"Your name is Na-Tristan, right?"

Tristan nodded, then frowned at me from across the little table in the village chief's living room. "Yes, but don't call me that. I hate my full name."

The [Ring of Detect Lies] didn't do anything. We'd figured out that that meant she was telling the truth.

"You sure you should be dropping off part of your name? Wouldn't that be disrespectful to your people?"

"No!"

The ring got tighter around my finger. Not painfully tight, but enough that I could feel it. "You're lying."

She huffed. "Damn thing." Glaring at the ring, she continued, "Okay, so, my people drop the grove name when we're with friends and family. If we're with strangers, we usually go by our full names, but if we shorten it, we typically go by our grove names rather than our given names, but it's not a hard rule. It's up to each individual what they're comfortable with."

"Wait, so Ro's name is Saleh? And Na-Ya's name is Ya?"

"Yes and yes. Sun elves don't have groves, though. They have houses. Still, it's the same idea, but they're more prickly about their names. My people are far less uptight about it."

"Why don't you use your grove name then?"

She pursed her lips. "First, because Na-Tristan sounds terrible. That's what happens when human names get mixed with elven names. Second, because Na-Ya is around, too. I'd usually be called something like 'Little Na' or 'The Younger Na' or something equally terrible. If someone called me anything like that, I'd actually kill them. Third, I don't want to talk about it.

Okay, so her name was connected to whatever she was holding back. Noted. Redirecting, I said, "Okay, let's do another test. What's my full name?"

She opened her mouth, but no words came out. Instead, her brows knitted.

"You don't remember my last name, do you?" I watched as her eyes unfocused. "No using the system! Cheater!"

Guilt crossed her face, followed by righteous indignation. "It's not my fault Earth names are so weird! Why do you have last names on Earth, anyway? At least in Istaera and Deneir, everyone goes by their class title. Jorn the Templar. Renard the Paladin. Na-Ya the Priestess. Names like that. But you people have random names. What the hell is a Clark?" Her face lit up. "Clark! You're name is Alex Clark."

"Hey, that wasn't too bad. You got there the long way around."

"See? I wouldn't forget something like that."

The ring tightened again. "You totally forgot!"

"Nah-uh." She pretended to pout. "I can't believe you'd believe a stupid ring over your lovely mate." Her eyes even got a little misty.

"Oh, shush. You big faker."

She grinned. "I would never fake anything."

The ring got tighter. Wait a second... "What do you mean by mate?"

Her smile vanished, and her eyes grew wide. "Uh... I meant partner. Boyfriend?" She chuckled nervously. "What are we anyway?" She was the actual worst liar, and I would know. I was terrible at it. What made the lie even more glaring was the fact that the ring got three times tighter than it had during all the other tests. This wasn't a baby lie to her. She was hiding something.

"Tristan..."

"Consort. I like the sound of that. Do you?" She batted her eyes.

"Sure. But don't change the subject!"

She rolled her eyes. "I don't want to talk about it. I'm not ready." Instead of sounding serious, she sounded seriously bratty.

"Okay, you're starting to milk that excuse now."

"So? What are you going to do about it, huh?" She thrust her chin upward and looked at me out of the corner of her eye.

A few ideas crossed my mind. Each was more racy than the last. "Don't tempt me, woman. You might just like it."

Her eyes sparkled. "You lech." She swatted my hand, but a massive smile was plastered on her face. "You're worse than Jorn under all that handsome, I swear." Putting on her mostly priestly face, she added, "You should stop thinking like that. It's bad for your soul."

I had her now. "So, you're telling me you never have any Jorn thoughts about me?"

"Never!"

The ring grew even tighter than it had after the previous lie, so tight that it started to hurt. "Mmhmm. So you definitely didn't have any Jorn thoughts last night either, huh? And you haven't done anything to take care of those thoughts, have you? Maybe when I stepped out this morning?"

Her face turned bright red. "Um... No?"

The ring got tight enough that I started to worry it might actually hurt me. "Uh, oh. The ring says you're lying."

"Don't listen to it!"

I held up my finger. It was turning red. "You'll have to tell the truth now. Otherwise, I might lose this finger of mine."

She turned into a tomato. "Okay, okay. Maybe once... Or twice. But not this morning."

The ring got tighter. My finger turned purple.

She squirmed. "Okay! Fine. Lots lately... Once in your bed... Definitely this morning..."

When the ring stopped crushing my poor finger, I burst out laughing. "Who's the lech now?"

