Common Clay

Over the next three days, Clay helped out around his family’s farm and made the long walk in to the village through the continued rain. He didn’t mind helping with the usual chores—if anything, it was a welcome break from having to clear the field and hunt monsters in the forest—but he did wonder if an entire host of nightmares was going to be waiting for him when he got back. It was all too easy to imagine that a mantrap would sneak a burrow into his field while he was away, just to surprise him at an inopportune moment.

Still, at the very least, he could spend time learning more about the various monsters of the world. Olivia patiently endured his presence for part of the day while the rain lasted, translating for him out of the old adventurer’s book. She even found a handful of other books on the subject of monsters, though they were just as sparse on the information as the first had been. None of the books were written in plain language, but she seemed to have an infinite amount of experience with the older tongues.

He'd started his own transcription of the journals, but Olivia had endured his sloppy penmanship for all of ten minutes before stealing the quill from him and doing it on her own. Her neat, legible writing soon covered half a dozen bits of parchment that he’d pried loose from Adam over those three days, in exchange for a copper piece and a few favors-to-be-mentioned in the future.

There was at least one bit of scribework that he held back for himself, though. Clay only worked on it when the rest of the family was asleep, knowing the trouble it would cause if his mother or father caught him at it. He wrote down what he’d seen of the monsters so far, adding his own notes to Olivia’s far cleaner writing. If the things eventually got him, he wanted to leave the village with a far better idea of how to fight the creatures than the few hints tucked away inside the old books.

When he woke on the fourth day, the rain had finally ceased, and he headed back to the field. His father lent him a small cart, which he dragged along behind him to the village. From there, he visited the fletcher, the smithy, and Adam’s store, and then pushed his newly laden cart all the way out to the farmhouse.

He found it in much the same state he left it. The weeds and thorns had grown a little larger in his absence, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as when he had started. When he pushed his cart up to the doorstep, he found plenty of evidence that water had leaked into the building, but he was sure that Adam had given him enough material to fix what was left of the roof.

Clay spent the next few hours unloading his cart and putting the materials to work. It took some time to find a place where he could place his bedroll that wasn’t waterlogged or stained from the rain. Breaking out the rotten, useless pieces of the roof took some time as well, though it was satisfying to toss the pieces out into the wild patches of the field. He dragged the broad wooden shingles up on top of the low roof. Fortunately, the beams that supported the roof were still solid, so he could pound them into place without issue. After that, he dragged a few small boxes of food and other furnishings inside, cleared a few more bits of rubble from the building, and hammered the door into place.

Once done, he sat on the front step of his new home and ate a meal of hard bread, beans, and cheese, scraping up every last piece of it. Once that was done, he went back to the cart and hauled out a few more things. His bow and quiver, along with the sling and pouch of stones. The axe came next, destined for the belt loop in case all else failed.

Finally, Clay hefted his new spear, a definite improvement over the simple pitchfork. It had a broad blade, tapering to a lethal point. Just behind that blade, it had a pair of wings that would act as a guard, preventing whatever he struck from lunging up the shaft towards him. The shaft of the spear was made of solid oak, the kind of wood that felt like someone had carved it out of the bones of the earth. He hefted it a bit, feeling the difference in weight. Maybe he’d be a bit more tired, carrying it around, but it was better to be tired than to have the thing snap at the wrong moment.

His equipment ready, he turned to face the Tanglewood and paused. It seemed different today. Still dangerous, still a threat to his home, but not as unfamiliar and strange. Clay knew more about what he was facing now. He only hoped that there wouldn’t be more surprises waiting for him within.

Of course, there was only one way to find out if there was.

{Mantrap Spiderling slain! Soul increases by 5}

Clay stared down at the dead monster, his brand-new boar spear stuck directly between its head and its body. The tip had cracked straight through the armored carapace, and the book’s suggestion had been perfect; the monster hadn’t even had the chance to scream when it had popped out of the hole, chasing a rock.

The problem was he’d been expecting his Soul to increase by twice as much. He’d been counting on it, really, since that would probably have earned him his first level before the end of the day.

After all, the Tanglewood had been generous with its surprises today. There had been a troll spider waiting for him just ten minutes into the woods; it had given itself away by shifting, just slightly, when the wind had blown. A well-thrown slingstone had broken its front leg, leaving it snared in its own web once it dropped. His broadhead arrow had taken it in a bulbous eye a moment later.

