19 #2

“L-look up,” he ordered, gesturing sharply. Swallowing the retort that rose in my throat, I complied, lifting my chin so the glow caught my features. “If you’re hiding under a layer of concealment, we’ll know.”

The men inspected my eyes, my skin, even the bare flesh of my hands as though I might suddenly reveal some wicked truth.

Meanwhile, Erebus looked as if he wanted to flay their fingers for every inch of me they dared to touch.

When they moved to Erebus, I felt the tension between us shift.

He lifted his chin without a word, his towering figure suddenly imposing under their scrutiny.

The lantern light glinted off his black armor, and I could see the obvious flicker of unease in their eyes.

They didn’t make him remove his gloves, I noted.

“They’re both clear,” the leader muttered, gesturing to the gate. “Go on in, then. You’ll leave at dawn with the rest of us.”

“With the rest of you?” Erebus asked carefully. His voice was low and calm, but it carried an edge that made the men uncomfortable. “And where, exactly, would we follow you?”

“Go on your own, then,” the leader offered, exasperated. “But don’t expect us to show you the way. We have enough on our hands, and you seem plenty capable.”

Erebus and I must have looked utterly confused. The men squinted at us, bewildered.

“Don’t you know?”

“Um…” I trailed off, uncertain. I had no idea how to respond to a question like that.

“The Light Bringer is having a grand celebration to praise the return of dreams,” the scraggly man said, rubbing his hairy chin. “Don’t tell me you were asleep and missed the good news.”

I laughed before I could stop myself.

If he only knew.

Unfortunately, Erebus didn’t appreciate the irony. I caught the clench in his jaw, the tightening of his hand around his pommel. If I had to guess, he very much wanted to punch this hapless man in his face.

“We traveled a long way,” I offered quickly, before Erebus did something rash. “We’d be glad to follow you to the capital tomorrow.”

“Might as well. Everyone’s gone already, save for a few families and our imprisoned Corrupt,” another man added, nervously shifting from foot to foot. “No point leaving now, anyway. The roads are dangerous after dark, even for folks like you.”

The scraggly man smiled, unaware that Erebus likely wanted to strangle him. “Make for the inn. There’ll be food and lodging there. A warm fire and some spiced cider, if you’re lucky.”

The gatekeepers stepped aside, waving us in without further explanation.

The inn was an inviting sight, boasting two floors, a well-kept stable, and thoughtfully placed ribbons and winter garland as decor.

Upon closer inspection, the ribbons were fraying and the garland was shedding needles over the ground, but it was still a lovely touch.

I’d certainly never seen buildings decorated with such care in Norhavellis.

I pushed open the weathered doors, the jingle of a bell above the frame cutting through the hum of voices inside.

Erebus followed close behind, his shadow stretching long across the floor.

The conversation faltered as curious eyes darted our way.

Erebus’s hood was up, but would they really know he was the Shadow Bringer if they clearly saw his face?

He’d been a horned monster in Norhavellis’s storybooks, but perhaps he appeared differently in other village records.

Not to mention how striking his moon-white hair was.

I’d never seen anything like it. Keeping my chin held high, I strode toward the nearest table, a cozy spot by the hearth.

Erebus trailed me, cloak swishing against the stone floor.

As soon as we were seated, conversation picked up again. The patrons had no idea who had just walked into their inn. They’d merely been giving us a cursory glance.

I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. A muscular man wearing cracked eyeglasses approached our table, busily wiping two mugs with a thin washcloth.

“Food, lodging?” the man inquired, glancing between us.

“What about spiced cider? We still have plenty—if you partake, that is.” He said the last part almost hopefully, wagging his eyebrows at me.

“Better for a lovely lady to enjoy it before it sours—what with us traveling to Istralla on the morrow.”

My stomach gurgled at the suggestion. We’d been traveling for hours without food or drink, and I was famished. I was sure Erebus was, too.

“Yes, please,” I nearly groaned, unclasping my cloak and hanging it behind my cushioned chair. “Two of everything.”

“Except for the lodging,” Erebus added, pointedly interlacing his fingers through mine atop the table. “We will share one room.”

The innkeeper nodded happily, giving us a crooked grin before setting the clean mugs atop our table and returning with a pitcher of steaming cider. “Have as much as you’d like. Mixes well with the elixir, too, if you’re sensitive to the taste.”

Sensitive to the taste?

Elixir wasn’t exactly delicious, but it wasn’t rancid, either. Eden and I had only ever poured it into our tea to mask that we hadn’t taken it.

“Has the taste changed?” I asked. The innkeeper gave me an odd look. I corrected myself quickly, adding, “We’re from a faraway village. I was only curious if the elixir tasted different between regions.”

The man’s face soured, as if he was recalling a particularly bad memory. “You tell me,” he suggested, yanking a small bottle from a hidden shirt pocket. “Get ready to plug your nose.”

I held in a gasp; his elixir was nothing like the amber-hued liquid we took in Norhavellis.

It was cloudy and gray, filled with floating particles that looked a bit too close to phlegm for my liking.

When he uncorked it, I nearly gagged. It smelled faintly of blood.

Erebus looked equally ill. He leaned forward, eagerly taking a drink of cider straight from the pitcher.

“Disgusting, isn’t it? Given your reaction, I take it that our batches must taste different. Consider me jealous.” The innkeeper laughed, tucking the bottle back into his shirt pocket. “But thanks to our glorious Light Bringer, we won’t need to suffer it much longer.”

Erebus nearly spit out his drink.

What?

“We’d love to know more about that, if you please.…” I laid a few golden coins on the table, letting them glint in the firelight. It was more than enough for food, drink, lodging, and a bit of information. “We’re looking to learn about the celebration you’re traveling to.”

“You must be passing through from very distant lands,” the innkeeper muttered, pocketing my offering. “Plenty of talk about the Light Bringer these days. He’s promised to end the Corruption once and for all—says he’s got the power to undo the curse itself.”

I leaned forward, completely enrapt. “How?”

“He says dreams will be restored for good. No more demons, no more Corruption.” He scratched at his chin, unease flickering across his face.

“Some worry it isn’t natural to start dreaming again without the Weavers, at least if you believe the old stories.

But the Weavers haven’t been seen in Noctis for centuries. Maybe they’re dead.”

My stomach tightened. “And what about the elixir?”

“It’ll be gone,” he said with a grin. “Light Bringer’s decree. No more vials for anyone after his celebration in Istralla. We are fortunate to have such a powerful man as our king.”

Erebus’s hand gripped the edge of the table, but he said nothing.

I forced a bashful smile. “Um, also—what year is it?”

Instead of gaping at me as though I were a fool, the innkeeper simply offered a sad smile.

“Funny how we used to care about such things. Now a new year hardly seems meaningful on the scale of eternity.” He fidgeted with his glasses, peering around the inn as if he could discern his patrons’ thoughts.

“Hmm. If I had to guess, it is the Age of Corruption, year 505. The Light Bringer’s celebration will usher in a new age altogether, of course. With a far better name, too.”

“A new age?” Erebus asked flatly.

Five years.

It had been five years since I’d last seen Elliot.

I was going to be sick.

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