CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
ALYSSUM
It was time to admit defeat. I’d been attempting to enjoy my first day off from tavern work by rereading the Soran anthology Catrin had loaned me, but my wayward mind refused to cooperate.
I had reviewed the same passage a third time over and still wasn’t any the wiser as to its contents.
Instead of focusing on the words, a very familiar set of silver-green eyes continued to flood the theatre of my mind.
They had been a charming shade behind the bar, but looking down at that pitiful man had transformed them entirely.
In the days since the incident, those half-lidded eyes had frequently interrupted my thoughts, and whenever they did it was only a matter of time before blackness swallowed them whole.
Winnie did her best to convince me that Vayen’s actions were quite normal for someone in her position.
I wasn’t able to glean what exactly that position was, but it seemed to me she was something of a protector in the village.
I recalled how Merl had retreated into the alleyway when Milo had wielded Vayen’s name; he was clearly intimidated by her, and the way he submitted even while his companion’s life was in danger only underscored that fact.
But there was something Merl said that day by the bridge that I found myself pondering:
“Vayen’s got eyes on her?”
It would seem so. Winnie had insisted that Vayen decided to leave the tavern just before Kroul laid his hand on me—“How else would she have intervened so quickly?”—but I hadn’t seen any evidence to support her claim.
And how had Winnie known I was the only person capable of dispelling that rage?
Winnie hadn’t been impressed with my word choice, but I was intimately familiar with that emotion.
The stillness that preceded it, and the coiled stomach not far behind.
Father’s rage. Linus’ rage. Most often directed at me.
Thankfully, Vayen’s fury had been unwaveringly fixated on Kroul.
I could have imagined it, but her gaze even seemed to soften when reaching my face.
Once again, Winnie attempted to dismiss my inquiry—“Vayen needed you to be unharmed. She knows Milo has taken a liking to you… he’d be a mess if you so much as stubbed your toe on a barrel!
” Honestly, Vayen nearly murdered a man on a tavern floor because Milo and I had become friendly?
It was all a bit too convenient for my liking.
Perhaps that was why I had little ability to think of anything else.
With a sigh, I closed the anthology and pushed it to the opposite end of my room’s table.
I was perched on one of the stools, gazing out into the village with downturned lips as I surveyed the gloom.
Villagers peppered the streets, all drawing their cloaks tight to ward off the morning’s biting chill.
Hazy spears of sunlight fought to pierce the thick canopy created by those massive trees.
When frost began to creep towards the center of the window, my breath having fogged the majority of the glass, I knew it was time to stoke the hearth.
I tossed another log onto the now-timid fire, stabbing at the bark unsympathetically with an iron poker.
Sparks leapt into the air, followed by a wave of warmth as flames eagerly licked the bark of the fresh log.
I stared into the flickering light, an almost meditative state overcoming me as I observed the fire’s dance.
It was warm in my room compared to the bitter wood.
Comfortable. Cozy, even, now that I had grown used to my surroundings.
I didn’t know how long I would be allowed to stay, or when Catrin’s generosity to pay for my lodgings would wane. Speaking of payment…
I reached for the coin purse on my bedside table, and for the umpteenth time, tossed it into the air just to hear the clinking noise the silver made when I caught it.
It was the first time in my life I had earned coin of my very own.
I intended to offer payment to Catrin in return for her kindness, but she hadn’t been by the tavern since she’d heard of the incident. Perhaps I owed her a visit.
I stood on the Ugly Tankard’s veranda for only the second time since I’d fled Grenythwood Village.
The air was crisp and easy on my lungs, smelling of damp moss and woodsmoke.
I shoved gloved hands deeper into the pockets of my Sentinel’s cloak, observing as my exhales summoned their own drifting clouds.
An elderly woman shuffled by the tavern, casting only a sparing glance my way.
Her wrinkled palms were settled on the backs of two children that walked before her.
One of them, a girl, peered at me with large, unblinking eyes.
The expression on her face reminded me of the children who had been playing on the porch my first day in Grenythwood.
When the old woman caught her staring, she mumbled something under her breath, and the girl’s attention snapped forward.
Something seemed off about the people here.