The second troll spider had been waiting a few dozen yards from the first. He might have been surprised by the fact that it hadn’t come to its fellow monster’s aid, but Clay suspected the creatures weren’t exactly sympathetic to each other. Besides, the thing had caught a rabbit in its net. It had been too late to save the thing; the hare was fully cocooned in web, and likely suffocated before he even reached the spot. The monster that had killed it was too busy continuing its wrapping to notice when Clay stole up behind it and put an arrow into its back. It was still thrashing in the leaves when he charged in and put the spear through its relatively soft belly.

Both monsters had given him an increase of ten Soul each. Why had the mantrap been different?

Shaking his head, he freed his spear and cleaned the ichor from it with a cloth. The thing had been hiding in the same exact hole as his very first kill, something that he was coming to recognize as an inherent weakness of the things. He’d have to check both of the other holes to see if they had new occupants as well.

It took him another hour of careful creeping through the Tanglewood. He was now more wary than ever of the ground and sky, hoping against hope that his next step wouldn’t bring a mature troll spider crashing through the branches towards him. He doubted that the bigger spiders had taken notice of him yet, but if they had, it was going to be an uglier day than he had hoped for.

When he reached the second hole, he performed the same trick. First, he threw a rock out in front, confirming the thing was inside. When it snatched it, he padded forward, deliberately coming up on the lid from behind. Once the hole was in striking distance, he tossed another rock up in the air, set his hands on the boar spear’s haft, and waited.

The rock came down, bounced along the forest floor, and the mantrap came hurtling out of its hole to strike. Clay moved the instant he saw the lid opening, driving the spear down towards the back of the spider’s skull. It twitched once as his shadow fell over it, as if trying to pull back into its hole, but it was far too late. He drove the point in, wrenched the spear to the side, and waited for the thrashing to stop.

{Mantrap Spiderling slain! Soul increases by 5}

Well, obviously, something had changed. What was different? And why was he still getting ten from the troll spiders?

He thought back over his work the past two weeks. The technique he was using to kill the things was different, but that shouldn’t matter. He’d used new strategies against the troll spiders, too, and that hadn’t changed the amount he received. What else was different?

Clay shook his head and started for the third mantrap hole. He’d at least get rid of another one before he finished for the day. Surely killing five monsters was worth something, even if it didn’t give him quite as much as he wanted. His thoughts kept going back over the differences, though. Was it that he wasn’t as much at risk anymore? If that was the case, maybe less growth was better, as long as he didn’t expose himself more. It was easier to level if a person wasn’t dead, after all.

His distraction almost cost him his life twenty minutes later as he maneuvered around a small tree. He had looked up to make sure there were no troll spiders lurking and had taken a step forward before he examined the ground in front of him.

Clay caught sight of the mantrap lid just a fraction of a second before the thing burst out of it towards him. He frantically brought the spear up and around, getting it into position just in time. The spider came out of the burrow with fangs ready to strike, slamming its armored skull against his spearpoint.

It was more fortune than anything that the tip caught it between the mandibles. The mantrap hissed and spit at him, its legs trying to drive it forward as Clay pushed to keep it back. To his relief, the crossguard just behind the spearpoint easily earned its worth, making sure those sharp legs stayed far from him. Eventually, he shoved it to the side and onto its back, where he could pull his axe and strike at it.

A few moments later, it went still, even as he was gasping for breath beside it.

{Mantrap Spiderling slain! Soul increases by 5}

It brought him to ninety-five. The thing had nearly killed him, and had been just as dangerous as any of the others he’d killed at first, and it still only gave him half as much. Clay tried to catch his breath and then kicked at the corpse in spite. A part of him wanted to curse the whole system and go back to his farmhouse, where he was mostly sure there weren’t any monsters waiting to kill him.

He was too close to give up now, though. Clay gritted his teeth and then stood up. There was still another hole he could check, and even with the lower rewards, he’d finally gain that next level. Just one more spider, and he could call it a day.

Slowly, still shaking a bit from the rush of the fight, he pushed himself to his feet. It took a few moments more to clean his axe and spear, and to tidy up a few bits of ichor that had stained his clothes. Then he was off into the Tanglewood again, eyes searching far more carefully now. Distraction had a price here; he could wait for the next time rain came to analyze things. The worst thing that could happen then would be a lecture from Olivia, or a bucket of spilt milk.

