CHAPTER FORTY-TWO #3
She seemed worried, but I felt momentarily weightless. Who knew escaping certain death could be rejuvenating?
There was, of course, something sinister lurking at the edge of my mind.
It was a darkness, thick and heavy, holding onto the sharper edges of the memories I’d been fashioned with during this whole ordeal.
But I currently had no qualms keeping them at bay.
That was a problem for a future version of myself, I decided.
This Alyssum needed to focus on getting herself back into the Ugly Tankard, where she could earn a modest living, and perhaps even save up enough to afford a room of her own.
A place she could furnish, and paint the walls to her own specifications, and hold her own small gatherings with close friends.
Catrin and Milo would be invited, so of course Berig and Vayen would join.
Winnie wouldn’t hesitate to invade any gathering she so much as caught wind of, which meant Ekko wouldn’t be far behind.
I allowed a deep, calming inhale to fill the recesses of my lungs, the very thought of this future Alyssum and all the things I imagined her to have blanketing me with ease and anticipation.
Maybe all of this had happened for a reason, I thought as Haize finally emerged from the kitchens to accept Vayen’s payment and gratitude for the room. Soon enough, this would be little more than a bad dream. A ridiculous tale that nearly ended in disaster, until wolf Vayen came to my rescue.
As long as they find another way to lift the curse and save Milo.
I swallowed the unprompted thought, turning instead towards Haize with a moody tilt of my head. I placed my unbound wrists atop the bar, all but showing them off as they peeked from beneath the long sleeves of Vayen’s jacket.
“See you’ve found your freedom,” Haize commented, his thunderous voice sparing not one bone in my body of a slight vibration.
“No thanks to you.”
The noise that escaped Haize was gruff and vaguely disapproving, but I spotted the quirk of his tanned, leathery lip, even in the shadows of his mustache.
Vayen attempted to disguise her laugh with an ill-timed cough, but she ended up on the receiving end of Haize’s narrowed eyes regardless.
“Get outta my tavern, you two. Troublesome lot,” Haize said, his beady eyes glistening in the candlelight. He dipped his head by way of goodbye, spilling long black hair over his shoulders before turning on his heel and disappearing into the kitchens.
Vayen shrugged the saddlebags up her shoulders as she headed for the door.
“No idea what he’s on about,” she said, eyebrows raised. “I think we were perfectly pleasant patrons.”
It was more comfortable to ride Rummy this way, thighs straddling his oversized body and calves no longer aching under the exertion of riding sidesaddle.
Not only was I capable of remaining upright all on my own—which meant my middle was noticeably absent Vayen’s unyielding arm—but I also had the benefit of my back being positioned right up against the hearth that was her stomach.
Between her warmth and the fur-lined jacket she’d once again insisted I wear, the woodland’s crisp chill hadn’t stood a chance. I was practically toasty.
“Comfortable?” Vayen asked.
That was the only downside of our new position. Her lips were only a whisper from my ear, and whenever she spoke, her breath curled around my skin, sending unwelcome shivers straight into my stomach.
“Mm,” I managed with a nod. “Thank you for the pants.”
“You’re very welcome.”
I held a fistful of Rummy’s mane despite his width providing plenty of stability.
Not only did I find comfort in the coarseness of his sun-bleached strands, but I also had to admit I was less afraid of the beast than I had been days prior; after all, he hadn’t hesitated when those bandits were after us.
It was difficult to reconcile the memory of Rummy stomping that man’s head into the dirt with the budding affection I now felt knowing he did what he could to protect Vayen—and perhaps even me.
Our voices had been stolen, the easy if not awkward conversation I’d expected falling victim to the eerie atmosphere of the forest’s chill and my wandering thoughts.
The lightness that had overcome me was dissipating, for reasons I either could not or would not acknowledge.
I no longer had to cross the Threshold, I no longer had to give my life to some Goddess’ trial, and I was no longer being held against my will.
But the hope I guarded fiercely had nonetheless been shrinking, assaulted by Vayen’s grounding scent and the thoughtfulness that strangely peppered her more horrific actions as of late.
