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Roy lowered himself down onto a blanket spread on the sandy beach just south of Riker’s Cove. The sun was setting but he felt wide awake. After spending an entire night in Heinrich von Nighburg’s shallowing that felt like only two or three hours the people who entered the lighthouse took some time to sleep and recover from their exertions. The next day Roy and Johan went back up to retrieve the steel frame of the wizard’s mirror.

They offered part of it to the Fairchilds but, as Cassie candidly told them, her quest was to find a way to make steel not just grab some of the metal for themselves. Other than that, the first half of that day was spent pursuing their own ends. Roy sent to Oakheart Manor to see if there was any new business he’d have to attend to before they left. The Fairchilds found The Strongest Man and followed him about for a change. Proud Elk and Johan spent time making their own arrangements to leave town and Samson Riker enjoyed seeing his daughter for the first time in months.

They all came together again for the funeral. Hank and Chester Tanner had both died in the last few days and after some deliberation the Hearth Keepers had decided to give them a dual funeral on the beach rather than separate funerals in the town Hearthfire’s cramped crematorium. Roy did his duty and placed timber for Chester. He hadn’t known the boy at all so he refrained from visiting that funeral at all. Sooner of later he’d have to tell Chester’s sister his last words but the moment didn’t seem right.

Now it felt like all his responsibilities were in hand for the moment. He just had to wait for the sky train the next day and he could be on his way. There was just one problem and his name was Nighburg.

“He’s not dead,” Roy said.

“No, he’s not.” The Strongest Man in the World sat down next to him, legs crossed in the Sanna style, adjusting his tachi higher so it would not get in his way. “That’s his way, I’m afraid. He’s very good at last minute escapes and planning for his own failures. I prefer it that way, actually.”

“Oh?”

“You’ve seen what he accomplished here. Do you really want to see what he’s like when his back is against the wall and he has no way out? I don’t.”

“I thought you were the strongest in the world.”

He chuckled. “The Sanna call me that and maybe, in the past, I would have agreed with them.”

“How about now?”

“The only thing more foolish than thinking you can recognize the strongest in the world is thinking you are him. Far be it from me to try and dissuade a fool from his folly.”

Roy watched the waves for a moment in silence. “Why are you here?”

“Longstanding grudge with the man in question. Interested in the story?”

“Not what I mean, browncoat.” Roy leaned back against a chunk of worn stone half buried in the sand. “How did you know von Nighburg was here? I didn’t look for you and I’m pretty sure Samson didn’t go looking either.”

“Does it matter?”

“No.” He rolled the word around in his mouth like it had a sour taste. “I suppose it doesn’t.”

“Well as it would happen I was in Hexwood for the funeral of Sam Jenkins a few weeks ago. Saw Tad Heller there. He was about as happy to see me as you were so I told him what brought me to the West and he passed me your message when he got it.”

“Now you’re my problem, eh? So what do I owe you this time?”

“What did you charge the town?”

“I didn’t. I’m here because I owe Jonathan Riker and taking from his town while paying him back doesn’t sit right.”

For the first time since he sat down the Hodekki man turned to look directly at Roy. “What makes you think I’m different?”

“What do you owe Jonathan?”

“The same thing I owe everyone who’s suffered at Heinrich’s hands since he got away from me the first time.” He reached into an inner pocket on his worn coat and removed a bronze plate a few inches square with a strange symbol stamped on it. “Speaking of, if you hear tell of him again I’d appreciate it if you let me know.”

Roy made no move to take the piece of metal. “What was that thing he was tampering with out there?”

“That I don’t know.”

“You got rid of it easily enough.”

“Luck is a part of strength. That said, I have an deep bench of knowledgeable minds I can draw on to figure that out and I’d be happy to share anything I learn with you when next we meet.” He put the plate down between them. “If it makes you feel better you can consider it repayment for informing me of Heinrich’s whereabouts if you meet him again.”