Setting aside his own recriminations, he continued his journey, even as a breeze sighed through the trees around him.

{Mantrap Spiderling slain! Soul increases by 5}

{Commoner reaches Level 2!}

{Maximum level for all Stats is now 17!}

{Experience gained (Slayer: Gain 10% bonus to all skills when hunting monsters.)}

{Experience gained (Forrester: Gain 5% bonus to all skills inside of a forested area. Gain extra 15% bonus to the Tracking skill in a forested area.)}

Clay studied the notifications, even as he pulled the spear out of the spider. It had been waiting in the hole where he had expected it, and this time he’d come up on it from behind. There had been significantly less danger in killing it.

He cleaned the spearpoint idly, thinking over what the [Gift] was telling him. Clay knew that [Classes] could gain improvements to the [Stats] and [Experiences] with levels, but he’d never heard of a [Class] where all the [Stats] improved at once. He’d also thought that each level only granted a single new [Experience] each time. Maybe he’d heard it wrong? It wasn’t like Pellsglade was a haven of knowledge about adventurers.

All the same, it was hard to complain about what he’d received. Clay could already feel the effects of [Forrester] kicking in; the trees of the Tanglewood seemed far less dangerous, and he felt…stronger somehow. He could only imagine how much easier that would make hunting down these abominations.

There was some temptation to continue the hunt, but he’d already killed six spiders today. He could only push his fortune so far, and Clay was starting to suspect that the deeper he pushed into the forest, the closer he would get to the Lair the book had mentioned—as well as the larger versions of those things. Better to save that for another day.

Feeling tired, yet victorious, Clay turned towards home. It would take him at least an hour, but at least he was going home different from what he had been coming in. Tomorrow would be a brand-new day.

The morning dawned bright and early, and Clay found himself rolled into his bedding like it was a cocoon. His body felt sore and worn, but he forced himself up. He wouldn’t have breakfast prepared for him, now. If he wanted food, he’d have to make it himself.

Hunger was a wonderful motivator, and soon he was stretching his sore muscles as the fire licked its way to life in the fireplace. After a few frustrating attempts, he warmed himself a pot of simple gruel. Normally it wouldn’t have been the best of meals, but the vacant hole that appeared to dominate his gut made it seem absolutely delicious.

Once he was full, he started in on the morning chores. There weren’t many of them, thanks to the lack of animals, furniture, or generally anything at all. He mainly spent the time organizing his few possessions and making his plans for the day.

Then, with the sun still barely risen and his muscles still mildly sore from his work the day before, he began his work on the field. Tired as he was, Clay felt far better than he had the previous week or so. Skipping the hour-long walk from his father’s house gave him both strength and time, and Clay had no intention of wasting either.

The bonus from [Laborer] once again made itself felt as he went to work with the sickle and axe, clearing a steadily widening space around his farmhouse. He thought he’d seen a sign of a well the day before, buried within the carpet of vegetation, and he hoped to cut his way to it now. Boiling water from the creek to drink was fine, but he didn’t want to need to walk for half an hour to fill a bucket. Of course, he didn’t know how much he’d be able to trust an abandoned well, but it would probably be better than a creek flowing from the Tanglewood.

Clay worked for most of the morning, putting in nearly six hours of work clearing the land in careful, steady labor. He cut down patches of thorns, carefully stacking them with the weeds he’d pulled. Then he started a small fire, and slowly fed the debris into it as he worked, letting the flame turn it into ash. When he reached a larger obstacle, like a tree, he laid into it with an axe, felling it. They were all young growth, so none of them took too long. Even the green wood went into the fire, though. Occasionally, he set some kindling aside to feed his cookfires later.

By the time the sun had risen towards noon, he took a moment to stagger back to his house and eat. It took a few moments to roll together a bit of flour and water, giving him a rough roll to cook on the hearth. He ate it with a bit of salted pork his father had sent along, washing it down with water he had boiled that morning.

With a decent amount of work done, Clay turned his attention back to the Tanglewood. He knew the monsters were waiting there, and if he was honest, he’d rather spend the afternoon amidst the branches compared to the evening. Less chance of being caught there as the daylight faded, and it would give him the chance to eat at home, anyway. With a sigh, he pushed himself up and gathered his weapons. It was time to kill monsters again.

The moment he entered the Tanglewood, Clay could sense the difference.

