Chapter 6

"This is so stupid! I hate it!"

As she walked down the street, Tina vented her frustrations to the world.

"Stupid old man!"

She knew she didn't really mean the things that came out of her mouth. She was just frustrated, feeling trapped. No matter what she did, she couldn't get out of this backwater town.

Tina's thoughts shifted from her wallow in self pity to curiosity, as she noted a group of men walking in her direction. They looked like adventurers. In spite of the potential rudeness, Tina couldn't help but stare. For as far back as she could remember she had always admired– and envied–adventurers. By and large, they were brave and strong. They never stayed in the same place for very long, which in and of itself was a reason for Tina's fascination. And unlike the unrelenting boredom of her life, their lives were interesting.

In fact, they were the sole reason a town like Midfield, at the butt end of nowhere, could even exist. The coin they spent created what little merchantry there was in these parts.

Tina dreamed of having as much freedom as they had.

The men passed Tina without glancing her way, seemingly mindless of her attention. She realized they must be used to this sort of behavior in country bumpkins. Adventurers were, after all, the closest thing there was to heroes in this part of the world, and they garnered more than their share of attention. As she watched, Tina thought they must be heading to her father's tavern, since there wasn't much else worth noting in the direction from which she had just come.

For a moment, Tina imagined herself walking beside those men, headed out on an adventure of some sort, sword at her side, fighting monsters to make her living.

She desperately wished for that reality. But if wishes were horses, beggars would ride. Unfortunately, she was nothing more than a tavern keeper's daughter. And what she needed right now was to hurry and complete the task her father had given her. He was generally a kind man, but he was also someone who didn't appreciate laziness.

Besides, if she hurried, she might get back in time to hear some of the adventurers' stories.

Invigorated by that thought, Tina began to jog toward the market on the far side of town. She didn't want to miss out on the only excitement the town had seen in quite some time. Who knew when another opportunity would come her way?

*

The sun was setting when Tina headed back to the tavern. She squinted into the low light, feeling dejected. She'd had to go to multiple sellers to get the best prices, and that had taken more time than she expected. The only thing her father liked less than laziness was wasting money, so in spite of the urgent desire to get home as soon as possible, she had dutifully argued and haggled.

She shifted the knapsack on her shoulders to better settle the weight, and watched as the last arc of the setting sun disappeared behind the tall peak of Tarragon's Tooth to the west.

There was no way the adventurers would still be at the tavern. She sighed and kicked a stone down the lane ahead. Nobody arrived for lunch and then stayed all day.

Except, perhaps, for when a man had just lost his job and was trying to avoid telling his wife. But that had only happened once, as far as Tina could recall. John Grug had sat for hours at the bar, sipping his half pint of beer.

Tina was still terrified of Grug's wife after that incident. The way the woman had thrown open the tavern door, immediately pinpointed her husband, and proceeded without any sort of preamble to beat him with a long wooden spoon.

There were definitely things to admire about that sort of feistiness, but Tina never wanted to get on her bad side either.

Finally, Tina could see the warm light spilling out of the tavern windows ahead. Her feet were tired from being on them most of the day, and having to carry heavy bags as well as her knapsack didn't help. Thanks to how frequently her father made her do this walk, she was certainly used to it–and had probably even benefited from it–but that didn't make her enjoy it any more.

"Next time it's your turn to buy groceries! I've already done it three times this week!"

Tina called out the words while opening the door to the tavern. Silence was the only response.

"Dad?" Still no response. "Hello?"

Weird. It was nearly time for things at the tavern to start picking up. Locals were getting off work soon, and many would want a quick drink to help them relax before they headed home. So where was Tina's father?

If he'd left on some errand of his own, he should be getting back anytime now, so Tina started preparing for the evening by herself. She opened the trap door beneath the bar to put the vegetables she had just purchased into the cellar, then climbed back up the ladder and started cleaning and preparing the mugs that would be used by their customers.

