donutsweeper

Quail and Olive’s does serve both quail and olives, but turns out to be named for the proprietors, a married Orcish couple who tease them about being on a date until Rhei waves their hands and says “We’re friends” in an exasperated tone that, wonder of wonders, convinces them it’s true.

Later, most of what Mouse remembers is that Rhei keeps pushing more onto Mouse’s plate and hands them the wrapped bag of leftovers—“to share with your father”—because they had ordered far more than it was possible for two people to eat. Mouse doesn’t remember the taste, just the warm light and the way Rhei banters with Olive and smiles at Mouse, including them even though Mouse barely speaks aloud, too overwhelmed by the richness of the food and the way they’re assumed to be a person and not a slave.

Rhei leads them back through Adrium’s streets, calling a glowing orb to their hand to light their path. At Mouse’s start—Adrium is not a city of mages but a city of merchants—Rhei says, “Elf blood,” rather apologetically. “El sighs over the odd array of spells I’ve learned to cast, but light is useful and not too hard.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Mouse says, because Rhei seems to expect some response.

“If you want to learn, you can. Not from me,” Rhei adds a moment later, laughing. “I’d be shit at teaching magic. But Tsarra—she’s the magic-user on retainer at the House—or El probably could teach you the basics. Don’t worry about it right now, there’s no rush, but— It’s an option, should you desire it.”

Desire is something too big for Mouse to consider right now. They’ve desired little things in the past—clean new clothes, a full night’s rest, a piece of cake—but the only big thing they could think of is the freedom they have just begun to attain. They nod, say nothing, and let the strange feeling of possibility bubble through their chest. It feels like anxiety and anticipation, and Mouse can’t look too closely at anything but the longing to see their father again.