It was as if the world had grown brighter. His fatigue from the morning work faded quickly, as if washed away by the forest breeze. He noticed details that would have passed him by before, from the way the leaves had been disturbed to the way the wind moved through the trees. Simply put, it was as if he felt more awake, more alive than he had for as long as he could remember. In a way, he felt as if he belonged in the Tanglewood, monsters or no.

Slightly off balance, Clay grew worried that he would miss some sign of the spiders. Would he grow so distracted with all the new details that [Forrester] was showing him that he would end up wandering under a troll spider’s perch, or step in front of a mantrap’s hole? The differences in how he perceived the world made him paranoid and twitchy, willing to leap away from anything that stuck out to him in the slightest.

He needn’t have worried, however. When he came across the first troll spider, hanging from the branches of an oak tree, the thing stuck out to him as if someone had painted it red. Clay practically stared at it in bafflement, wondering if it was simply a slow example of its kind. When he brought it down, it seemed to die quickly, as if the stones from his sling had hit harder.

{Troll Spiderling slain! Soul increases by 10}

The notice was as confusing as it was reassuring. He had no idea what the difference was between the troll spiders and the mantrap versions, but at least the former was still giving him the rewards he expected. Perhaps it had something to do with their underlying power?

Even as he thought it, the idea seemed wrong. Both spiders were dangerous under the right circumstances. Now that he thought about it, though, most of the threat came from their ability to ambush a victim. Without it, they were far less of a nightmare than they had been.

Frowning, he looked up into the trees, searching the branches. He didn’t see another spider…but he saw the signs the one he had killed left behind. Scrapes along tree bark, snapped twigs, torn leaves. Clay could even pick out the wisps of spiderweb the thing had left.

A smile worked its way across his lips. He could track them now. No more ambushes from nowhere. No more walks full of horror through the Tanglewood. He would be on even terms with the monsters now.

Maybe they would even learn to fear him soon.

{Mantrap Spiderling slain! Soul increases by 5}

{Achievement Unlocked! Spiderbane: 5% increase to all skills and damage against spiders. Bonus increases to 10% versus Mantrap Spiderlings.}

Clay pulled his spear free of his latest victim and studied the announcement with surprise. He’d been expecting nothing more than the same death announcement, but he’d never heard of an [Achievement] before. Was this something all adventurers received?

Idly cleaning off the end of his spear, he thought over his next move. The mantraps weren’t as important now, with their relative lack of reward, but the bonuses were too tempting to ignore.

He looked from side to side, his newly increased abilities picking out details he had never noticed before. There were scrapes in the dirt, overturned rocks, something that traced out a distinct trail the deceased mantrap had left on its journey to the burrow.

Curious, he followed the trail. Maybe it would lead back to something worthwhile.

To his surprise, the traces were fairly easy to follow, even though he continued to search for signs of other mantraps or troll spiders lying in wait. They led him a little deeper into the forest, where they crossed paths with another trail of scrapes and traces. He turned back along that track, and a handful of minutes later, he reached another mantrap burrow.

He paused, shaking his head in amazement. Between the [Spiderbane] bonuses and the benefits of [Forrester] and [Slayer], the concealed burrow almost seemed to leap out at him. It was going to be entirely too easy for him to find the monsters now.

Spear in hand, he crept up on the spot, pausing only to pick up a decently sized stick. He hefted it into the air, getting his hand back on the spear with plenty of time before it came down. Then he waited for it to hit.

The mantrap launched itself to strike, just as all of its fellows had before, but this time it seemed to almost be moving in slow motion. Clay struck it before it could even react, piercing the iron-hard exterior and twisting the weapon in a practiced motion. Then he pulled it out with something like a flourish. His prey thrashed for a few moments and then lay still.

{Mantrap Spiderling slain!}

He waited for another moment before realization dawned. The thing was dead, but he’d gotten nothing for killing it. Why?

His mind raced back over his memories of the past few kills. He hadn’t done anything different, but things had changed. Was it the [Achievement]? Did that mean he would only ever get Soul from new enemies?

Something about that idea held a germ of truth. Thinking back over the past two weeks, he dimly realized that he’d killed far more mantrap spiderlings than he had troll spiderlings. In fact, this creature was the eleventh of its kind that he’d put down…and the mantraps had given him less Soul after he’d killed five. Did that mean he would start getting less Soul for the troll spiderlings too once he killed his sixth? Would they stop giving him anything after the tenth one, too?

