Page 86 of Paladin's Hope

“A gnole is not made of straw and bird-bones.” Earstripe rolled his eyes at Galen. “Do all healers act this way? Gnole, human, all the same.”

“All the ones I’ve met,” said Galen, squeezing Piper’s hand.

Earstripe seemed far less troubled by his ordeal than Piper had expected. “Quiet cell,” he said cheerfully. “Dark. A gnole caught up on sleep. Not as good as a burrow, but not bad.” His crutch had vanished somewhere, but one of the waiting gnoles moved to act as a brace if he needed it. Piper tried not to fret.

Galen explained what happened and what they had learned from Mallory and Tamsin. Earstripe listened soberly, his ears intent, not flicking aside to catch the sounds of the city. “A gnole would like to be surprised,” he said finally. “But a gnole is not. Not really.”

“I’m sorry,” said Piper. He wanted to apologize for all humans everywhere, even knowing how foolish and futile and self-centered it was, but it would do no good. And what right do I have to inflict my need for absolution on him? “What can we do?”

“A gnole is free. Bone-doctor has done more than gnoles could have done.”

“Based on the message I got from Skull-of-Ice, I didn’t dare fail,” said Piper dryly. “I was afraid ours would have my skull on a pike.”

“Nah, nah,” one of their gnole escort piped up. “Pike is fish, yes? Gnole burrow hangs from posts, put light in skull.”

“Very decorative,” said the other.

All three gnoles laughed rather more than the joke seemed to warrant. Piper wondered if there was more to it in gnolespeech. I absolutely must find a dictionary. Tomorrow.

Earstripe’s own story was much shorter. “Guard-humans come to outside burrow. Humans come, tell us guard-humans are there. A gnole goes out to meet them. Was a guard-gnole, yes, should know how to talk to guard-humans. Guard-humans say a gnole comes with them, guard has inquiries.” He lifted his lip to show one fang. “A gnole remembers what inquiries involved. But humans from near burrow are there, so guard-humans do nothing. Not so bad.”

Piper remembered the armed trio who had warned them away from the gnole warren before, and suspected that they might well have saved Earstripe from some casual violence. He grimaced. It had been too damn close. And what might have happened to him if he’d sat in that cell too long? Or if the guard on duty had been a little less professional?

“We were lucky,” he said.

“A gnole is lucky in his friends,” said Earstripe. He glanced at Piper and Galen’s hands. “Glad friends have stopped twisting their whiskers, too.”

“Yes, well.” Galen ducked his head. “What can I say? I can’t smell.”

The gnoles thought that was hilarious as well.

On the far side of the river, they stopped. “A gnole thinks perhaps gnoles go alone,” said Earstripe. “Too many guard-humans lately. Some gnoles nervous, yes?”

“Completely understandable. Please give Skull-of-Ice my regards. Or…err…whatever is polite there.” Piper coughed. “Ours scares me a little.”

“Human really can’t smell if ours only scares him a little.”

“Please let the Temple of the Rat know if we can help in any way,” said Stephen gravely. “Gnoles are part of the city and if they have a problem with the guard, the Rat will do their best to solve it.”

“Mmm.” Earstripe flicked his whiskers. “A gnole was a solution. See how well that worked! But a gnole understands.” He looked at Piper. “Skull-of-Ice said our gnole would call on a doctor, look at dead humans, understand how humans work. Maybe start there, eh?”

Piper wasn’t sure if human corpses were the best place to start negotiations with another species, but it was what he had to work with. Couldn’t be any worse, anyway. At least nothing hurts the dead overmuch. “Ours is welcome at any time.”

The gnole nodded. And then the three of them melted into the shadows and left the humans standing alone beside the river.

“Well,” said Galen, and sighed from his toes.

“Well,” said Piper.

They were still holding hands. Piper looked down at their clasped fingers, then up at Galen. Brown eyes met green and held for a long, long time.

“Now this architecture,” said Stephen, rather loudly, “is a style that doesn’t really have a name, but I suspect we will end up calling it something like “Post-Flood Revival,” and seems to be characterized by—”

“Stephen, I am going to make you eat that architecture.”

“Fine, fine.” The tall paladin held up his hands. “I think I’ll be heading home, then. It has been a very long, if ultimately productive day.” He glanced between the two. “I’ll leave you to escort the doctor home, shall I?”

“Yes,” said Piper, still looking into Galen’s eyes. “I think that would be for the best.”

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