Her hand shot across the table. Ripping the ring from my finger, she grinned. "Now, Mr. Lecher, you can't prove that I'm anything other than a sweet, innocent flower anymore."

I laughed even harder. "Too late, Tris. I've seen the light."

"Whatever." She slipped the ring onto her finger. "What about you, huh? I'm not about to believe you aren't twice as bad as I am."

I smirked. "I'm not answering that."

Her face dropped. "That's an option?"

"Guess so." I stuck my tongue out at her. "Plus, I've caught you staring at me more than a few times now. It doesn't take a magical ring to figure out what's behind those hungry eyes."

"Pssh, you think too much of yourself." She rolled her eyes at me. "Don't go reading things that aren't there. When I do that, which isn't often, I always think of..." She burst out laughing. "The first name that came to mind was Jorn. Definitely not him." She put on her bratty face again. "But not you, either!"

I put my elbow on the table and placed my chin on my fist. "Say what you want, but I can see into your soul." I lifted my hands and wiggled my fingers over an imaginary crystal ball. "Yes, yes. I see it clearly. Your soul, it's filled with Alex Clark, the handsome fighter from a faraway land who stole your heart when you least expected it."

She laughed. "I see! So, great seer. If my soul is so filled with this Alex guy, what should I do about it, hmm?"

"Well, see, when a mommy loves a daddy a whole lot, she asks him to take her to bed and—"

"Okay!" She stood up and pulled the ring off. Handing it back to me, she walked to the door and opened it. "I think it's time to start our investigation, don't you?" Without waiting for my response, she disappeared. I heard the front door open, and she walked out.

Standing up, I chuckled to myself as I followed her back into the big, scary world beyond our flirty little bubble.

***

When the Tower's light was just past its peak, Tristan and I doubled back through Goodfield. We'd decided the best course of action was to talk to everyone we could find, so that's what we did. So far, we'd found several dozen people, and not a single one of them knew a damn thing. The ring never budged. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

Everyone was doing the normal stuff you'd expect villagers to be doing: gardening, cooking, laundry. Kids played in the dirt roads, chased by dogs. A couple of younger teenagers held hands and kissed each other when they thought no one was watching. That was very cute. Even the kids were back at the river, fishing and playing like nothing had happened. Belha seemed a little shaken, but that was about it.

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"Should we go talk to Bertram and Bethany?" I asked Tristan.

She shook her head. "Yeah, but I hate the idea that they could be part of something like this."

"I don't think they are, but we should rule them out, right?"

Sighing, she said, "Yeah..."

We started walking up the trail. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, a man appeared on the trail in front of us. He had thick red hair, wore dirty overalls, and carried a pitchfork in one hand. His green eyes narrowed as he saw us. "Afternoon, folks," the man said as we got close.

"Afternoon." I smiled at him. "Nice day, isn't it?"

"'Tis."

The ring tightened.

"I'm Alex, and this is Tristan. What's your name?"

He hesitated for a few seconds, studying my face before answering. "Edgar. Edgar the Farmer."

"Nice to meet you, Edgar. If you don't mind my asking, what do you farm?" Tristan asked beside me.

"Beets, mostly. A few cabbages. Got some chickens." He set his pitchfork into the ground and leaned on it. "You two are with the Templars, right?"

"Yes, sir." I smiled again. "I'm just a recruit, though. Nothing special. Tristan here is the real deal, a certified priestess-in-training."

His face softened. "You're an acolyte?"

She nodded. "I am."

His standoffishness faded. "Here, I thought the priestess left with the others this morning." His eyes lifted to the sky, and I saw his lips working in silent prayer. A moment later, he looked back at her. "My lady, would you have time to take a look at my son? He's got some kind of bane in his foot, and I just can't seem to help him shake it."

Tristan looked at me. Her eyes told me she was nervous. I nodded to her, channeling as much support as I could through my eyes.

Setting her jaw, she said, "Yes. I can take a look. Just know that I'm still learning."

He nodded. "We all start somewhere. Any help you can give would be appreciated." Turning, he pointed up the road. "That way's our home. Follow me."

***

The man was right. His son's foot looked bad. It was swollen and bright red. Pus seeped from a swollen wound on the sole. It didn't take a medical degree or magic to know something needed to be done.

The boy was lying on a small couch in the man's living room. Tristan was kneeling by his foot and reading from a small book she'd pulled from her robe's pocket. A look of concentration and a bit of fear was plastered across her face as she pored over the pages. "It's definitely infected, but this is no curse." She closed the book, reached out, and moved his toes.