As she bent to grab some mugs off a lower shelf, she noticed something that made her pause. Her father's dagger was gone. It had been there behind the bar for as long as she could remember. The only time she'd ever seen it out was when her father was oiling and sharpening the blade. He never actually used it for anything, so she always wondered why he even bothered to maintain it.

The door to the tavern suddenly burst open. A tall, skinny man stood in the doorway, struggling to catch his breath. He wore overalls and a miner's jacket, the cloth dark with ground-in grime. It was Grug. He usually showed up a bit later in the evening, so Tina looked at him curiously. The man's face looked pale in the lantern, as though he had just seen some phantom spectre.

"What's up, Grug? What's the hurry? Are you that badly in need of a drink? Is the wife after you with a spoon again?"

Tina couldn't help but tease him. After all, she had known him most of her life, and he was as close to being an uncle as she was ever likely to have.

"No. Tina, it's not that."

Grug's words and voice were uncharacteristically serious.

"It's your father Tina. He's…" Grug choked up.

"My father? Where is he?"

Grug just beckoned for her to follow. She dropped the mug she had been polishing on the counter and ran out the door after him.

Tina felt a sense of dread. Something had happened to her father. Had the missing dagger been a coincidence? It couldn't have. She tried to hold back her surging emotions so she could be clear headed, but with Grug just running silently ahead of her, she was left with nothing but anxious questions and no answers.

As they neared the Town Center, she saw a group of people gathered in one corner of the square, next to the Tillman's Bakery. Tina had never seen so many people in the Town Center at this time of day. Most were usually long since home preparing their evening meals.

Grug ran straight toward the group, and forced his way through them. Tina followed right behind him. People were talking in hushed tones as she passed through.

"What does this mean?"

��Is it true? Is Midfield really cursed?"

"Was there a fight?"

"This is terrible. I wish I had left when Uncle Midge moved away."

"Who did it?"

"And he was such a nice man."

The bits of conversation made Tina's heart race faster. Uncertainty and anticipation was making her feel sick.

Finally Grug pushed through into the center of the crowd. Tina saw two men dressed in white robes. Priests. One was standing with his eyes closed, hands clasped, chanting an incantation from one of the mantras. The other priest knelt next to a person lying unmoving on the ground.

Grug stepped toward the men. Tina started to follow but stopped abruptly. The man lying facedown on the ground was bald, his head twisted to the side. She saw a glimpse of a dark red beard. Blood pooled around his waist. Much of his clothing that had been soaked red with the scarlet liquid. Tina also saw a large gash on his left arm, a familiar dagger clutched tightly in the left hand.

It was her father.

His chest wasn't moving, and the crouched priest closed her father's eyes with a hand.

The world froze into that single image before her. Tina felt a storm of emotions roiling inside her. She couldn't move.

Shock. Disbelief. That isn't my father. Grief. Disbelief. That isn't him. Despair. Disbelief. It can't be him! Panic. Disbelief …

Something snapped inside her.

"No!"

She felt a wave of nausea. Tina bent over and vomited. The contents of her stomach flooded out in searing, throat burning pain and splashed onto the ground.

She stared at the mess in front of her. Someone was patting her on the back.

"I'm so very sorry. We did all we could. But he was already all but gone when we found him."

Tina looked up with blank eyes. One of the priests had his hand on her back. His robes seemed somehow too bright in the light of the lanterns.

After a moment of consideration, Tina realized she wasn't sad. She wasn't angry. She wasn't anything. Into that numbness she smiled. She didn't know why.

The priest stepped back abruptly, surprised by Tina's expression. Straightening up, she wiped her mouth with her sleeve.

She looked back down at the body on the ground. She didn't recognize it. She felt no sense of identification when looking at that still form. And she felt nothing when looking at the priests. Or all the people standing around her. In fact, she felt nothing at all.

Tina turned and pushed her way through the crowd.

This was the last time anyone in Midfield ever saw the girl. Tina, who they all knew. Tina, who all liked. The pub keeper's girl, Tina.