24. Aurelia
Chapter 24
Ilay curled up in his arms, breathing in his scent and basking in his heat. The voices in the clearing were quieting as people drifted away to their beds, shifting into their wolves and curling up. The lantern still glowed, bathing his strong jaw and straight features in the warm light.
I traced his full lips with my fingertips and then his shapely eyebrows. The pad of my finger drifted along the ridge of his nose, along his chin and then down his throat. His even breath washed across my face, so peaceful in his sleep.
For once I felt entirely tranquil beside him. I wasn’t his prisoner any longer. He was letting me go.
My heart swelled with overwhelming gratitude as I took in his handsome face. He was easily the most attractive man I’d ever seen. The most charismatic, too.
Maybe it is this situation with you that is my true punishment...
It occurred to me that the situation he spoke of wasn’t taking me to the dragons. If it were, letting me leave would absolve him of that hardship. It wasn’t foregoing his duty, either. How I left would clear him of that, not to mention my innocence of the crimes in question. No, it had to be me leaving him at all that was his true punishment.
I gasped out a struggled breath that rustled Weston’s hair. It was time to go.
I bent forward and kissed his lips softly, lingering there for a moment. Gods help me, I no longer wanted to walk away. Now that I had the ability, I didn’t want to exercise my freedom. I couldn’t stay here, though. If I stayed, he’d have no choice but to do his duty.
And it sounded like it might not be in my best interest to meet the dragons.
After quickly getting dressed I grabbed my bag, hearing a tinkling in the bottom. Confused, I opened and reached down, finding a little sack with hard objects inside.
Gold.
My eyes widened as I looked into the pouch.
Inside was more gold than I’d ever seen in my life, though in fairness, I had rarely ever seen one coin, let alone several. Weston had known with certainty tonight would be the night even before I’d given him that wine. He wasn’t just letting me walk away, he was ensuring I could do it easily. Safely. He was providing me the necessities to start a life on my own, something Granny had never done.
The tears filling my eyes overflowed this time.
He didn’t have to do this. Letting me go was plenty, providing me an escape path was beyond expectations, but this? My heart swelled again, so big I nearly choked on it.
I wasn’t going to waste his generosity. I tucked the pouch back inside my pack, on top of a pile of my clothes. He’d put those in, too.
Last was the lantern. I took it from its hook and then stopped next to the cot, bending to press one last kiss to his forehead.
“Good-bye,” I whispered, my voice quivering.
With the lantern doused for the moment, I wasted no time, quickly and silently slipping out of the tent and around it to the woods beyond. Wolves lay in groups, sheltered at the bases of trees or opting for the soft grasses. Emberflies moved through the air in a lazy drift, sparkling above them.
This time my heart constricted. I’d made friends here. Well, the closest thing to friends I’d ever had, at any rate. I’d made allies; Hadriel was clearly in my corner. I’d remember them, always. I’d remember that, despite how we’d met, they’d eventually helped me get a fresh start in life.
Beyond them and through the trees, the bright moonlight dappled the ground, cutting down on my visibility. There was nothing for it but to push through. I couldn’t use a light until I was away from sentry view. There was a hole in their coverage, sure, but I doubted that would extend to a great glowing beacon. All I had to do was keep my current direction and I’d be fine.
It took about an hour and a half to finally step out of the trees, and I stood there for a moment, a little shaken. I looked back, seeing nothing but darkness and shadow in my wake. I felt no presence lurking in the shadows, felt no eyes watching me. No one waited.
Good news.
I ran my fingers through my hair and straightened my clothes so that I looked presentable. Once upon a time, a starved and frightened child stumbled up to gate houses and along thoroughfares of towns like the one in front of me, looking for help or shelter. Looking for food. Sometimes it had been in the middle of the night; I’d been bedraggled and wild and begging for help, eventually explaining what happened to my mother and revealing my magic-less status. Those had been nails into my coffin, the guards completely unbothered if I were to stagger away somewhere and die.
Not this time.
With my head held high and an air of importance swirling around me, I walked with confidence along the path leading to the town. Given the hour and the apparent size of the town, the large wooden rolling gate would still be closed. A little viewing station sat beside it, currently empty.
“Hello there,” I called up, my lantern glowing and my pack secured on my back. I had a few coppers in my pocket for easy reach. Weston had thoughtfully given me change. Flashing around a bunch of gold would only bring the wrong sort of interest. “Hello!”