If so, then his plans had run into a major problem. He couldn’t just keep killing these minor enemies to increase his level anymore. To keep improving, he would need new foes…perhaps even tougher ones than the ones he faced now. The wandering nature of the adventurers of the Kingdom now suddenly made sense. They gained nothing simply sitting in place and killing the same monsters over and over again. If they wanted to improve, they would have to wander the world, gaining what they could from what they encountered.

Unfortunately, that would not be an option for him. Clay was a [Commoner] of Pellsglade; no one was going to sponsor him to travel the world and fight all kinds of creatures. So either he was going to have to come up with a way to face the greater monsters of the Tanglewood, or he was going to need to be content at the level he’d already gained.

Clay grimaced. Neither option seemed appealing, but maybe there was some other way out of the situation. Either way, the area needed to be cleared of monsters again. He wasn’t going to allow them to creep any closer to his house, or to Pellsglade itself. Soul gain or not, he’d kill every last one of the things he could.

At least the bonuses were going to make it that much easier.

Clay spent another three hours in the Tanglewood, growing more and more adjusted to his new preternatural senses and abilities. Another three mantrap spiderlings died, none of whom had any real chance against his abilities now that he could find their burrows with ease. He tracked down two more troll spiderlings as well, and sure enough, the last one only gave him an increase of five Soul.

As he left the Tanglewood, he examined his [Gift] again, considering his next course of action. The decrease in Soul meant he’d only be able to get another twenty Soul from the troll spiderlings before they stopped giving him any kind of increase at all, which meant he’d fall well short of the two hundred required to advance to level three.

So, he’d need to track down and fight the more advanced versions of the monsters he’d already been killing. Clay shivered slightly as he came out into the sunlight; the warmth of the afternoon sun was nothing beside the chilling prospect of facing one of those larger abominations. True, they might not be able to ambush him as easily as their smaller variants, but what did that matter if they were so much bigger, stronger, and tougher than he was?

That thought made him frown slightly. He’d been so focused on gaining Soul that perhaps he had been ignoring other possibilities. After all, he hadn’t focused enough on gaining new [Stats] in a while, so perhaps that would be a good way to prepare. Maybe he’d find more clues in the books with Olivia as well, if the Rector didn’t get sick of him distracting her.

Clay nodded to himself. Perhaps he’d finish killing enough of the troll spiderlings to exhaust their usefulness and then focus on gaining enough [Might] and [Fortitude] to stand up against something larger and deadlier. It seemed like a good enough plan for now, and he was fairly confident he could keep the numbers of the smaller monsters down with what he could do currently. There was more than enough time to work out his next step.

Satisfied, he came back to the farmhouse and set aside his hunting tools. Taking up the shovel and axe, he made his way to a stump still standing in the yard. Monsters or not, he had plenty of work left to do.

{Troll Spiderling slain! Soul increases by 5}

{Achievement Reinforced! Spiderbane: 10% increase to all skills and damage against spiders. Bonus increases to 20% versus Mantrap Spiderlings and Troll Spiderlings.}

{Insight increases by 1!}

Clay regarded the message with some satisfaction. A short distance away, the troll spiderling he’d killed lay still. It hadn’t even seen him coming, and neither had the previous three that day. He could only assume that would get even easier now with the bonuses from [Spiderbane]. Given how quickly he’d been able to find and dispatch half a dozen mantrap spiderlings before the bonus had increased, he could imagine it would be nearly child’s play now.

Unfortunately, he’d confirmed by killing those spiderlings that personal satisfaction was all he was going to get from wiping them out. There were no other Soul rewards, and now that he’d finished off his tenth troll spiderling, he wouldn’t get anything more from them either. [Spiderbane] would be somewhat helpful, but until he found and killed something more deadly than spiderlings, he was officially done growing.

He grunted in irritation and stomped over to recover his arrow. The day was still relatively new; the sun shining through the leaves told him he’d only been in the Tanglewood for a couple of hours. If he started for home, he’d be back with easily enough time to finish clearing the portion of the field he’d started that day. Alternatively, he could continue his work in the Tanglewood for some time more, killing whatever monsters he came across.

