“And that’s the frozen glade,” Elijah said, grinning as he watched the dogs chasing foxes in circles around the Frozen Oak. All except Sophie, who looked on impassively, almost as if she disapproved of her packmates’ antics. Perhaps she did. Either way, it was clear that none of the dogs really wanted to catch the other animals. They were just playing.

He hoped the foxes realized that. They were at a distinct disadvantage, given that they weren’t technically guardians yet. Perhaps they never would be. Elijah wasn’t certain how all of that worked, but he expected that just being so close to the grove was the best situation for any animal.

Glancing at Oscar, he asked, “They’re not going to get too rough, are they? I like those foxes.”

And he felt certain that if something bad happened to them, he’d one day have to answer to their mother. He didn’t want that – not one little bit.

Oscar answered, “They’re fine. They play with children every time I go into a new settlement. They know how to control themselves.”

Sophie let out a bark, as if to say that she would keep the others in line.

“So, what do you think?” Elijah asked. “Of the grove, I mean. It’s great, right?”

Oscar frowned, then squatted next to the watchful Sophie. He reached out, scratching her ears as he answered, “It is powerful. The ethera is thick. It’s…a good place.”

Elijah let out a subtle sigh of relief. He’d been a little worried that Oscar wouldn’t feel at home within the grove. After all, it was obviously Elijah’s place, and he expected that the power he held over everything in his domain would scare some people off. And for better or worse, Oscar was a creature of freedom. He didn’t like putting himself under anyone’s thumb. Not even if that person was a friend.

“Wait until you see Ironshore,” he said. “Plus, we’ve got an appointment with the barber. And I want you to meet Carmen. Oh, and what do you want for lunch?”

Elijah knew he was coming on a little strong, but he was also well aware of just how close to the edge Oscar was. The man was strung just about as tightly as a person could be without snapping. If that happened, Oscar might flee into the wilderness never to return. So, Elijah knew precisely how much was riding on that first impression.

“I like pancakes.”

“What?”

“My mother used to make pancakes when I was young. She said we were Americans, and we should eat like it,” he said, staring off into the distance as he pulled Sophie a little closer. She laid her head on his knee. “And sausage. The little links, as hot as we could find. Lots of syrup. The kind was important, too. Real maple syrup from Vermont. She had it shipped in. One of the only things she ever really spent money on, but it was important to her. It came in these glass bottles that made it look like whiskey.” He went quiet for a moment, then added, “Something like that would be nice.”

Silence stretched between them for a few seconds, broken only by the sound of dogs barking as they chased foxes. Then, Elijah said, “I think we can swing something like that. Let’s go.”

As it turned out, it took a few stern words from Oscar to get the dogs to follow, but soon enough, they headed out to the dock. He stood there for a long few seconds, tapping his lip as he stared at the rowboat.

“What’s wrong?” asked Oscar.

“Considering,” he answered. “To take the boat or not to take the boat? That is the question. On the one hand, I could just dive in and use Shape of the Sea. I prefer that. Or I could fly, but that would leave you here. On the other hand, I hate that boat.”

“Why?”

Elijah shrugged. “I hate rowing.”

“Okay…”

“Like, more than anything, I hate it,” he elaborated. Then, he went into a short tirade about how it was a waste of time and effort. “I guess I’m just scarred. I spent a while rowing back and forth without any other option. It’s not like it’s difficult. And it doesn’t take that long. But it just…annoys me, I guess.”

Escobar barked.

“What’d he say?” Elijah asked.

“He agrees. Flying is better,” Oscar stated.

“Technically he doesn’t fly,” Elijah pointed out.

Oscar shrugged. “He doesn’t see it that way. No matter how many times I’ve said it.”

To punctuate that thought, Escobar sprang into the air and ran a few circles.

In the end, Elijah consented to taking the boat – largely because he wanted to ensure that Oscar had a way back to the island that didn’t include taking a swim. Once they got started, it really wasn’t as bad as he’d expected, but that was usually the case. The anticipation of rowing across the strait was much worse than the act itself.

Still annoying, though.

It didn’t take long for them to reach Ironshore’s docks, which had grown – both in scope and business – more than Elijah could have expected. He almost felt lost navigating between all the hulking ships, which made him sorely wish he’d been in his seagoing form. At least then he could just bully his way through.

Soon enough, they arrived at the slip that had been reserved for his rowboats. There were a couple already there, which wasn’t a surprise. No one else was currently on the island, which meant that Carmen, Biggle, and the children were probably in or around Ironshore.