A sleepy face showed in the cut-out window with no glass. A man on in his years rubbed his eyes and then ran a dirty palm down his face. He blinked several times and then looked down on me again.
“What are you doin’ here at this time of night?” he asked, looking around me as though someone might jump out of the bushes.
“Please forgive me my intrusion,” I said with a gracious smile, bowing a little. “My horse went lame on the road and I dared not stop for too long. The roads can be dangerous at night. Unfortunately, it took me way longer than I could’ve expected on foot. Please, I’m tired and my feet are sore. I need an inn and a hot meal or warm bed?—“
The sound of hooves and the clink of metal interrupted my rehearsed speech. A light danced down the road, a bright lantern showing the side of a wagon, a ruddy sort of face with long whiskers, and the silhouettes of a team of four horses.
“Well what’s this, now?” the gatekeeper demanded, his accusation plain.
I didn’t bother answering, instead stepping to the side and further into the shadows. I knew that wasn’t part of Weston’s pack. What I didn’t know was if these newcomers had any connection to Alexander. He might not have been lurking these last several days, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t traveling the roads. Maybe it was a long shot, but I knew better than to take chances, especially with him.
“Whoa,” the whiskered man said as the horses drew near. “Whoa!”
The horses whinnied as metal clinked and leather groaned.
“You there!” the man shouted when he was within earshot. “Open the gates!”
“By whose authority?” the gate keeper shouted in return.
“I’ve got supplies here and a new shipment of tradable goods. We got some of Granny’s Special.”
A thrill coursed through me and I stepped a little further into the shadows beside the gate, lowering my lantern as much as I could without making it seem like I was trying to hide. Hopefully the light, now coming from below, would distort my visage somewhat, hiding my identity.
“We don’t need none of that Granny bullcrap,” the gate keeper growled. “We’ve got too much as it is. It’s ruinin’ this town, I say. That stuff is pure evil.”
“It’s not for you to decide what this town needs,” the stranger snarled. “This order was placed by the mayor. Open the fucking gates. I’m already way behind schedule. You’re holding me up.”
“The mayor is getting a cut of it, that’s why,” the gate keeper said, leaning out a little more. “Crooked, the lot of them!”
“That’s the way the world works. Hurry up.”
Continuing to grumble to himself, the gate keeper disappeared from view. The man on the wagon looked down at me, his light shining against his glass eye.
“What are you doing all by your lonesome at this time of night?” He looked me over. “A pretty thing like you shouldn’t be traveling all alone.”
“That’s why I’m here,” I answered smoothly, if a little defiantly. There was no hint of the frightened girl I remembered. “I was waylaid. My travel companions are inside.”
“That right.” His mouth worked for a moment before he spit off to the side. His gaze trailed over me, noticing my lantern and then the pack on my back. “Fancy lantern. It don’t seem to match your cheap clothes or that dingy rucksack.”
I huffed and looked away as though annoyed. My legs shook.
“Not that it is any of your concern,” I replied haughtily, “but the lantern was a gift and outlasted my travel lantern. It is the only reason I use it now.” A latch clinked beyond the wooden gate. I turned and applied the same scrutiny to the stranger. “As far as my attire... well, you’re in no position to judge, are you?”
He paused for a moment as the whine of a crank began. His smile showed a few gaps in his teeth.
“Feisty. I like that,” he said as the gate started to open. “When you get tired of your travel companions, I’ll be at the Red Lion Inn. You know, in case you run out of funds. Hah!” He snapped the reins, getting the horses moving.
I was pretty sure that last bit was meant to be lewd—an offer to pay me for my services. Charming.
The gates were wide open by the time the wagon was through and I slipped in after it, darting through the shadows and ignoring the “Hey!” from the gate keeper. If memory served me correctly, he wouldn’t be bothered to get down to chase me. Even if he did, he wouldn’t catch me.
The town didn’t so much as open up before me, more like it gathered around. A couple banners flailed limply from spires off to the sides of the modest gate I’d just walked through, a greeting for those visiting or returning. Each featured some sort of creature I couldn’t decipher, maybe mythical, but probably a sigil of the mayor or whatever noble essentially ran this place.
Cobblestone streets wound in various directions, snaking around stone houses and wood-framed shopfronts. Oppressive stone walls encircled the outskirts.
The stranger had gone straight on, probably to the heart of the town or maybe just cutting through to the other side. He’d been headed for an inn. Given the size of this town, I assumed there’d be more than one but felt it likely they’d be grouped together.
