slowly toward the counter.
Boro was wiping the last of the bowls when he approached.
"Soup was good," Kael said.
Boro's shoulders lifted slightly.
"T-thank you."
Kael nodded once and turned toward Ruan.
Ruan stood near the doorway, checking the lantern wick.
Kael reached into his pocket.
The small brass key rested in his palm.
He stepped closer and placed it into Ruan's hand.
"Guess I'm checking out."
"Heading south."
Ruan closed his fingers around the key.
"Before the snow finds the road," Kael said.
Ruan nodded once.
"Roads stay busy there."
Kael gave a small breath of a laugh.
"That's the idea."
For a moment neither of them spoke.
The lantern outside tapped softly against its hook.
From the kitchen came the faint sound of Boro moving dishes.
Kael stepped toward the door.
At the threshold, he paused and glanced back once.
The hall looked much the same as when he had first entered weeks ago.
Only now there were a few more voices inside it.
He gave a small nod.
Then he stepped out onto the road and paused beside the lantern, drawing his cloak aside.
Folded wings slipped free from beneath the cloth, dark feathers catching briefly in the afternoon light.
He gave them a small shake, as if easing stiffness from long disuse.
A few strong beats carried him up above the road and the tall grass beyond the fence.
The wind took him south.
The door closed quietly behind him.
Ruan remained where he was, the key still resting in his hand.
***
For a moment after the door closed, no one spoke.
Across the room, Boro paused beside the counter, the cloth still in his hands.
Miren looked toward the door.
"Is he checking out already?"
"Yes."
Miren nodded once.
"Me too. Semester starts soon."
Ruan glanced toward him.
"Full spirit."
"Of course."
A small blue shape slipped from beneath Miren's cloak and landed lightly on the table.
From upstairs, a traveller's voice called down.
"Is the bath still hot?"
Ruan glanced toward the stairwell.
"Yes."
Across the room, Boro was already moving toward the kitchen.
The door stood open.
Just then Moss appeared from the garden, carrying two chickens tucked beneath his arms.
One of them flapped suddenly.
Boro stopped short as the birds nearly wandered into the kitchen.
Moss caught them again and quietly turned back toward the yard.
The hall settled once more.
Ruan walked to the counter.
He opened the drawer and placed the small brass key inside with the others.
The lantern outside swayed gently in the afternoon wind.