That made the young man squirm, but aside from a tiny groan, he didn't make a sound.

"What happened?" I asked him.

The boy was quiet for a time, then said, "Nothing. Just stepped on a rock wrong, is all. I don't need any help."

I could tell he was doing that thing young guys did when they didn't want to appear weak. I was that kid once. "I remember one time I stepped on a nail at work. Went right through my foot. Scariest week of my life."

His face got tense. "Did you?"

"What?"

"Lose your foot?"

"No, thankfully. Went to the doctor and got it patched up."

I saw the wheels turning in his head. "Will it hurt?"

"A little," Tristan said.

"She's an expert, though. Trust me." I pulled back my tunic sleeve and showed him the scars that ran up my arm. While they'd faded a lot, the lightning scars were still easily visible. "She found me on a roadside and carried me back to Light's Hope Temple all by herself. I was so beat up that I nearly died."

He looked at me."Did it hurt?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Badly. I couldn't move my arm for a long time, and my knee was shattered. But every day, Tristan came and healed me. It hurt at first, but then it started feeling good. Real good. And before long, I found myself looking forward to her coming. It was always the best part of my day." It was far better than when Lady Varga practically folded me in half.

Tristan looked up at me. "It was?" The pride and love in her eyes warmed my heart.

"Yeah. It was."

The boy looked her over. "Is she a master healer?"

"She's going to be."

Tristan scoffed. "I'm a far cry from that, but I'll do my best."

The boy was silent for a time, but slowly he nodded.

"Okay." She pulled the little book back out and opened it to a dog-eared page. "Bear with me, okay? I'm trying something I've been working on for a while." She started reading the page under her breath.

I placed a hand on her shoulder. "You've got this." I knew that, other than [Bless], which the system had granted her, she'd been struggling to learn any spells, but I believed she'd get it now.

She nodded and kept reading.

For a long time, nothing happened. Then, slowly, I felt her skin heat up. She lifted her hand, and a golden glow began to emit from it. Her throat caught, and she started giggling. "Alex, are you seeing this?"

"I am."

"I can't believe it."

"You're amazing."

The light grew brighter and brighter. With a twist of her wrist, light erupted from her hand.

[Healing Light]

The boy watched the light bloom, his eyes wide.

"Be strong." Tristan reached forward and pressed the light to the boy's foot.

He gasped and tried to pull away, but Tristan held his leg in place. "It's going to be okay."

"You're doing well," I added.

Gritting his teeth, he squirmed as the light entered his foot. Almost immediately, the swelling faded, and the red skin turned pink.

After a few minutes, she lifted her hand and cleaned it, and the boy's foot, with a vinegar-soaked rag. "There. It's still going to hurt for a few days, but that should be a good start."

Edgar walked to the boy's side. "You did well, son."

"Thanks..." The boy looked down, but I could tell he appreciated the praise.

Standing, Tristan looked at me and smiled. "I did it."

I took her hand. "I never doubted you for a second."

"I know. But I did." She pocketed the small book and turned back to the boy and his father. "No walking for a few days, okay? And when you can walk, no hard work for at least two weeks."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Of course, my lady."

With a satisfied smile, she made for the front door. I followed.

When we got outside, she turned and wrapped me in a massive hug.

"I did it!" She was giggling. "I finally did it! I learned a spell!"

I pulled her close. "I'm so proud of you."

She looked up at me. "It's because of you. I mean, yeah, Na-Ya taught me the spell's basics, and Renard and the others helped me prepare, but what you were saying to the boy... You made me believe I could do it." She stood up on her tiptoes and pulled me down. I cupped her cheek and pulled her closer. Our lips met for a soft, easy kiss. When we broke away, she said, "Thank you."

"It's what mates do, right?"

She swatted me. "Partners. Consorts?"

I grinned. "Whatever we are, I'm glad we're here for one another."

"I am, too."

***

It was nearing evening, and aside from Edgar, whose lie was nothing more than him hiding that he was stressed about his son's foot, no one else had hidden anything from us. A few people opened up, sharing that they were worried about the stuff happening around the village, and a few were mourning the village chief's death, but that was about it. We'd even gone to Bertram and Bethany's, but aside from a little extra healing Tristan gave them and their gratitude for our help the other day, our visit gave us no new leads.

"Should we try again tomorrow?" Tristan asked.