Why had she discarded the lullawort, effectively ending her ability to put me to sleep?
Why had she bought me my favorite cookies?
Why had she climbed into bed alongside me when I’d all but asked?
Why had she been unable to rest after our assault, staving off sleep for days on end until she knew I was okay?
And, mostly important, why was it my scream, and my being in danger, that finally made her whole again after all of these years?
But as we neared the crossroads seared into my memory—to the left, Grenythwood Village, and to the right, the Threshold—I knew those questions would be too dangerous to ask.
Their answers had the potential to melt my resolve, to send me on the path I had full-heartedly rejected, so I pressed my lips together tightly, forcing my mind to the future so that it might cease its fruitless wandering.
The Ugly Tankard, made home by Winnie’s kindness and Ekko’s friendship.
Catrin’s full-body hugs and muddy skirts.
Milo’s untamable hair, probably slathered with slug slime, and that toothy grin.
And Grenythwood Village itself, its dilapidated, charming gloom that somehow, despite all logic and reason, felt safer than Lunamor Castle ever had.
That is where we were headed, I reminded myself. I didn’t need to worry. Not anymore.
Rummy’s breath came in harsh snuffles, summoning clouds that evaporated into the cool air before my eyes.
His hooves clopped steadily, a deadened sound against the frozen dirt road.
The staccato of his steps didn’t echo off the trees, but instead was swallowed by the pronounced silence of the forest, thick and insistent and doing very little to hold my attention.
I would expect the wood to be coming alive now that the sun’s rays speared through the canopy of naked branches overhead.
But our only companion was the ironbark trees, gnarled and looming, with only their errant creaking permeating the stillness that consumed us.
It wasn’t until we rounded the bend and I laid eyes on the crossroads that my heart seized, its beat skipping then quickening then skipping again.
My eyes had gone frantic, uncontrollably flitting between the two paths.
To the left, there was safety. Catrin’s embrace and Ekko’s stew and the tavern that had become my home, my safe place.
But I could not control my thoughts as they wandered to the right—the path where bandits had descended upon us, where I had been attacked, where I’d almost lost everything I had been trying to build.
With each clop of Rummy’s hooves, my mind found footing in the fear spreading through my stomach like a sickness.
What if this had all been a trick, and at the last moment, Vayen intended to veer Rummy to the right and force me into that wall of fog?
Or, what if it hadn’t been a trick at all, but now that we were nearing the outcome of her choice, she wouldn’t be able to keep her word and take me home?
And then it was Catrin’s words tumbling through the theatre of my mind:
“We came to our conclusions separately.”
“I barely spoke a word of my speech before Vayen told me she regretted the whole thing.”
It didn’t make any sense. Catrin had implored me to ask Vayen what had altered her perspective, but once more I’d found myself frightened to hear the answer.
My grip on Rummy’s mane tightened and he whinnied softly in response.
I was little more than shallow inhalations.
That familiar metallic taste, the narrowing of my throat.
A tension in my core that could not be dissuaded, not with focus or words or breathing.
They were the precursors to panic, pulling at the loose threads of my willful ignorance, and I was helpless.
I wanted to tap the dip in my neck, or press a thumb into the opposite palm, but the tidal wave was too strong, dragging me down, down, down, until fear was all that was left.
“Stop,” I whispered at first, before repeating more loudly, “Stop!”
As though he were under my command, Rummy lowered himself to the ground. Neither he, nor Vayen, made any attempt to dissuade me as I awkwardly descended to the forest floor, gasping for frosted breaths that did little to calm.
“Alyssum,” Vayen called, gracefully maneuvering her leg over Rummy’s width before hopping down.
She made a move to come closer, but I held up a palm that stopped her in her tracks.
“Alyssum,” she said again, despite the way I shook my head back and forth, denying her attempts at capturing my attention. “You don’t have to be afraid.”
“I don’t trust you,” I blurted out, turning my back and crossing my arms over my middle. “How can you expect me to?”
“There’s nothing I can say to fix this.” Vayen’s voice cracked beneath the weight of her emotion. The palpability of her pain was the only thing that kept me rooted to the spot.