I hurried forward, sticking to the edges of the lane, no one sharing the walkway with me. The horses and wagon moved through the glowing streetlamps ahead, spots of light rolling over the bobbing horse heads and a hunched human frame behind them. For the moment, he didn’t seem to be looking around or looking back, intent on his destination and his meeting with me forgotten. If he never saw me again, I doubt he’d remember the meeting at the gate at all.
I’d just have to make sure he never saw me again.
The lane widened as more store fronts dotted the way, leading to a central square featuring a large stone fountain. The creature in the middle—a badly carved wolf, perhaps?—was different than the banners, probably built with the town or shortly thereafter, a noble etching his or her name into the bones but the family unable to stand the test of time. No water poured from its mouth or pooled in the shallow surface.
More banners flew here and I noticed the wagon stopping at the stable beside an establishment with a roaring lion on the sign. Obviously he wasn’t lying about where he was staying. There were others, though, one with a five-legged horse, another with a teddy bear—no, wait, that was a toy shop. Still another with a . . .half-horse and half-fish? That just seemed wrong.
Anyone checking in right now would be suspect. A woman my age checking in right now would garner unneeded attention.
I slipped into the alleyways, surprised to find bodies huddled along the sides or laying spread out on tattered sheets and other sleeping items. Those on their backs or sides were obviously sleeping, obviously without homes and unwelcome in stables, but the ones huddled, or the guy standing at the far side, stooped and staring, mouth hanging open with drool dripping down, seemed... not lucid. It almost looked like he was in a coma while standing up.
I slowed as I passed, lifting my lantern a little to make sure he was okay. His pupils were blown wide and hardly contracted in the glow. He flinched, his movements jerky, before his expression creased in anger.
“You dare return, creature of the night?” he rasped in a broken voice raw from too much screaming. “You dare to seek my soul?”
He lashed out, attempting to strike a non-existent enemy.
“Unhand me, you fiend!” he shouted, growling as he continued to wrestle with nothing. He backed up against the wall, bounced off it, turned, and bent under the force of an unseen foe. “I will not go with you! Do you understand me? Oh!”
He froze... and then straightened up in halting movements. His head cocked to the side, his eyes focused on an invisible target about ten feet from me. A wicked gleam pulled at his lips.
“Is that how you want to play it?”
This man’s behavior reminded me of Raz when he’d spun in a nightmare for too long and couldn’t find his way out. He’d threaten to kill me or just blindly attack, and I’d have to shove him outside or into the supply closet. This man was much wilder than Raz, his movements not right or natural, but with the same sort of wild mania. He’d taken a similar product.
An uncomfortable feeling crawled through me.
“It’s going to be okay,” I said in a soothing voice, lowering my lantern to look at his feet. I had no idea why I’d thought to, or how I’d known exactly what I’d find.
A crinkly wrapper lay not far from his toes, discarded and forgotten. It refracted my lantern’s glow in some places, and the color was off because of the indigo light, but it was familiar to me all the same. Purple and black in a design I’d created when I was younger and had given to Granny as a card for her birthday. I’d created a dancing little fairy in the middle of my art, but this wrapper’s design showed a butterfly in flight, the fairy wings I’d drawn used for the insect’s.
“Breathing will help defeat your foe,” I told the man, circling around him to step among the rags and debris lining the wall of the alley at the back or side of a business. “Suck in your fuel and breathe fire onto the enemy.”
I picked through his things as he froze, his head cocking to the side as my voice infiltrated his hallucination.
“You must become the mighty dragon to defeat the knight,” I said, finding another wrapper mixed in with his bedding. “Suck in the fuel, man,” I commanded, half paying attention. “Suck it in!”
I heard his deep intake of breath.
“Now . . . fire!”
The man exhaled loudly, and while he was distracted I gathered up all the wrappers I could find. He had a couple others I didn’t recognize, other competitors probably, scant in comparison to those from Granny. His other trash came from food items or other living necessities. I gathered that up, too, before straightening out his bed clothes.
“Almost there!” My voice was lofty. “Seize the day. Suck in that fuel. You are mighty.”
I folded his rags, the scraps of cloth apparently being used as his clothes, and put them to the side.
“Fire!” I shouted.
I looked around for something larger than these few items, finding a tarp down the alley—and another person who’d been hunched, now following my instructions. My heart pinched.
“Suck in that fuel.” I made my way over to the second man, this one not nearly as animated as the first. He was near the end of his journey. “Are you okay?” I asked him softly so that the other man wouldn’t hear. If the other man thought about it, he’d render himself definitely not okay and all hell would break loose.