As if a blanket woven of suspicion and loss had been draped over the village, disallowing polite smiles and friendly chatter.
I saw not one person moseying through the streets with nowhere to be.
Everyone walked purposefully, their movements sharp and hurried.
I pressed my lips together as I questioned myself.
The tavern was warm and safe. With Merl and his companion as a notable exception, the patrons had been relatively welcoming—well, more welcoming than not, at the very least. Not to mention Winnie and Ekko, who seemed more than happy to keep me company.
Ekko had even volunteered to train me in the kitchen so that she might warrant a day off herself at some point in the future.
She’d insisted her citrus peel cookies rivaled Lunamor’s, a claim I couldn’t have doubted more, though her goal had been achieved—my interest was piqued.
Perhaps I was getting ahead of myself by trying to leave on my own, and it would seem I wasn’t the only one harboring that thought.
“Going somewhere?” Winnie asked, having suddenly appeared by my side.
I startled, clutching my chest. “I didn’t hear the door.”
“Apologies. Ekko saw you slip out here.” Winnie rested her elbows on the railing of the veranda.
She was without a jacket despite the chill, though the leather apron that wrapped around her body was thick.
Her red hair’s loudness had only the lemon hue of her tunic to combat the sea of dark greens and greys of the wood.
She looked out over the courtyard just as two women in black cloaks headed our way.
Their cloaks were finer than any I’d seen in Grenythwood, lined with fur and silk.
They were deep in a conversation I couldn’t make out.
I watched the women as they neared, stepping closer to Winnie so that the path to the Ugly Tankard’s door was clear. But they stopped at a nearby tree stump to continue their conversation instead.
“So, where are you off to?” Winnie asked casually.
“I was contemplating visiting Catrin,” I admitted. “It’s the only place I know of.”
I hoped that didn’t sound as pathetic as it felt.
“Ah.” Winnie clicked her tongue against her teeth. I could tell there was something more she wanted to say, but it seemed to stick in her throat.
“Is that all right?” I asked, studying her features in the hopes that I might uncover the truth of her inquiry.
She rotated to shift her weight onto one elbow and face me. “It might not be the best time to go running off on your own.”
“Oh? Why is that?”
An empty expression eased her features, and those dark blue eyes seemed to look through me as she said, “There’s a bit of an event happening tonight. Some people will be visiting the village, and it would be best to stay out of sight.”
Everything intensified as a layer of unease slithered over my skin. I felt almost outside of myself when I asked, “From beyond the Threshold?”
“No,” Winnie said quickly. “Nothing like that. It’s just not the sort of thing you’d want to get caught up in, if you can avoid it.”
Nothing like the Feast of Comets, then.
There it was again. That ache, core-deep and burrowing deeper still at the very thought of Lunamor.
I could not allow it further foothold, so I gently brought myself back to the present by fumbling with the coin in my pocket; at least whoever arrived in the village wouldn’t be a danger to me, I reminded myself. The only danger now was my own mind.
“I haven’t left the Ugly Tankard since I arrived. Did you know that?” I said, swallowing thickly.
“I may have noticed.”
“Don’t you find that odd?”
Winnie hummed under her breath for a moment, pivoting back towards the courtyard. “I don’t. Ekko was much the same when she crossed.”
Come to think of it, I hadn’t seen Ekko leave the tavern either. She and Winnie had chambers on the topmost level, and I had only ever witnessed her in the halls heading up or into the kitchen.
“I’m afraid to leave,” I admitted with a sigh. I withdrew a gloved hand from my pocket to tap at the base of my neck, steadying myself. “And the longer I don’t, the greater that fear becomes. I didn’t cross the Threshold to exit one cage and enter another.”
There was a long, poignant pause before Winnie spoke again.
“I suppose if you’re visiting Master Catrin…
” She dropped her head to her forearm, resting it there.
Winnie’s posture appeared rather defeated as she muttered, “Go. But be quick about it—this isn’t a day for dillydallying.
If you’re not back by midday, I’ll come looking for you, and I can promise you won’t enjoy the tasks awaiting your return. ”
It was unfamiliar to be worried after by someone not in my father’s employ. For someone to look after me, just for the sake of it. To feel cared for.