The temptation was there, but he knew he needed time to prepare before he ran into something bigger. Clay turned for home, making his way through the forest easily even without the bonuses from [Slayer]. Clearly, [Forrester] was going to be his greatest asset from now on. He just hoped that he could come up with some kind of plan before he ran into whatever the next challenge was.

“It finally looks like you’ve made some progress! Well done, son!”

Clay smiled at his father, trying to ignore the sheer exhaustion he felt. He’d definitely made progress on the fields, sure, but it was a long way from being done, and most of it had been due to his new work schedule.

He worked from sunup to sundown every single day, now. Aside from a short, hour-long break which he used to make sure that the monsters of Tanglewood were being trimmed back, he spent nearly all the rest of his time cutting, pulling, digging and burning the mess that the farm’s previous owners had left behind. Clay had been deliberately making things harder on himself, as well, forcing himself to go longer without breaks or water, and carrying far more than was reasonable.

As a result, he was exhausted, sore, and barely awake on his feet—but both [Might] and [Fortitude] had gone up by two, and [Will] had gone up by another one as well. It wasn’t a bad reward for two and a half days of work, and he figured that one more day would bring his physical attributes to his current maximum, anyway. It probably wasn’t nearly as good as something a [Paladin] or [Fighter] would have, but he wouldn’t be ungrateful for that extra strength in the future.

Of course, his father was a bit too busy enthusing over all the progress he’d made to sympathize with him. He’d laughed a little when Clay had complained, and told him to get used to being a farmer. His mother, on the other hand, was a bit more concerned. She hovered over him, her eyes anxious. “Don’t push yourself too hard, son. Our farm wasn’t cleared in a day.”

“True enough, but he needs enough space to get some planting in. The baron’s not going to keep paying his way for long.” Sam looked back at him with a proud smile. “I’ll lend you the seed, though. No need to go to Adam for that sort of thing. What are you hoping to get in? Beans? Wheat?”

“Beans, I guess? I haven’t thought that much about it.” The confession made his father’s expression darken a little; if there was one thing that could ruin Sam Evergreen’s mood, it was someone not taking the future seriously. If there were two things, it would be seeing someone ruin a nice piece of land by ‘messing about’, as he put it. “I was thinking of taking a look at the soil once I got it a bit more cleared out before I made any final decisions. What do you think?”

Sam’s expression eased up, looking a little less like an approaching thunderhead. He glanced out over the cleared part of the field where Will and the other kids were chasing each other around the space. “I’d need to get closer to see for sure. Maybe smell it a bit, see what kind of water you’re getting…” His father’s fingers twitched, as if he wanted to get out there and start combing through the dirt already.

Clay gave him a grin. “Well, don’t let me stop you. Go on and check. I’m just a [Laborer] after all; I need the advice of a [Farmer] at some point.”

His father gave him a very level look, but he couldn’t help the answering grin that broke out on his face. “All right, since you asked so sweetly. Wouldn’t want to let down my eldest son, after all.” Hands stuffed into his pockets, his father ambled out into the cleared area, already kicking up the occasional clod to see what critters might have burrowed underneath. A part of Clay cringed to see it, but he knew that the only thing Sam might find in the field were worms and ants, not mantraps. He forced himself to relax.

His mother chuckled as she watched him go. When Clay looked over at him, she shook her head. “That man is never more happy than when he has his hands in the dirt. The gods chose well when they made him a [Farmer].”

Clay tried not to grimace at the mention of the gods and managed to contain it with a tight smile. “I’d say so. I’m sure he’ll have some good advice for me.” He looked out again over the field, watching his brothers and sisters play. They’d been given the afternoon off, so that his family could drop by and check up on him. The pretense had been that Clay hadn’t returned the handcart yet, but he was sure the real reason was that his parents were worried about him. They had better cause for concern than they actually knew, but Clay still felt touched by their care.

“He really is proud of you, you know.” Amelia’s expression was warm with affection still, but she turned a more serious look on him. “You’re his eldest, and I know you always dreamed of more, but it means the world to him that you’re here. It isn’t the easiest place, but he knows you are doing your best.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “I thought he thought I was slacking off?”

“Moping, more like.” She softened the accusation with a small smile. “You aren’t the only one who has lost dreams along the way, son. Your father and I, we know what that is like, and what it can do to a person, especially when they’re young.” When his mother looked back at the children, and her smile grew. “Over time, you might find your dreams can change, though, and what grows up to fill them is better than what you could have imagined on your own.”

