Chapter 8 #2
“We have a spare bed, if you would like to stay the night. We could also use some extra hands around the farm.” Winnie’s offer seems genuine, but I’ve already been here far too long.
I have to keep moving, and truthfully, I don’t think I would be able to sleep here with people I don’t know, no matter how hospitable they’ve been.
“No, that’s alright. I appreciate the offer, but I must be going,” I insist.
“Well, if you’re sure. Please take some leftovers to go. I made plenty, and there’s no way we’re going to eat all of that.” Looking over at the remaining eggs and bacon, I know that’s not the case, but I nod anyway, knowing she’s just trying to be kind and not overbearing.
“Also, why don’t you take Licorice. You can tie him up right outside of town, and one of us will bring him back later when we run in,” Harvey suggests after finishing his eggs.
“Oh, that is a great idea!” Winnie chimes, boxing up the rest of the food.
“I really couldn’t. You’ve done so much for me already.”
“I insist. It’s a long walk there—trust me. I’ve done it a time or two, and it’s not the most forgiving.”
“Thank you.” Their kindness is consuming. These people have no idea who I am, or where I came from, and yet they found it in their hearts to help me—to continue to help me. But my pessimist side is waiting for the other shoe to drop, knowing this is all too good to be true.
“I’ll finish up here, if you want to get Licorice ready,” Harvey tells his wife, and she nods in understanding, something unspoken between the two.
Winnie leads the way to one of the pastures, carrying the leftovers and a canteen filled with water. “Have you ever ridden before?” she asks.
“I have, but it’s been a while,” I lie. I’ve ridden Voraxis for Goddess’ sake; a horse should be a cake walk.
“Good, he’s pretty easy to ride anyway. He was my daughter’s horse and hasn’t really been the same since she’s been gone.” I didn’t look closely at the pictures in the house. It felt too personal, an invasion for a stranger to come in and start looking at their things.
“Where is she?” I’m not sure what possessed me to ask the question. It spewed from my mouth without a second thought.
“I’m afraid I don’t know.” Her words come out longingly, like she’s been wondering where her daughter could have gone for a very long time. She offers me a half smile, and I don’t push for any further answers.
Winnie gets Licorice saddled up, placing the leftovers and canteen in one of the pouches. She also gave me boots to wear after finding them in the barn and noting my lack of footwear.
“I can’t thank you enough,” I tell her because I truly can’t.
Maybe there is still good left in the world.
Her eyes turn glossy as she stares up at me from where I sit atop the horse. Quickly, she turns her head and lets out a lighthearted chuckle while pinching the bridge of her nose. Unease washes over me because why is this lady crying? I’ve known her for two hours.
“Sorry about that.” She swipes a hand through the air. “Have a safe trip.” Turning back toward the house, she retreats with rushed steps.
Kicking my feet against Licorice’s sides, he starts trotting down the dirt road.
I’m not sure why I do it, but I steal a look over my shoulder and admire the property.
My eyes travel over the animals, the barn, and finally the house where I see Harvey and Winnie on the porch.
Winnie’s head is buried into Harvey’s chest, and it looks like he’s consoling her with an arm wrapped around her shoulders, his hand rubbing the side of her arm.
“How strange,” I comment aloud. Licorice shakes his head, and I wonder to myself if this horse is more than what meets the eye.
The trees were dense on the ride to town.
Licorice and I got well-acquainted when I had to urgently use the bathroom and didn’t think about it before we left.
The canteen is empty, and the leftovers are long gone.
I couldn’t help myself, even knowing it wasn’t the most responsible thing to do, considering there’s no guarantee when I’ll eat again. But alas, I’m only so strong.
True to Harvey’s word, the trail spit us out between two buildings in the middle of town. I tied Licorice to one of the posts and made my way over to a stall near the market.
The worker was busy helping another customer, and although I felt guilty, I snagged a couple apples from their bin and hurried away.
I offer them both to the horse, and he takes them greedily. I feel bad leaving him here, but I can’t exactly trot him around, no doubt he would get recognized. Then I’d probably get arrested for horse-napping, and that would be hilarious.
Running my hand down his mane, I assure him Winnie and Harvey will be back soon to get him and try to ignore the sinking feeling in my gut as I leave him there.
Weaving myself in and out of the sea of people, there are a few bumps here and there, but everyone seems very polite.
