Chapter 14
Chapter
Fourteen
Malachi stared ahead at the glow of the markets. Christmas trees towered over wooden stalls decorated with greenery, tinsel, and candles. As they drew closer, the smell of mulled wine, hot chocolate, smoke from wood fires, roasted meats, candied nuts, and fried dough lingered in the air.
A smile played on his lips as they entered the markets. Snow continued falling, contributing to the magic of it all.
Children’s voices singing a Christmas carol grew louder as Malachi and Trent approached. Malachi watched the children’s choir. His vocal cords tingled as he remembered the act of singing. His lungs filled with breath. He looked away.
“You can make wreaths at that stall there.” Trent pointed. “Over there you can buy wooden Christmas decorations. You can buy lots of decorations here at the markets.”
Trent spoke rapidly, making Malachi think he was probably nervous. Which made sense considering what he’d said about not spending much time with people who weren’t family.
Again, Malachi wondered why Trent had decided to befriend him. After all, he was significantly older. They had different backgrounds and no clear commonalities. But perhaps the young man was particularly perceptive and could tell Malachi needed a friend too.
“It is all very beautiful.” Malachi examined the stalls they passed.
“It is, isn’t it?” Trent asked. “Are you thirsty? Hungry? Over there you can get hot chocolate. And that stall sells mulled wine. Or maybe you want to walk around a bit first.”
“Let’s walk around.” Malachi smiled at Trent, hoping to put the man at ease.
“All right.”
For a couple of minutes, they strolled amongst the wooden huts selling jewellery, knitted goods, and other knick-knacks.
“The markets are a great place to buy Christmas gifts,” Trent said. “I often buy my siblings’ presents here.”
Malachi nodded. And as they moved further into the market, the busier and busier it became. Where they entered the markets, there had been only a few people around.
But now people bustled against him. Voices grew louder. Heat from bodies chased the chill of the air away. Malachi began to sweat. He clenched his hands. He’d forgotten how much he disliked crowds.
“Let’s get more mulled wine!” a fairy cried out.
“And I want some candied almonds,” another fairy shouted right in Malachi’s ear.
Someone bumped into Malachi. He gritted his teeth. His muscles coiled. Everywhere he looked there were throngs of people.
“There is a stall that sells glass baubles,” Trent pointed out, clearly unbothered by the cacophony of people enclosing them. But of course, he worked here. He was used to the bustle.
Meanwhile Malachi spent his days in his quiet emporium, serving a slow stream of customers. He spent his life closed off, living in solitude.
I don’t belong here.
The crush and noise of the people grew louder still. Boisterous laughter and drunken yells filled the air. Malachi hunched his shoulders, wishing he could be somewhere quieter.
But Trent just kept talking and smiling. “Up there is my family’s stall. We could go say hello.” He stopped walking. “But they look pretty busy at the moment. Perhaps we’ll come back later when there is less of a queue.”
Malachi forced a smile, trying to hide his discomfort. “All right.” He followed Trent’s gaze to a stall. On one side stood an oven, smoke rising from it. From here, he could scent the freshly baked bread. Indeed, a large line stood before the stall.
But all the stalls had large lines. Everywhere he looked there were crowds.
“Is it always this busy?” Malachi took a step backwards, trying to get away from the constant stream of people.
Trent shook his head, coming up beside him as he scanned the masses. “Tonight seems particularly so. But this is the busiest time of the day. People come straight from work.”
“I see.” Malachi had been nervous about coming out. He’d been nervous about doing something new. It seemed that he’d been right to be.
He tugged at his collar. He thought about suggesting they leave. But he didn’t want to offend Trent. After all, Trent loved the Christmas markets. And he’d been so keen for Malachi to enjoy the evening.
Setting the smile on his face, Malachi stepped forward once again, joining the masses, determined to get through this. After all, it was just a simple market. He could handle this. He’d not become so socially inept that he couldn’t spend a single night at a festive Christmas event!
“Ow!” Malachi cried out and looked behind him. An elven child, probably three or four, laughed and released two of his tentacles from his grip. Malachi’s mouth fell open as he stared at the child who’d grabbed and tugged on his tentacles.
“Adam! No!” An elven man, presumably the boy’s father, scolded the child. “You can’t just grab someone’s tentacles.” The man looked at Malachi. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s…all right.” Malachi touched the tentacles the child had grabbed, pulling them protectively against his body.
The father lifted the child, gave Malachi another apologetic look, and walked off. “Adam, you can’t do that,” he said and continued to explain to the child what he’d done wrong.
“You all right?” Trent asked.
“I’m fine.” Malachi gave a tight smile. “No doubt the child hasn’t seen many tentacles hanging loose like this before. He was probably just curious.”
What he said was true. But it just added to the feeling that everyone was too close and invading his space.
“Probably.” Trent watched him with a concerned expression.
Malachi looked around. It really was beautiful. But it was all too much. And he was too much of a shut-in. Too used to being away from noise and chaos and crowds. Too used to being alone.
I just want to go home. I’m not ready to rejoin the living.
The realisation settled heavily in his limbs.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Trent asked softly.
“I’m fine.” Malachi took a breath and tried to smile.
Trent kept looking at him, his brows furrowed.
Malachi sighed. Clearly, he wasn’t doing a good job pretending. “I’m just not used to throngs of people.” His hands on his tentacles tensed. “And while I can definitely see why you love it here, I feel like I’m not suited to such an…exuberant environment.”
“Oh.” Trent looked around. “I see.” His shoulders sagged. “Well, we should probably leave, then.”
“I …We don’t have to,” Malachi said.
Trent gave him a sad smile. “If you aren’t enjoying yourself, I don’t think we should stay.”
Malachi stared at him for a second. Finally he nodded.
“This way to the exit.” Trent walked.
Malachi followed. “I’m sorry.”
Trent threw him a smile, but the disappointment was clear on his face. “Don’t be.”
But Malachi was. He’d ruined their night. For the first time in years, he’d gone out with someone. And he’d ruined it completely.
No wonder Malachi had no friends. No wonder he was all alone. “I’m afraid I’m more comfortable these days just sitting in my quiet room above my emporium at night.”
Trent abruptly halted. Malachi stopped beside him. Trent stared ahead.
“Trent?”
“I have an idea. Come.” Trent led him to the edge of the markets, and thankfully the crowd. Almost immediately Malachi felt like he could breathe again.
“Will you wait here a few minutes?” Trent’s brown eyes stared intently up into Malachi’s.
“Okay,” Malachi said.
“Please don’t go anywhere,” Trent said as if worried Malachi would disappear.
“I won’t. I promise.”
Then Trent was off, dashing back into the markets, weaving through the horde before disappearing entirely.
Malachi didn’t know what to make of that. But he stayed where he said he would, staring at the people, feeling guilty for the way their night had gone.
I was defeated by the pretty Christmas markets.
And Trent had been so happy when Malachi accepted his invitation. Maybe he regretted inviting Malachi. For a second, he thought that maybe Trent had run off and left him.
But he didn’t think that was true. He did not know Trent well, but he didn’t think the man would be cruel enough to make him promise to stay and then run off on him.
For several minutes, Malachi stood watching the laughing and smiling people walking past, wishing he could be like them. He was sure he’d been carefree once. Years ago, he thought he would have fit in amongst them.
Not anymore, it seemed.
A head of brown hair bobbed through the crowds, moving towards him. Trent carried a couple of paper bags tucked beneath his arms and two steaming cups of something.
Trent slowed as he approached. He held out one of the steaming cups. “Here you are, the best hot chocolate in all Anorra.”