The implications were clear, and Clay sighed. He didn’t blame her perspective, but he had no intention of settling down to till the land all his life. Maybe that was the dream she and his father had settled into, but he wasn’t done trying for something more yet.

He didn’t say any of that to his mother, though; it would only worry her. Instead, he forced himself to sit up straighter, groaning a little as the muscles along his shoulders complained. “And how are things at home? Have you guys been missing me yet?”

“A little, I suppose. The cows might be glad for some gentler hands, but the outhouse has needed a thorough cleaning.” Her tone kept the words light, and he laughed despite himself.

“I see. I guess I should be glad I’m out here, then. No cows to speak of, at least.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence for a moment, watching his father crouch down to pick at the soil. Will came over immediately, always the one most interested in farmwork, while Amy and Saphy continued to chase each other about. Young Finn simply picked up a stick and began to beat at the nearest weeds with it; maybe he thought he was helping. Perhaps he was.

For that moment, Clay felt at peace. His family was happy; his parents were proud, and his siblings were safe. Tired as he was, things were going fine on the farm, and he had every confidence that he’d have a decent patch ready for planting by the following spring. Fall would make it easier to root up and kill all the weeds, after all, and he didn’t think anyone would expect him to make it happen any sooner than that.

Then his eyes lifted a little, and the shadows of the Tanglewood filled his vision. Even now that he had slaughtered nearly two dozen of the monsters inside, the place oozed malice. Clay felt himself tense slightly as he remembered the terrors within. He promised himself yet again that he would never let those things touch any of his family. Not now, and never again in the future.

It would mean doing more than simply fighting monsters, he knew. He’d have to find a way to destroy them at their source. Maybe once he had hunted them all down, then he wouldn’t have to worry about them attacking his home ever again.

His mother apparently hadn’t noticed the grim mood settle over him. She was watching the kids intently. A little too intently, in fact, as if she was trying to avoid his attention. “So, I heard that you’ve been visiting the shrine in town.”

Alarm bells rang in Clay’s head. Her tone was far too casual. Almost deliberately neutral somehow. “Yeah. I’ve been trying to catch up on my reading a bit more.” Best if he didn’t mention what he’d been reading about, of course. Hopefully, she didn’t already know.

“That is what I heard, yes.” Her voice was still far too casual for his tastes. She was definitely up to something. “What was the name of that girl they have working there? Olivia?”

He didn’t quite repress a groan. Clay put both his hands over his eyes. “Yeah, that’s her name.”

“She seems like a nice enough girl. The Rector thinks she’ll be made a [Scribe], actually. Not a bad person to get to know.”

Clay felt his face grow hot. Clearly, she thought she was a master of subtlety. Also, a matchmaker of some kind. “She’s a very nice girl, but I was just there to read, Mom.”

“Sure, sure, nothing wrong with doing some browsing.” Her voice held so much mischief that he half wanted to laugh along with her. The other half of him wanted to run out into the Tanglewood and kill something.

He gave her a look that he hoped seemed serious. “I don’t think she’d want anyone starting any rumors about her, Mom. She probably has enough to deal with from the Rector, anyway.”

“Oh, I’d never do anything like that. You know me.” He did, and she gossiped like a fish drank water. It was one of her few faults, but he supposed a [Scribe] working on a farm had to entertain themselves somehow. “And anyway, I don’t see anything wrong with you two getting to know one another better. After all, she’s only a few months from her own Choosing day, and I hate to think of you being so alone out here.”

“I’m fine, Mom. Really.” He reached over and gave her a one-armed hug. She sighed a little, and he continued. “The only thing I’m missing is your cooking, honestly. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to make eggs the way you do.”

“Of course not. Amateurs have no place in the kitchen.” She sniffed haughtily and then laughed. Amelia stood up, brushing her hands on her skirt. “Well, if you get too hungry, you know where to find us. Let me see if I can corral everyone into going home before one of your brothers runs off into the Tanglewood. Maybe I can keep your father from deciding which names your worms should have.”

Clay laughed, and she walked over to where Will and Sam were both still crouched. Saphy and Amy finally gave up on their game and wandered over as well, and soon even Finn had given up his attempt to cut down the sablethorn bush to join them. He watched them, quietly content, for a while longer.

Then he reached over and picked up his scythe. The Tanglewood was waiting for him, and he never knew how much time he had before life threw something new at him.