“No. I don’t want to get sucked into keeping score with you. Something tells me that’s a game you’ll always come out ahead on no matter what I do. I think I’ll just avoid von Nighburg in the future.”

A mischievous smile twisted his lips. “I find that hard to believe. When we parted at Tyson’s Run you said something similar about wendigos but that lasted about two weeks from what I’ve heard.” His good humor vanished. “More than that, you’ve glimpsed something that crossed over the horizon, Roy. Then you fought with it. That kind of thing changes a man on a fundamental level. You’re not as firmly rooted here as you were a day ago and that’s going to have consequences down the line. You’ll see things others can’t. Many of those things will take special note of you as well, so even if you wish to avoid them and their servants you may not be able to.”

“You make it sound like I’ve got a price on my head again.”

“It’s worse, in some ways.”

Roy grunted. Dodging Tetzlani firespinners for three years hadn’t exactly been a picnic. Then again it didn’t hold a candle to the trouble von Nighburg had given them over the past few days. “You tell the others about this?”

“You’re the last. I figured you could fend for yourself for a day or so, given all you’ve been up to since the Summer of Snow.” The Strongest Man in the World got to his feet, leaving the metal plate sitting there. “Take care out there, Harper.”

“Wait.”

The Hodekkian paused, one foot forward, already in the process of walking away. “What?”

“Did the Fairchilds ask you anything about steel?”

He chuckled. “That they did, although I’m afraid I don’t have much I can tell them that’s useful. You’re right. My sword is made of steel, perhaps some of the finest you can find anywhere. Unfortunately I’m not a smith. I didn’t have a hand in making it and the secrets of forging any kind of steel are outside my expertise.”

“Dust and ashes,” Roy muttered. “So much for that lead, I suppose. Did you tell them where they could find the person who made it?”

“I’m not sure where he is now, if he’s even alive. If I ever find him again I’ll mention their names to him but I can’t do much more than that.” That time Roy didn’t see fit to stop him as he left. He left in the direction of the graveyard, disappearing from town as abruptly as he’d arrived.

Roy wasn’t the only one watching him go. The sheriff stood a few paces off, arms folded across his chest. “He doesn’t seem as bad as you made him out.”

“Only because you don’t owe him anything. I have two years of debt outstanding and I’m not looking to rack up any more.”

“Two years of what you make? That’s some serious silver.”

“Not how it works.” Roy gingerly picked up the metal slip and tucked it into his jacket pocket. “You don’t look like you were here to talk to him so what can I do for you?”

Avery dropped a sheaf of paper on the ground in the place the Hodekkian’s plate had been a second ago. “I thought you should have this. About three years before the war broke out, while I was still a squire and not a full knight, I went north and fought a Sanna creature with a very similar mode of attack. Much less power but similar feel. I didn’t make the connection at first because von Nighburg had so many other techniques he used. Blighting the cove. Twisting the flesh of children. All outside the kinds of magic Sanna spirits typically use, very Teutonic stuff, pretty disconnected from the mindscape. Point is, I figured you’d want a copy of my notes from them to give context to what we saw when you write up this incident.”

“What makes you think I’ll be writing it up?”

“I’m not stupid, Harper. I saw you transcribing the Journal while you were in the jail a few days back. Didn’t mean much to me at the time but we saw each other’s memories yesterday and I couldn’t help but notice you’ve met Master Oldfathers. That’s when it clicked.” Avery gestured to his notes. “If you’re going to be keeping the Stone Circle’s oldest record of monster hunting up to date then you should have every scrap of information we have on hand. Just because Morainhenge is gone doesn’t mean we’re absolved of our duties.”

“No, I suppose not.” Roy took the papers and thumbed through them, making sure the sheriff’s handwriting was something he could interpret without help, then folded them once and stuck them in his inside pocket. “Have to say I’m a little surprised. I assumed the typical druid would be upset to hear a Columbian Regular inherited one of your old artifacts.”

