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“Where are you off to?” Tav asks, as Lae’zel scoops Ghir up, still wrapped in its blanket.
“To take Ghir to look upon the Tears,” Lae’zel says tersely. She pads across the room to the door and pauses with her hand on it. “If I cannot give it a crystal cradle, then I will at least let it look upon what could have been its home.”
Tav stares at the open doorframe after Lae’zel is gone. She knew the visit to Jaheira’s house hit Lae’zel hard, with Lae’zel saying she was starting to wonder about the shu’kyani who laid her egg. This, though…
Well. She won’t go chasing after Lae’zel. Tav stands up from the desk, stretches, and goes out into the common room. She may as well get some water, if she’s going to be awake at this hour of the night. It’s well past ten o’clock.
They’re going down into the undercity tomorrow to try to reach the Temple of Bhaal. There’s no more time to wait; Halsin needs them. And it won’t be long before Orin realizes what’s happened, that they’re not going to bring her a Netherstone.
For safety, the children and animals will be relocated to Jaheira’s house. Varrl, Rion, and Jord are all around the same age. They’ll be able to protect the younger children, and they’re all wise enough to know when it’s time to get out of the city.
Tav’s not happy to leave the children out of her sight like that. Right now, though, they’re safer when Tav isn’t around. It’s hard.
Varrl is out in the common room, cleaning his armor. It’s new, proper githyanki armor, like Lae’zel used to wear. He looks fine in it. Every inch a true githyanki warrior. Tav can barely stand to see him in it. It’s wrong, to have such a kind-faced soft-spoken storyteller wearing armor meant to be stained with blood. But he wears it proudly, with such excitement, that Tav can’t bear to dampen his enthusiasm.
“Jhe’stil—um, Tav,” Varrl says, scrambling to his feet.
“Sit, please,” Tav says, sitting down beside him. “You’re up late.”
“I couldn’t sleep,” Varrl says. He sits down, ducking his head. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right. I’m having trouble myself.” Tav squeezes his narrow shoulder. “Nightmares?”
Varrl shakes his head. “No, just…thinking.”
“Me too,” Tav says. She looks at the low fire, letting her thoughts spin around.
“I saw Lae’zel,” Varrl says. “She was headed up to the roof with Ghir.”
“Said she wants to take it to look at the Tears,” Tav says. She sighs. “Something about letting it see home.”
Varrl drops the gauntlet he holds with a clatter to the floor. Tav sits bolt upright, startled. Varrl flinches back.
“What is it?” Tav asks.
He looks at her for a second, then picks up the gauntlet. “She’s from K’liir?”
“…Yes?”
“And you trust her with Ghir?”
“Should I not?”
This time Varrl downright cringes. “I shouldn’t criticize, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
“Varrl.” Tav speaks gently, but firmly. “If there’s something you think puts Ghir, anyone, at risk, I need to know. I won’t be angry with you.”
Turning the gauntlet over in his hands, Varrl says, “K’liir has a…reputation.”
“Not a good one?”
“No,” Varrl says. “Its old commander was…even our kith’rak didn’t like her. Varsh Ko’kuu said he’d slit his own throat before serving on K’liir.”
Lead settles in Tav’s stomach.
“At Y’llek we had the sun, you know,” Varrl says. “We could go for walks to forage. Train and study outside. They raided caravans sometimes to bring back fresh food. That’s…not how it is up there. It’s an asteroid, you can’t see anything but space and you can’t walk very far. They eat preserved food, or things they hunt on the Tears. I heard visiting warriors talk about it, how much they hated even short assignments. One of them told us to try not to go there.”
“Lae’zel never told me,” Tav says. “She said Y’llek was undisciplined, but…”
Varrl shakes his head violently. “K’liir’s…it’s insane,” he says. “They have a dragon hatchery there, and a proper port, so the really fanatical knights and ch’r’ai are always going in and out. And…a portal to the Crystal Labyrinth.”
Every time Tav talks for any length of time with Varrl and Lae’zel, she ends up feeling like a backwater bumpkin. They know so many things that she’s never even imagined. “The what?”
“Part of a dungeon in a great mountain on Toril,” Varrl says. “There’s an outpost there, because there’s a ghaik colony in the same mountain. A big one. K’liir doesn’t have to send its warriors very far to hunt ghaik. There’s a lot of early graduations, but…a lot of them die, too.”
Now Tav feels sick.
“And it’s just…right there,” Varrl goes on. He gestures around a little wildly. “Right in the middle of K’liir! If something ever went wrong, the ghaik could come through. They did a year ago, too. Right up into the middle of the creche.”
“Lae’zel did tell me about that.”
“It scared everyone,” Varrl says. He swallows hard. “That was when Y’llek went…bad. The kith’rak and the varsh started arguing in public about the eggs and hatchlings. When training should start. Training was always hard but not like it was when you came. It was like…like everyone remembered that the ghaik want us gone. K’liir had been doing it right all along.”
The fire crackles softly. Outside on the street there’s a faint shouting. A dog barks. Neither Tav nor Varrl speak.
“I’m sure Ghir is safe with her,” he says at last. Almost timid. “She wouldn’t hurt it.”
No, she wouldn’t hurt an infant, Tav is dead sure of that. But this does give her a lot to think about for when Ghir gets older. A lot to think about for Yenna and Varrl. She doesn’t say that aloud, though. “Thank you for telling me,” she says instead.
She holds out her hand, an invitation without pressure. After a moment Varrl slides sideways on the sofa to lean against Tav. She hugs him like that, arm around his shoulders. He’s tense at first, then sags into her. Tav kisses the top of his head.
“How about you go lie down, at least?” she asks gently. “Light a candle and read. Your armor is clean enough, it looks like.”
“…I can do that,” Varrl says.
Tav walks him back to the room he shares with Yenna, next door to the one she and Lae’zel share. When Tav steps in, Yenna is sound asleep, her blankets thrown all over the place and teddy bear on the floor. While Varrl lights his candle, Tav carefully tucks Yenna back in, the teddy bear in her bed, and kisses the little girl’s forehead.
In the corner, Grub and Scratch and the baby owlbear are all in a heap. The owlbear and Grub are sleeping, but Scratch is awake. Keeping an eye on everyone, it seems. Tav pauses to rub behind Scratch’s ears, smiling when his tail thumps on the floor, then leaves as quietly as she can.
Lae’zel returns just before midnight. Ghir is sound asleep in her arms. Her eyes are a little red and puffy. Tav doesn’t comment.
Instead, she settles Ghir in its small wooden cradle while Lae’zel changes for bed. She’s adopted a floor-length nightgown, since nights in Baldur’s Gate can get cold when the wind comes in off the harbor. Tav thinks it looks adorable, but hasn’t got the courage to say that.
She does have the courage to hug Lae’zel tight.
For now, there’s no point in bringing up K’liir. No point in asking about Lae’zel’s sudden worries about who her biological parent might have been. The first can be discussed later. The second, Lae’zel will bring up in her own time. Or she won’t, and Tav won’t pry.
“How were the Tears tonight?” Tav asks.
“Beautiful,” Lae’zel says quietly. She rests her head on Tav’s chest. “As they always were.”