Chapter 21
Pan rubbed his wrist, which was still smarting from Feryn’s bite; the euphoria had worn off hours ago.
Another month of being the acting lord. He was kind of getting used to it.
In the way one kind of got used to having a splinter in their foot.
It was there, and it was annoying, but nothing could be done about it yet.
He felt as though Noah should be the acting lord, as he was the one who understood how this world worked.
And if he didn’t, Nan and David knew what to do.
Noah knew who to talk to. All he did was tell Noah and Feryn his ideas. He spoke to the Tarikians in town and took their problems back to Noah and Feryn, or he offered prayers to Pan—which most of them accepted as they believed him to be one of Pan’s temple attendants.
Feryn had come to the conclusion that at the Samhain party, he could no longer claim injury and mourning.
He was going to have to explain why he’d appointed Silas to run around.
Noah had unhelpfully suggested that Feryn needed someone to run around because he couldn’t do everything or be everywhere at once in this strange and damaged world.
So while Feryn collated the information on houses, and people’s complaints and needs, and tried to make a plan, it was Pan and Noah trying to fix smaller issues, which usually involved making multiple deals which they needed to then settle.
And while that was the usual way things worked when it came to favors, he was starting to understand why humans simply used money.
Because getting the ogre a bicycle so she could ride around to visit the injured had involved asking the werewolves to clear the rubble at the home of the man who owned the shop that sold bikes.
The owner had been quite grateful because he had been told that his house wouldn’t be taken care of any time soon by the humans.
With the damaged part of the house cleared away and the undamaged part propped up, the werewolves had then made another deal to fix it.
Not rebuild, as that was too much, but wall up the open side so the house was weatherproof.
The man then moved back in, instead of living in his shed.
As a result, the werewolves now also had bikes to ride to work.
It had only taken the pack three days under Jarot’s direction.
It wasn’t what the humans in charge wanted, because the house wasn’t put back to how it had been, but the bike shop owner didn’t care that he lost his living room and a bedroom.
He cared that he and his wife were back in their house, even if it meant sleeping in the smaller bedroom at the back of the house.
Pan had no doubt that it was because of advice from the werewolves that the bike shop owner had come and collected some dragon poo to expand his vegetable patch.
In return, he had handed over paper money, saying that he didn’t have anything unwanted because it had gotten damaged, but he had plenty of money, which he and his wife weren’t exactly spending, and they figured Linda would make sure it was put to good use.
There’d been a few reports of humans spitting when they walked past a werewolf or ogre or even Rohan.
They were obviously Tarikian in a way that couldn’t be hidden.
The elves and Tarikian humans were much harder to spot.
So far, none of the Tarikian’s had retaliated, but the tension was growing, and not just in this town but everywhere.
In some places, there’d been nothing but fighting.
Other places were trying to divide cities into areas.
There had been enclaves like that on Tariko, but they had formed naturally, with some kinds preferring their own company.
Ogres often lived in their own communities outside of cities.
Lesser dragons raised their young in colonies far from other kinds.
Forcing a separation didn’t sit right.
But even in this town, there were streets and suburbs, as Noah called them, that were mostly Tarikian because of the buildings that survived. Once again, he found himself wishing that the collapse had happened the other way.
“Are you able to sit out front of the tavern?” He clicked to the dragons. “We are having a Samhain party and would like you to be a part of it.”
“Will there be meat?”
“I’m sure there will be something.” Though not much because of the supply chain issue.
David had explained that much of the food came from elsewhere.
As in from over the sea. It seemed ridiculous.
City-states traded with nearby ones for the items they didn’t have, and more distant trade was typically not for food items. To put the fate of your people in the whims of a distant city-state was foolhardy at best.
“Everyone is excited to see you, after all your help.” Flattery usually worked with dragons.
The female sat up and flexed her wings. Elise had been back to clean up the damage, and Pan had been forced to tell the female that she’d never fly again—he’d expected to be incinerated or eaten—and had been relieved when the female had admitted that she knew, and it was one of the reasons they had decided to stay near the palace instead of moving somewhere quieter.