I sighed. "Yeah. Probably." We'd been exploring the eastern part of the village, but there weren't many homes out that way. "I'm sure if we keep trying, we'll find something eventually." I went to turn around, but the sound of humming stopped me.

"Someone's coming." Tristan was looking to the northeast.

Looking through the brush, I could see someone walking up an adjacent trail. Their gait was off, and I could make out a cane through the brush. Stepping forward, I pushed a bush aside and took a look at the traveler.

It was Jorn.

"Hey, Jorn!"

He jumped. "Who's there?"

"It's us." I pushed the branches aside and stepped through the bushes. A moment later, I was in front of him. "What'cha up to?"

He chuckled and wiped the sweat from his brow. "Phew, scared the daylights out of me. Thought you might have been one of those rabid villagers come back from the dead."

"Yeah, sorry." Tristan joined us a few seconds later. She'd taken the long way around.

Jorn looked back and forth between us. "So, what are you kids doing?"

"Just spending the day talking to people in town. We thought we'd see if we could figure some things out."

He nodded. "Not a bad idea." He wiped his forehead again. He seemed nervous.

"Jorn..." Tristan's voice was heavy. "Are you okay?"

He blew a raspberry. "Sure, sure. Fit as a fiddle."

The ring tightened. I looked down at his leg. It was very bruised still. "You sure about that?"

He laughed. "Not at all. My leg hurts like hell. But with Na-Ya gone, I decided to go out and see the healer here in Goodfield."

Tristan cocked her head. "The healer? I didn't know there was a healer in Goodfield."

He pointed his cane back up the trail. "Yeah. Old friend of mine. She lives up the way 'bout a half mile."

Something he said made the ring tighten. "A friend? How long have you known her?"

He scratched his head. "Oh, ten years, maybe? We used to date a long time ago. Way out of my league, that one was. Don't know how I bagged her."

The ring got tighter still. Looking at him closely, I considered his words. I couldn't pin down which thing he was lying about. But, maybe if I kept asking questions, it would clear up? "You sure you went for healing, you old goat? Sounds more like you went for a little something something."

He grinned. "You know, I thought about it. But with this leg so torn up, I wouldn't be able to give her my best. Maybe next time."

The ring didn't budge. That was true. "So, she's pretty, huh?"

"Very."

Still nothing. "How'd you two meet?"

He wiped more sweat from his brow. "What is this, an interrogation?"

I held up my hands. "Not at all. I just thought a guy like you'd want to brag if she's really as hot as you say she is."

His eyes lit up. "Oh, trust me. She is. You should go see her and tell me what you think."

The ring didn't move. "Maybe we will."

Tristan chimed in. "Hey, don't change the subject, old man. I want to hear how you two met." I had a feeling she was catching the same scent I was and was helping out.

"You know, it's been a while. Where was I...?" He scratched his head again. "I think we met at a tavern in Llyn. Or was it in Fairview? Honestly, I can't remember. Wherever it was, I charmed the pants right off her." In response to the memory, he grinned that patented grin of his.

That was true, too. "You dog."

"You know it."

What else had he said? "So, ten years, huh?" I looked down at Tristan. "I wonder what we'll be doing in ten years?"

"Hopefully, traveling and having fun, like we did today."

"I can handle that."

Jorn looked at us both. "Seeing you two gives this old goat some jealousy something fierce. Wish I could go back ten years and tell myself to stick with Greta."

That made the ring tighten. "Greta?"

"My friend. The healer."

Huh. Had he known her longer or something? Why would he hide that? "Maybe we'll go pay her a visit."

Tristan looked up the trail, then up at the sky. "You don't think it's too late?"

He shook his head. "Not at all. She loves company. Just tell her I sent you, and she'll make you some of her best tea."

I slapped his shoulder. "We'll do that then. You take care of yourself and get some rest, alright?"

"Don't worry about me too much. It'll age you." He shifted on his cane. "But thanks. I appreciate the concern." Turning, he started back for the village. "And tell her I'll be back tomorrow. If my leg's good enough, maybe I'll give her a taste of what she's been missing." I watched as he limped up the trail until he disappeared behind a tree.

"He was lying about how long he'd known her."

Tristan nodded. "I thought you were getting at something. Why would he lie about that, though?"

"Don't know. But, maybe we should visit this healer of his and see if she's all he said she is."

"Yeah. Let's do that. I'd like to meet this fellow healer of mine."

We turned and walked the way Jorn had pointed.

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