Avery shoved his hands into his pockets and stared out at the sea. “I’m not happy about it, if it helps. But the tools and armaments from the old Reliquary choose their own users and complaining about their choices never changed them. I’ve just got to assume the Journal picked you for a reason. If I’m being honest, with your reputation I’d be more surprised if it didn’t stick with you given the chance. I hear you kill a new wild beast every couple of months.”

“Not quite, but I’ve certainly seen my share of strange things.”

“How is the old man, anyway? He keeps pretty much out of sight these days. I didn’t even know he was still alive.”

“He’s passed out all the relics and settled down to start something different, I believe. If you want to get in touch I can see if he’s interested but otherwise it’s not my place to give away his home.”

The sheriff shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. I’ve had a lot of time to think over the last decade, Harper, especially since I got here. Riker’s Cove is normally a pretty quiet place, believe it or not. Anyway, a few years back I realized something important. The Stone Circle never lost a war before Morainhenge fell. Arthur established Stonehenge about the same time he was crowned King of Avalon and since then his Knights have taken the lead in making his nation one of the most powerful on Earth. Losing isn’t something we’re used to. We haven’t figured out how to come back from it yet.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to work it out together instead of spreading yourselves to the four corners of Columbia?”

“I think we’ll hit on the solution faster if we aren’t getting under each other’s feet all the time. Even in the old days we worked best alone or in small groups.” Avery shrugged. “Then again, you’re pretty much an initiate to the Circle yourself with that book you’re carrying, do you want to stay here for a while and work on the problem with me?”

Roy laughed. “Touche. I have my own business to attend to and I’m sure that’s true for all you druids as well.”

“Exactly. We’ll get in touch when our duties demand it or we’re drawn to the same purpose or place but that hasn’t happened yet.”

“If it ever does I’m sure Oldfathers will let you know.” Roy got to his feet and offered Avery his hand. “If we don’t meet before that I’ll be sure to find you and say hello. In the mean time, let me know if Riker’s Cove ever needs my help again. I’ll drop by and do what I can.”

The sheriff accepted the offered handshake. “Thank you, Mr. Harper. Coming from you that means a lot.” For a moment it looked like he was going to leave then he stopped himself. “One last thing. What happened to Brennan?”

Roy pursed his lips. He’d kind of hoped Avery wouldn’t bring that up again. “I can’t tell you, Avery. It’d break a lot of promises I made to him and other people. If you’re wondering whether he’s still alive then the answer is no. He lived through the war but died a few years after. To my knowledge he remained dedicated to upholding the trust placed in him as best he could until the end. That’s about all I can tell you, though.”

“Well, I suppose knowing that is better than nothing at all. I suppose I should get back to the funerals, then. If I don’t see you before you leave town, may the Lord watch over all your paths and bring you safely back to your hearthfire.” The sheriff touched the brim of his hat and headed back into town.

“The Lady stoke your flame until you face the winds again, Sheriff.” Alone with this thoughts again, Roy looked back out to sea and settled in to enjoy some much needed solitude.

The sun set and rose once more, another iteration of an eternal cycle. The statue of Jonathan Riker greeted the sunrise with its usual aplomb. It watched as the Sanna man Proud Elk rode out of town bright and early, followed a few hours later by Roy and his party headed to catch the skytrain. The last week had been an eventful one for Riker’s Cove. Strange and horrible things had happened as if they were everyday occurrences but now life was returning to normal.

The statue was unimpressed. It had stood through Low Noon and the twisted time that came with it. The town was still there. The statue would watch it until one of them ceased to exist. But there probably wouldn’t be as much to see around the cove for the next few years. So the statue settled in to wait until the next significant moment it would have to bear witness to. In the meantime, if there was nothing else to do, who was it to complain?

Just a statue. And statues don’t complain, they only keep watch. So that was what it did.