Most dragons did not live in the city, but then this wasn’t Tariko, and the old rules no longer applied—not to them or humans.
The dragons agreed to walk around the corner and plant their asses in the street. Sure, they didn’t have council approval to close the street, but who was going to come and tell the dragons to move?
No one, because he was the only one who could speak to them.
Noah’s video of the deliveries had gained a lot of interest from the humans—not all of it good. But no Tarikians and no lesser dragons had contacted them. There had to be some still alive, so Pan hoped it was a technology issue in that they didn’t have phones yet.
Around the front of the tavern, people were milling about, talking and embracing.
He considered taking off the hat, but didn’t.
Instead, he stepped through the doors and into the bar.
While there were no alcoholic drinks, Linda had made tea, and the vampires had created some more traditional fare using human ingredients.
Tiny cakes with a nut inside for new starts.
The drak were in charge of handing them out.
By the palace doors, a table had been set up for Feryn to mark off names, and Noah was sitting next to him to help with the listing of trades, but later, he was going to sing with Liam and Web.
While Pan had objected to Web attending on the principle that he couldn’t be trusted, he was part of the group, and he probably wouldn’t stay after because this wouldn’t be his kind of thing. Or at least that’s what Noah claimed.
After hearing that Noah sang, Feryn insisted that he perform, along with others. Pan helped Linda with the tea, and for the first few hours, it was families coming to leave an offering at the shrine the drak had set up, burn a slip of paper containing a prayer, and accept a Samhain cake.
The adults gave the names of the dead and confirmed their skills while the children danced to whomever was playing or singing.
Liam arrived and contributed some drumming. And the crowd gradually shifted from families to adults who aired grievances and complained about the absence of the gods. Pan was glad he’d kept the hat on in case someone looked at his horns and questioned what he was.
Kirel took over from Feryn at the table so he could talk to his people, and Nate swapped with Noah.
Noah scanned the room for him and made his way over. He looped his arms around Pan’s waist and kissed his cheek. “I thought you loved parties.”
“I do.” But this wasn’t a party in the true sense of the word.
It was the end of the year and the start of a new one, and a hope for better times, following all the loss.
Even on Tariko, it was an end and a start.
An acknowledgement that nothing stayed the same and everything changed.
People often took the opportunity to announce separations or engagements.
They cast their hopes and dreams into the flames, hoping that a god would listen.
He was listening to everything they said, and it weighed on his heart in a way that prayers never had.
He’d always been filled with a lightness and the knowledge that he was able to help either in small ways or dramatic ways.
Now, even the small things weren’t enough; he kept hitting rock walls and then had to make a new plan to avoid another obstacle.
Nothing he did was enough.
And while he had always been loved for what he could do, now he didn’t even have that. So if this had been a party, or even an orgy, he would have shown himself the door for bringing down the mood—or vibe, as Noah said.
“It is hard to explain.” How did he say that they hadn’t done enough when they were already working as hard as they could? That the longer he went without magic, the more he feared he would never be part of it. And if that was true, what was he?
He didn’t deserve the shrine and the offered wishes.
He certainly couldn’t rip the hat off his head and reveal the truth the way the Strega thought he should.
“Have you cast a wish into the fire?”
Pan tilted his head and stared up at him. “Why would I do that?”
“Why not? Just because you…” Noah stopped himself as if aware people might be listening. “The fire carries the wishes to magic?”
“Yes. Oh.” Pan gave a single nod. While he couldn’t reach magic without Noah, that didn’t mean the wishes wouldn’t make it through, though it was a much cruder method. “I suppose I could. Perhaps you should also.”
“Where do I start?”
“I do not know. We have started so many times.”
Noah grabbed his hand and led him out of the bar to the kitchen. He grabbed the notepad and tore a page in half before handing Pan a pen. “If you could have anything in the world…this world…what would it be?”