The hunched man looked up at me and I moved the lantern away a little so it didn’t blind him. His skin sagged and his eyes were dull as they looked through me, not at me. The torn clothing adorning his body hung from him, much too big but well-worn, as though he’d owned them when he’d had twice the body mass.
“Have you come to take me to the gods?” he asked in a frail and shaky voice.
I shook my head sadly, laying a hand on his shoulder. “The gods do not want you, yet. You have more life to live. Tell me, how can I help you?” I turned toward the standing man quickly. “Fuel, man! Suck in that fuel! If you don’t, they’ll get you.”
“Are you an angel?” the hunched man asked me, his eyes clouding a little.
“No,” I whispered, sparing a moment to shout, “Fire!” over my shoulder. My hand stayed on the hunched man’s shoulder and I spied a discarded wrapper within his things. The butterfly in the center taunted me. “Quite the opposite. I think I am the bringer of hell.”
The man’s eyes seemed to clear a little and looked over my face. “No,” he replied, his face stretching into a smile. “No,” he said again. “I see the light in you. You are hell’s nemesis.” He issued a wary sigh. “I think I’ll go to the gods now. Thank you for coming.”
With that, he closed his eyes and laid down, curled up on his makeshift bed. His pulse still beat, thank the gods. He’d just sleep.
“Suck it in,” I said as the man in front of me drifted off to sleep. “Fire!”
I stood, looking down the alley at the others, not paying attention to what was happening at this end. Who was helping them? Were they all taking Granny’s product?
My product?
A sinking realization had sweat beading along my brow.
“Can’t be,” I murmured, dread pitting in my stomach.
Weston had listened to me in the end. I’d never listened to him, so sure in my product and my relative innocence. I’d trusted Granny implicitly to handle my product with care.
Hadn’t Weston showed me that I couldn’t trust her at all? Not with my life, not with my wellbeing, not with an entire village of people. Why hadn’t I stopped to think that maybe, just maybe, I shouldn’t trust her over him in this, either?
“Fuck,” I murmured, my chest suddenly tight.
Dread coiled in my belly, rapidly turning into threads of panic. I returned first to the standing man, who was now breathing deeply on his own and in the process of calming down. With gentle firmness, I directed him to the side of the alley and helped him hunker down on his pile of rags, his bones too sharp and his movements too clunky. This wasn’t something that had happened overnight. He’d been on a slow decline to this state for a while.
I covered him with the tarp I’d found, the smell a little musty but no worse than the man’s odor. He tried to push it off, but I held it down and then tucked the edges around him.
In a moment he stilled. His exhale was telling. The tarp started rising and falling with his breaths.
Granny had told me one time not to bother with the fail-safes, that no one else did something like that. I hadn’t listened and she hadn’t pushed because changing it would’ve taken time—a resource she hadn’t wanted me to waste.
The fail-safe worked. Of that, there was no doubt. This man was clearly in throes of something that had my product as its base, but he reacted in more extreme ways, suggesting the product had been altered after it left the village. Raz had never stopped and stared with his pupils that dilated. No one in the village had. He’d never drooled like that, or essentially powered down while standing upright. At his worst, he’d attacked.
Tingles washed through my body at what this meant as I checked the other people in the alley. I was shoved away from a man I thought was sleeping. A woman told me to fuck off, but I collected the few wrappers I could find anyway. Almost all of them were Granny’s. Almost all of them showcased my design, created as a child, created to thank her for taking me in. I think I’d been thirteen. Fourteen? Weston would know. He’d probably read about that card in one of my journals.
The people in this alley must’ve taken quite a bit if there were this many wrappers. That, or they didn’t consume food as much as they consumed this. Judging by the way their bodies wasted away, that was likely the case.
Gods, I hoped it wasn’t. I hoped their need for my product wasn’t stronger than the need for sustenance. That wasn’t what this product was made for, though I feared this was exactly how it was used.
With dread crawling into my heart, I exited the alley making a mental note to return in the daytime. Hopefully they’d be cognizant and able to chat then. Hopefully they’d want to. I wanted more information. I needed more information. The implications of what I’d just witnessed in conjunction with the things Weston and his people had been saying worried me.
I also wanted to see if I could help them in any way, maybe to find proper lodging. I had more money than I needed and could afford to help these people get a leg up and out of their current situation.
I didn’t know what I would do if it turned out Weston had been right all along.