Chapter 64: The Bear Was Not Being Subtle

Dove put her cup down and asked the keeper to show her the roads properly. Thorne spread their map across the counter while Edrik kept his place beside the route board.

Milepost stood east of the mall. North Service Depot was eight miles north of Milepost, with three caretakers, a fuel store, and a room for travelers. The direct road continued toward the broken bridge, beyond which lay Terminal. That crossing had been damaged before; now, according to the courier, an entire span had fallen.

"There are western supply roads," the keeper said. "Longer, with other crossings. You’d have to ask at each stop which were still open."

Dove traced the detour. Terminal remained a destination, but no longer a place they could reach by picking the shortest line. Thorne told her they could wait, and she appreciated the offer without wanting to stay where every message from the Warren might follow.

"I’d rather keep moving," she said. "With stops. Actual stops, with roofs and dinner, before anyone mistakes me for an adventurous person."

He squeezed her hand. Edrik said nothing, but he looked at the western road for longer than the broken bridge.

Day Twenty-Eight’s stock was three sturdy pull sleds. Two sales paid twelve normal coins, and six fresh Favor unlocked a heavy blanket for twenty. Sprout said larger travel goods were now available through the bonded tier. Dove told it she might forgive the buttons if it eventually produced a heated car.

Dove washed with pool water before dressing, then helped Thorne compare his wrist scar with their earlier notes. He drank a second small cup by choice. The raised edge looked flatter, and a simple metal exercise tired him less, but the deeper marks remained.

She told him he was still handsome, which made him pull her onto his lap while she held the pencil. Apparently he could live with the terrible strain.

His pleasure counted toward the daily Favor target. Sprout immediately suggested she could gather the rest by speaking to Edrik, who had spent breakfast looking at her whenever he thought she was busy.

When Sprout recommended a thoughtful personal gift, Dove told it to stop planning dates she hadn’t agreed to go on.

All three sleds sold to road crews for dried vegetables, cocoa, and sealed canned meals. Dove stored the cocoa for her daily task. The fixed reward brought her normal purse from nine to twenty-one. She left the heavy blanket unlocked but unbought; they already had bedding. She could enjoy selling out without spending everything.

At the next table, a dog beastman produced one bobby pin from his palm. Yesterday he had made a single potato chip, he told Dove, and waiting all afternoon had not earned him a second. Another described a tiny shop window only he could see, offering one random object daily with no choice. His prize was a lone sock.

"You two should team up," she said. "By next winter you might dress one foot." They laughed, then watched a buyer pull away one of her full-sized sleds. Sprout cheerfully reminded her that its stock could keep improving. She asked it for coffee.

A carer stopped to ask about lounge trousers for his eldest boy, who was growing out of every donated pair. Dove checked the sizes of the three she had paid to keep on their day off. One fit, and she traded it for an old paperback from the carer’s own belongings. She still had two pairs safely stored.

She had seen Edrik read the same battered booklet twice beside the cub-room door. That was her reason for offering him the novel, whatever Sprout wanted to call it.

"Fiction," she said, putting it beside his cup. "For when glaring at the room gets repetitive. I haven’t checked the ending, so please direct all complaints to the author."

He asked what she wanted in return, apparently unable to accept a gift without checking for a catch. "You’re allowed to enjoy something that doesn’t need guarding," she told him.

He turned it over, thumb resting gently against the worn cover. "Thank you, Dove."

Hearing her name without a rumor attached made her lose her next joke. She told him he was welcome and returned to Thorne, who was watching with a much less serious face than she deserved.

"You found him a book," he murmured. "Should I start worrying about the library?"

"He looks like he needs a hobby that isn’t staring at me. I’m helping."

His laugh completed the target, with the daily mate extra bringing her Favor to one thousand seventy-seven. Edrik’s interest had contributed, Sprout informed her, sounding smug enough that she refused to ask for details.

After lunch, the system opened a new window showing a large box labeled COMMUNITY GIFT. It held eighty small treat packets and washable cloth squares for the cubs. One box, free, with no mission reward and no stock-return fees. It would not refill.

Sprout claimed it wanted to support the cubs, which sounded suspiciously wholesome. Dove checked the item details for a hidden charge and found none. Dove checked twice, then asked Thorne to carry it. She fetched it in their locked room, remaining seated while her mind entered the space. Thorne carried it back through the diner, where the keeper took charge of dividing everything safely by age. The carers chose suitable pieces for the smallest cubs.

While Thorne took the box through the open connecting doors, two men approached Dove’s empty counter with gifts. One explained that he could join her journey; the other started telling her why his shoulders were broader. She could still see Thorne, and he looked back immediately when she stepped away from them.

"You can put the gifts down," Dove told them. "If I want company, I’ll ask. And don’t make me repeat that with my boyfriend watching." Thorne returned to her side, his shoulder brushing hers, and both men stepped back.

Once they moved off, the keeper lowered his voice and marked her map. "Pine Ridge. A shelter in an old forest school, west beyond the depot. Three days on foot from here, two for a fast panther if the road holds. Few crews know it. I don’t put it on the public board."

When she asked why he trusted her with the location, he mentioned the cubs. "Ask for the caretaker at the school kitchen and tell him I sent you."

Thorne checked the map beside her. She asked the keeper which turn left the direct Terminal road. He marked it clearly, a mile beyond the depot, and warned that storm damage could still slow them.

That evening, the couriers brought news that the road as far as the depot had reopened. Dove packed her coffee pot and thanked the keeper for the room. Through the connecting doors she saw Edrik tighten his travel harness, the novel wrapped carefully in his pack.

Thorne asked the bear where he was going, although his grin suggested he already knew. Edrik looked directly at Dove as he said someone ought to check the western road to Terminal.