Shops line either side of the walkway that’s not even big enough for a car to drive on.
Perusing the different carts stationed around, a woman lets out a scream, and I immediately drop to the ground.
Hands covering my ears, someone trips over my curled form, but I don’t have it in me to care.
I have to get out of here, I think to myself, but the next second, someone is pulling on my arm, and I lash out, burning their flesh.
“Son of a hag!” the woman yells. I’m hit with recognition when I look at her face.
“Odeyssa?” Her face is laced with pain, and I can already see the blisters forming on her arm.
“Obviously. What the hell was that for?” she questions.
“Sorry, I didn’t know it was you,” I admit, my eyes searching around for an escape. Nerves coarse through me as questions play in my mind.
Was she in on it? My abduction?
Slowly backing away, I make a run for it. Sidestepping others, I think about going back to Licorice, but I can’t bring him into this mess—or the sweet couple that found it in their hearts to help me.
Unfortunately for me, I end up turned around and going down a dead-end alleyway. Getting double-fucked, Odeyssa was right on my tail, along with a guy I’ve never seen before.
“Kallie, what’s going on?” She holds her hands up in surrender, but the guy behind her doesn’t make any moves, standing stiff as a board.
“Just leave me alone, and we won’t have any trouble.” The threat is present in my tone, but she doesn’t back down.
“What are you talking about? You’ve been gone for months. Just disappeared off the face of the realm, and nobody has seen or heard from you since! We all thought you were dead!”
I was. On the inside. When I don’t respond, she takes that opportunity to study me, really study me, and when our eyes lock again, hurt and anguish sit in hers.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I say, but my voice cracks, and all the emotions I’ve harbored deep inside spill out with the words.
“Kallie—”
“Don’t!” I interrupt. “Just don’t.” Seeing her has been enough to trudge up all the memories I’ve kept buried underneath all the betrayal. “I can’t trust you.”
“Of course you can! You know me.”
“No. I don’t.” My head tilts to the side, and my features pinch together in anguish. “I’m not sure I even know myself anymore.”
“Let me prove it to you.”
I scoff at her suggestion. “How?”
“Truth serum. My dad gets it from one of the shops here. Let me take it, and you can ask me anything you want,” she tells me.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why would you try to get me to believe you, to trust you. What’s in it for you?”
She looks at me like she doesn’t know me at all, and she doesn’t. Not really. We spent one lunch together. I know more things about Licorice than I do about her.
“Absolutely nothing.” She looks hurt at the innuendo, but I don’t have it in me to care.
Turning on her heel, the guy follows her closely, but I keep a reasonable distance between us. The guy goes into one of the shops to retrieve the serum, and we wait outside patiently.
“How do I know that’s the right serum?” A valid question.
“Want to try some and find out?” It’s rhetorical as she downs the whole thing. My mouth pops open slightly in shock, but I quickly recover.
Going back to our little alleyway, she waits expectantly for me to start asking her whatever it is I need to know.
Peppering her with questions, she doesn’t miss a beat when answering. And with each one, my resolve slowly starts chipping away.
“Have you seen Callum in the time I’ve been gone?”
Without hesitation, she says, “No.”
“Do you know where I’ve been?”
She lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Nope,” she says, popping the P.
“Did you have anything to do with what happened to me?”
Rolling her eyes as if she is bored, she gives me another loose-lipped response. “Nada.”
She examines her nails as if this is the biggest waste of her time, but screw her.
She doesn’t know what I’ve been through.
Or maybe she does. For all I know, that wasn’t even the right serum.
Thinking of a question that she wouldn’t want to answer, a smirk quips at the corner of my lips.
“What is the secret you’ve been keeping from your father when you leave the castle? ”
Her gaze swings to me, and I see the magic fully in action. She tries to fight it, sealing her lips until they turn a lighter shade, but she can’t hold it back, and she lets it all out.
“I come here, to Excidium, to see Atticus, because my father would never approve. He wants an arranged marriage for me. He doesn’t care what I want, who I want to be with.
So I sneak out as often as I can to be with him and live out a false sense of the fairy tale I’ll never be able to have.
” She twists her head so fast I’m surprised her neck didn’t break, looking at who I’m now assuming is Atticus, who is leaning against the side of the building with the biggest shit-eating grin on his face.