Elijah tied the boat off, then sprang onto the dock, followed by the pack of dogs. Oscar brought up the rear, his eyes flicking back and forth as he surveyed the situation. It was like he expected someone to attack.

Not a bad assumption, considering the way the dockworkers looked at Elijah and, by extension, the pack. Fear and anticipation infected almost every expression, evidence that the residents of Ironshore hadn’t forgotten what Elijah had done before heading to Bogota.

That had been the point of it all, but dealing with the ramifications definitely twisted his stomach into knots.

He ignored them. Like he always did. Or at least, that was what he tried to do. The reality was that he couldn’t quite accomplish that feat, and the knowledge that everyone was very much afraid of him lingered in the background as he and the pack left the dock behind. The only upside was that people got out of their way; otherwise, they’d have been forced to weave their way through the dense crowd.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“Silver linings,” he said under his breath.

After a few minutes, they joined the throng of pedestrians walking the streets. Nearest the docks were a collection of warehouses and other businesses that depended on the sea, but it wasn’t long before Elijah and the pack left the smell of fish and the hustle and bustle of the busy docks behind.

The flow of traffic was lighter than normal, but even then, there were plenty of people on the street. Thankfully, Ironshore wasn’t as spread out as many American cities had been, so the entire settlement was walkable. Sure, it would take a normal person hours to walk from one side to the other, but Elijah’s destination was fairly close to the docks. So, they reached it after only fifteen minutes.

The business was marked by a simple sign – Ibit Brothers Barbershop – and it was obviously quite a successful place. Elijah led Oscar inside, and he was once again greeted by the consequences of his actions.

The clientele, most of whom were male, went pale, and conversation came to a screeching halt. But that wasn’t what Elijah focused on. Instead, he couldn’t help but remember that instead of two barbers, the shop had once played host to three. A single chair sat empty with a small memorial of paintings and a plaque honoring its former owner.

That gnome had participated in the first Battle of Ironshore, and like so many of the city’s residents, had died at the hands of the orcish horde Elijah had helped destroy.

“Oi. Yer back, eh? Haven’t seen you in a while, Mister Protector,” said one of the gnomes, who was standing on top of a stepstool so he could cut a dwarf’s hair. “Take a seat. We’ll getcha in a few.”

“You do dogs?” Elijah asked.

The other gnome – Derkins, if Elijah remembered correctly – snorted. “If it lives and breathes and has hair, we’ll cut it,” he said. “Was a time when I had a collywomper sittin’ in my chair. Don’t know how it became civilized, but it wanted a haircut. And who’m I to judge, eh? So I dove right in and gave ‘im the best damn trim he ever got.”

“That’s a lie an’ you know it,” said the first gnome. Brok, Elijah remembered. He couldn’t recall the name of the slain barber brother, though he probably should have.

In any case, the banter continued as Elijah and Oscar took a pair of chairs in the waiting area while the dogs settled in on the cold, tile floor. He didn’t fail to notice that a couple of people decided that was a good time to leave.

The barbers kept up the conversation, bickering between one another in a clear effort to draw attention from the weapons-of-mass-destruction in their midst. Elijah appreciated it, but he knew it didn’t really work. Their clients fled the scene the second the haircuts were completed.

Elijah and the pack didn’t have long to wait before one of the chairs opened up. He insisted that Oscar take the first turn.

Brok said, “Whoa there, lad. Been a minute since you had a proper cut, eh?”

“It’s…been a while.”

After that, Brok went to work, humming softly as he worked his magic. And it was magic, there was no doubt about it. Elijah didn’t know if there was a specific Barber class, but seeing what they did with Oscar, he wouldn’t have doubted it. The man’s hair had started off completely matted and uneven, and in only a few minutes, Brok had picked it apart until it became practically glossy.

When the Barber asked Oscar about style, the man just said, “I don’t know. Just…make it look better.”

Brok took that as a challenge, and over the next fifteen minutes, he did his work. When he’d finished, Oscar looked like an entirely different person. His beard was neatly trimmed and his hair shone like he was in a shampoo commercial. Broke had left it long, but he’d tied it back in a queue, leaving a long tail that reached the center of Oscar’s back.

If it wasn’t for his less-than-stellar attire, he might’ve looked like he’d just stepped out of a telenovela.

“Lookin’ good, buddy,” Elijah said as Oscar rejoined him.

