CHAPTER TEN
VAYEN
Ididn’t know if we would ever find her. Even as we wandered through the unfamiliar streets of Lunamor, I questioned my interpretation of the vision I’d received, and I wasn’t the only one.
“Remind me again why we’re here?” Winnie’s protest was weak compared to the excitement doubling the size of her eyes. Each shop we passed held some contraption or good she insisted would change the face of the Ugly Tankard.
The grunt that escaped Berig was one of agreement. His lack of enthusiasm was even more palpable than Winnie’s thinly veiled glee.
“I’m here because I’m supposed to be,” I said with a heaving sigh. “You’re here because you insisted on following me.”
“And yer sure the dream wench said Lunamor?”
I was doubting Berig’s ability to sound even less enthused than he already did.
“The birdcage was teal, and the clouds surrounding it were orange,” I said for the twelfth time.
“Teal and orange. Do you know another kingdom with those colors, Berig?” His silence was accompanied by a slight sneer. “And don’t call her a dream wench.”
Berig, who took up twice as much space as the average man, parted the growing crowd as we strolled. “Apologies, Videa. The faceless woman couldn’t’a been more clear.”
“Need I remind you both that no one forced you to—”
“Could you imagine a set of these in the courtyard?” Winnie exclaimed as she thrust herself into an enormous throne chiseled from a boulder. “Not quite as comfortable as I’d like, but you have to admit it would catch the eye.”
“It’s the sole tavern in the village,” I reminded her with a raised eyebrow.
“Not like it doesn’t already stand out,” Berig mumbled.
“Perhaps,” Winnie said as she pushed off the throne. The bright red wisps of hair escaping the bun atop her head made her look every bit as wild as she acted. “But can an establishment as fine as mine be too eye-catching? I think not!”
I sidestepped buzzing villagers preparing for their celebration, cobblestone scuffing beneath my boots.
Winnie and Berig followed in step, both drawing the occasional eye due to their size.
I wasn’t slight myself, but compared to the two of them, I may as well have been half-grown.
Berig’s rather yellow features—from hair to beard to cloak—and light brown eyes camouflaged our group well enough.
He could have been Lunamorian in another life.
Perhaps a rather large Lunamorian, I thought as yet another child gawked at his stature.
Dissimilarly, Winnie and I had to avoid making eye contact with the villagers; my silver-greens and her dark blues were abnormal by this kingdom’s standards, and if anyone were to notice…
“Can you at least describe the girl we’re seekin’?”
“I’ve already told you all I know,” I repeated, though it couldn’t have been what they wanted to hear.
I didn’t enjoy being secretive, least of all with them, but the visions seemed to have been tailored for my mind and my mind alone.
They felt personal in a way I found too difficult to describe, and so I chose not to try.
“You’re not the least bit concerned at the lack of Sorans?” Winnie’s curiosity surrounding Lunamor was beginning to wane, and I couldn’t blame her. “I’ve heard they’re not allowed within the kingdom at all.”
“Neither are we, and yet…” I gestured around us without bothering to hide my irritation.
Winnie’s sigh was light, but audible. Her attempt at submitting to the journey was measurable when compared to Berig’s, but I would not hold it against him. Not after what he had sacrificed to protect the last of the Videa.
“No time was wasted traveling,” I insisted.
“If we continue, we’ll find her.” I sounded more confident than I felt.
For three days we had scoured the streets, and I had never been so consumed with doubt; had our journey been in vain?
Were the visions nothing more than a too-quiet mind attempting to sort through immeasurable loss?
Was I grasping so desperately for an end to our suffering that I dreamt the whisperings of a solution that never existed to begin with?
Had I put our lives in danger due to my growing madness?
I lunged before I could comprehend the movement.
A high-pitched yelp, the scraping of wood, and suddenly I was catching a fallen barrel that was substantially heavier than it looked.
Far heavier than a woman my size should have been able to lift on her own.
My gaze darted to Berig, whose mind was only a moment behind my own.
I buckled my knees with a loud groan, as though I would be crushed any moment, allowing Berig to play the rescuer.
He righted the barrel with ease, much to the pleasure of the cooper.
“You’ve been sent from the stars, you have!” He clasped Berig on the elbow, dark eyes wrinkled with glee. “You not only saved my barrel—you have also saved a life!” The cooper dropped to his knobby knees, grasping at my forearms to help me stand.
I kept my attention on the cobblestone, disallowing the man a proper look at my eyes. “Felt quite sturdy. I’m sure the barrel would have survived—”
“Not unscathed, my dear. And these have been crafted to our lord, the king’s own specifications for the Feast of Comets. It would have been quite… unfortunate… had it been damaged.” He drew a shaky breath, throat bobbing with a swallow.