Turning back to me, she looks mortified. “Are you satisfied?” The question is for me to answer, but my response gets lodged in my throat, and I have an overwhelming sense of appreciation. So I nod my head, staring at her like she’s the light I’ve needed in this never-ending sea of darkness.
Odeyssa pulls me in for a hug, and my body locks up, stiffening under the foreign touch before I’m sinking into her embrace, wrapping my arms around her waist.
Pulling away, she squishes my cheeks with her hands. “Now dry those tears, buttercup. Don’t let anyone see you falter.” My cheeks push against her palms in an attempt to smile. I must look ridiculous because Odeyssa throws her head back in a full-belly laugh and lets go.
As I wipe the tears from my eyes with the sleeve of my shirt, she says, “This is Atticus. He looks all mean and burly, but he’s actually a forest bun.”
I’ll never not think about Benny when a forest bun is mentioned, and a little ember sparks within me to think if Odeyssa is safe, maybe they are too.
“I’m Kallie. I’ll let you know if it’s a pleasure to meet you,” I retort, looking at Atticus. He’s quite a bit taller than Dessa, standing around six feet to her five-four. His sandy-blond hair goes well with his cobalt eyes, and he has a very lean but muscular frame.
“Noted.” A man of very few words. I like it.
“Well, why don’t we get you back to Nefarium? I’m sure everyone will be excited to see you,” Odeyssa suggests, but my stomach falls to my ass, and I start shaking my head relentlessly.
“No. No. No. I can’t. I’m not going back there. Anywhere but there.” My words are choppy, anxiety prominent in each one. If they don’t find me soon, that will be the next place they’ll check.
Clearly seeing the panic written all over my face, Odeyssa offers an alternative. “Okay, okay. We don’t have to go there. Why don’t you just stay with Atticus for a few nights?” Atticus whips his head to hers in question, but she serves him a pointed look, hand on her hip, and he succumbs.
Beaming, she turns back to me. “Great!” She claps her hands. “It’s settled.”
Atticus’s house is a small cottage. A stone wall—about hip height—fences in the property, and a concrete walkway leads us to the front door.
When we enter, it smells like a fire was recently burning, the smoke settling in the fireplace proof of that.
A small loveseat and chair take up the majority of the small living area, but something about the way the dust has settled in some areas makes me think they haven’t been used in a while.
Under the coffee table rests a mahogany rug that somehow really ties the place together.
Just a glance away, I note a small bathroom off the entryway and another room just to the left.
In the far right corner, there is a kitchen that’s only made up of one countertop, a stove, and a single-door fridge.
Not much room to make more than a sandwich and certainty not enough room for more than one person to do anything useful.
Atticus doesn’t say anything as he makes his way over to said kitchen and pulls a can out of the fridge. Uncomfortable, I stay standing by the door while Odeyssa makes herself at home on the couch.
“You can sit down, you know,” she states.
Tentatively, I sit in the chair, placing my hands in my lap.
“So, now that I spilled my guts, it’s your turn.” Her smile is wicked, and I don’t know what kind of adventure she’s hoping I’ll give her. There’s nothing grand about my time away, only heartache.
My eyes bounce between her and Atticus, who is leaning against the counter. Sighing, she turns to look at him. “Would you mind giving us a few minutes?” Rolling his eyes, he doesn’t say anything and dismisses himself out the front door.
“Is that the only door?” I wait to ask until the door clicks shut.
“It is,” she says with caution, eyeing me suspiciously. Letting out a long, shaky breath, my hands rub up and down my legs before I’m able to meet her gaze.
All at once, everything I’ve been holding in spills out, flowing with every agonizing detail since the day I left Nefarium.
There were details I chose to leave out—like the fact that I’m the princess of Astralis.
Even with all that’s happened, it’s something that I haven’t been able to come to terms with myself.
At some point, our eyes locked, and I haven’t been able to look away, pushing forth every emotion I’ve been carrying.
Odeyssa never seemed like one to cry over much, but when her eyes turn glossy and the tears break the surface, her gaze doesn’t waver.
She grips my hands in hers, letting me know that I’m not alone when I start choking on my words.
When it’s all over, after I’ve finally let nearly every demon out of its cage, Odeyssa consoles me the best she can, repeating over and over again that I’m safe.
I keep telling myself I am, but maybe the hard truth is it’s not the monsters hunting me down that I should be scared of.
It’s myself.