By that point, Derkins had finished with his client, who’d hurried out of the barbershop quite hastily. He called for whoever wanted to be next. As it turned out, that was Freddy, who sat in the chair like she was the queen of the entire establishment. Derkins didn’t even ask what she wanted, instead launching into the grooming session like he’d spent his whole life tending to dogs.

As he did, he kept up a running commentary, “Always liked animals, I did. Never let anyone say otherwise. My first job was to take care of the governor’s cats.”

“They have cats on your world?” Elijah asked, surprised.

“They got cats everywhere, Mr. Protector,” Brok answered, calling for another dog. This time, Escobar pranced ahead of the pack. “Oh, you’re a strong one, ain’t’cha? Tiny but fierce. Just like a gnome.”

Escobar met that statement with smug approval, allowing the barber to tend to his fur. For his part, Elijah was fascinated with the process, which combined cleaning, trimming, and somehow infusing their fur – and claws – with ethera, prompting them to gleam healthier than ever before. They even cleaned the dogs’ teeth.

Over the next hour or so, the members of the pack were pampered and groomed, and when it was all said and done, they looked ready to win first prize at a dog show. Elijah was the last to submit to the Barbers, and they managed to tame his hair into some semblance of order. Mostly, that meant cutting it short like he usually preferred, though he kept his beard a touch longer than normal.

Sadie liked it like that.

Though he did have them shape it slightly to give it a sharper look.

Elijah and the pack left the barbershop after a little more than an hour, and when they did, they looked better than ever.

The next stop was Mari’s shop, and she consented to tailoring a special wardrobe for Oscar. The only notable bit was when she insisted that the dogs all needed sweaters. Escobar scoffed at the notion, but the rest of the dogs were more than onboard. So, Elijah paid Mari’s fee, which earned him the pack’s approval.

Except Escobar.

When Oscar objected to Elijah paying, he said, “Only a loan, man. Until you can get a folio. Probably should have done that first. Just pay me back later.”

As it turned out, that was the next order of business, and Oscar was quick to transfer the funds Elijah had spent. He was a little surprised to find that the other man was quite wealthy, though after only a little thought, he realized that it made sense. Oscar had been hunting since the very beginning, running towers whenever possible and exterminating any Voxx he encountered. And given that he didn’t exactly have expensive tastes, he’d amassed quite a small fortune.

Nothing compared to Elijah’s soap tycoon profits, but still impressive.

Once Oscar had his folio, they stopped by the Forge of Creation and had Carmen inspect the star electrum, which she said was an extremely high-quality material that she could turn into a pair of new hatchets. But given that Carmen was extremely busy, she ushered them out before they’d made any real plans.

“Come back later,” she called without looking away from what appeared to be the head of a hammer. “We’ll figure it out. Leave the ingot though. I need to study it to see what to pair it with.”

Oscar had no issues with doing just that, largely because, from everything Elijah had said, he knew Carmen was trustworthy.

Finally, they headed to Mama Lou’s, and as Elijah had predicted, the woman had absolutely no issues whipping up a proper pancake breakfast. Of course, it was closer to evening than morning, and the sausage wasn’t made from pork, but she had managed to get real maple syrup. So, it was better than Elijah could have expected.

Even the dogs were treated to bowls filled with some sort of meaty mash they seemed to love.

When he asked her about the syrup, Sue Anne said, “Got it from the Consortium. Not sure where they make it, but that Atticus fellow is a godsend for finding things we used to take for granted.”

“Yeah. He’s good at what he does,” Elijah said, remembering that he needed to visit Atticus as soon as possible so he could get everything identified. The seeds and plants he’d taken from the Primal Realm were already with Nerthus, but he still had the geode and the Legacy of Titans taking up all of his storage space. The sooner he could put them to use, the better.

Finally, when the serving girl had taken their plates away, Elijah leaned back in the booth and let out a satisfied sigh. “Pretty good, right?”

Oscar nodded, his face unreadable. Then, at last, he said, “Thank you. For everything, I mean. I don’t think I ever said that. When I sent that message, I didn’t really expect you to come. I was desperate, though. You came through, and I can’t…I don’t know how to show my gratitude.”

“That’s what friends are for,” Elijah said. “You’d do the same for me.”

Oscar nodded. “I…now I would.”

That was enough to give Elijah hope that maybe – just maybe – he’d found a way to help the man, and not just to rescue an errant chihuahua. Rather, in a broader sense. And that was all he’d wanted since the beginning.