My nostrils flared involuntarily, just as I knew Berig’s and Winnie’s had. The cooper had suddenly perfumed the space with something sour and metallic. A scent we were all too familiar with.
Terror.
The three of us shared a look before assessing the barrel once more.
Its wood was dark and aged, and it had been abnormally heavy for its size.
Further, the contents within had shifted familiarly when I’d buckled my legs.
I’d have wagered it was filled with some sort of liquid, but that wouldn’t account for its heft.
The cooper followed Berig’s gaze, and with a small step, placed himself between us and the barrel. The smile that twitched his lips no longer met his eyes.
“Please, allow me to make amends. My husband has crafted some miniature bauble boxes that you mistresses might fancy!”
Before he could disappear into his shop, I raised a palm. “That won’t be necessary. We’d best be on our way.”
The cooper looked to Berig, undoubtedly seeking his rescuer’s input, but Berig only sucked on his teeth in response. The cooper ignored Winnie entirely, as her attention had been grasped by a beautifully carved trunk visible through the window.
With a perfunctory bow of my head, I turned away from the cooper’s shop.
“Have a merry feast, indeed!” he called after us. Despite his jovial farewell, I had the lingering sense he was grateful for our departure.
“That was odd,” Winnie mumbled.
“What d’you reckon was in the barrel, Videa? Thing weighed about a ton.”
“I’d rather not speculate.” Whatever it may have been, it was none of our concern. Whether we were here to save the pale Soran girl or meet someone who might know her whereabouts, it was imperative I maintain my focus, otherwise I could miss—
Glacial blue eyes and a shock of ice-blonde hair.
What I was afraid of missing, and also what I had spotted a few paces down the cobblestone.
Striking against the growing sea of Lunamorians, visible even beneath his raised hood, and heading straight for us.
Blood of Sor, indeed, yet not a young woman in need of my assistance.
If they both resided in Lunamor, they had to know one another. Perhaps they were related?
“A Soran Scholar,” Winnie hissed. “See the purple? Same as that nutter Whick.”
“He’s lookin’ at you, Videa.”
And so he was. Those piercing eyes, so bright they appeared to glow, were locked onto my own. I was grateful the Sorans held no ill will against my people, for there were very few in Lunamor able to recognize our kind, and he was one of them.
“I’ll admit I had my doubts,” Winnie said, hands deep in her cloak pockets. “I know we’ve not a wealth of information when it comes to this place, but I was quite certain Sorans weren’t permitted within the wall.”
“If there’s one,” Berig’s deep voice rumbled beside me, “there might indeed be more.” It seemed this sighting, if nothing else, could rejuvenate our spirits.
“He’s no threat to us. With that blasted feast looming, he’s the least of our concerns.” I said, though my attention did not waver.
“Surprised they lowered their gate long enough to let ‘im in.”
“Sorans roaming about… Hollows attending the feast… maybe Lunamor isn’t quite as siloed as they claim,” Winnie chimed in. “Grateful we haven’t seen a Hollow yet, mind you. Diminished or not, I’d rather avoid them entirely.”
I could barely make out their chatter as the Soran Scholar neared.
The corners of his mouth were buried beneath a formidable beard, yet I sensed their humorous bracket.
Those frosted, piercing eyes seemed to bore through me, twinkling with a one-sided understanding that I wanted to reach out and grasp with both of my hands.
He was preoccupied by what appeared to be a mountain of baked goods with legs following behind him.
“The castle is just up ahead,” the Soran said as they passed us by.
But only a small fraction of my mind comprehended him, for the world around me had quieted all at once, its chorus replaced by the rushing of my blood and pounding of my heart.
Static crawled the length of my spine, muscles tensing uncomfortably.
I wanted to close off my throat, to stop breathing entirely, but that was not an option.
Instead, I gulped in air hungrily as though I’d never breathed a day in my life.
Chest straining, unable to grapple with the sudden weight of an unexplainable resonance.
I froze in place, which did nothing to cull the rapid expansion of heat over my skin. A gut-pulling, pulse-stuttering sensation. Helpless.
“Vayen?”
“Videa, what’s wrong?”
This feeling… this scent…
This was not happening. This could not be happening.
As though I’d relinquished control of my body, my head snapped to the mountain of bread with legs.
A woman mere inches shorter than myself, her gait clumsy beneath her task.
The grey cloak that shrouded her was the same shade as the guard I had bribed for entry into the kingdom.
A Sentinel, if I wasn’t mistaken. I could not make out any of her veiled features, but there was no need to.
We had found the woman we sought, of that I was certain. It was her scent clouding my senses with an irrevocable knowing I had no right to feel. And that meant my ruination was all but certain.
Fucking depths.