Chapter 17
Chapter
Seventeen
LARELLIN
“This smells so bad,” I complain for what must be the dozenth time.
“You can’t go around smelling like a mortal. You’ll be found out, maybe absconded with, maybe eaten, and then I’ll never hear the end of it from Vander.” Lenka pats me on the back, sending up a plume of noxious stink.
The cart we’re riding on rocks gently as the horses pull us through a chilly wood. The tree limbs seem to lean toward us on either side, as if they’re moving closer as we pass. I tell myself it’s just my imagination, but when a limb snags on my hat, Lenka swipes at it with her hand.
A screech splits my ears, and I slap my hands to the sides of my head to block it out.
“Try it again, and I’ll burn the lot of you!” Lenka shouts. “Gods, the nerve! Keep your filthy twigs to yourselves.” She clucks her tongue, and the horses walk faster.
I hold onto the seat. If I tumble over the edge and into the woods, I’m certain I won’t make it out again.
“We’re almost there. Smell the smoke?” Lenka asks.
“I can’t smell anything except … what is this again?” I look at the gray cloak draped along my shoulders, then down at the too-big trousers that are absolutely filthy.
“DrudgeGolem. I caught one in the larder a while back. The bugger was completely naked and using a handful of tallow to stroke his—”
I gasp.
Lenka gives me a sidelong glance. “Well, you get the gist. He ran as soon as he saw me but left his duds behind. I’d meant to burn them, to tell you true, but I suppose it slipped my mind. Lucky, that.”
“Yes. Lucky.” I try to breathe through my mouth. Whatever a DrudgeGolem is, I never want to meet one. Not if they all smell like this—a mix of animal dung, mold, and garlic.
“Immortals—most of them anyway—have much better senses than what mortals are accustomed to. If someone were to sniff you out, that’s trouble we don’t need.
” She holds her hand out, palm up. “But don’t worry, we aren’t exactly unarmed.
” A large burst of orange flame shoots up, and I could swear the tree limbs beside the narrow lane shiver and retreat.
She stows the flame and grabs the reins again.
“Besides, everyone in Churlytown knows me. We’ll be all right.
You remember what to do if there’s trouble? ”
“Yell for you.”
“What if someone’s bothering you?”
“Yell for you.”
“What if a pixie threatens to take out your eye?”
“Yell for you.”
“What if a troll—”
“I’ll yell for you, Lenka.”
“Smart little mortal.” She smiles up at me, firelight dancing in her eyes.
I shouldn’t preen at being called a ‘smart little mortal’ but I do.
It’s not as if praise was forthcoming in Raingreen.
Mama loved me, protected me, would do anything for me, but praise wasn’t part of her language.
In fact, the more I get used to being in the DragonKeep, the more I realize Raingreen was missing a lot of things. Warmth. Compassion. Curiosity. Love.
Love. As I think the word, I picture Vander’s green eyes, the scar along one of them, the way he looked up at me from between my—No. I shut those thoughts off. I can’t love a DragonKin. I don’t even know what love is. Not really. What we did was physical. Just lust. Nothing more serious than that.
“I can see you blushing through the mud.” Lenka smirks. “Thinking about Vander, are you?”
“No!” I answer far too quickly.
Lenka laughs. Another sound meets my ears, and I peer ahead. The lane widens farther up, the trees giving way, and beside the road I find a well with a bucket hanging and swaying lightly in the cold breeze. I lean over and try to look down it as we pass.
Lenka grabs me and yanks me upright again. “Never look in that well.”
“Why?”
“There are a lot of ways for mortals to die in Oblivion, child. Drowning in your own reflection is a pitiful way to go.”
“Drowning in my reflection? What?”
“The well is cursed. See the toadstools growing all around it?” I look back and see the mushrooms she’s mentioned, some of them far larger than anything I saw in Raingreen.
“If you ever see toadstools in a circle, beware. There’s mischief about, none of it good.
Now quiet down. We’re passing Caruxi. The watchman. Keep silent.”
I cross my arms under my cloak like Lenka taught me before we left the keep, and I look down, the hat giving plenty of cover for my mud-smeared face.
“Back again, sizzling lady?” A deep voice that crackles and creaks. “Can’t get enough of me, can you?”
“Just need some supplies. Hungry dragons, you know.”
“If you need some company up at the keep, you know you can summon me with that coin I gave you.”
“I’m aware.” Lenka’s tone is polite but clipped.
“And who’s this?”
“A DrudgeGolem I found injured on the road. I’ll return her to her Drudgeridge once I’ve done my shopping.”
The creature groans, his heavy steps approaching. One of the horses whinnies.
“Aww, I’m not even hungry. Quit your crying.” His crackly laugh does nothing to ease either me or the horse.
“You hurt?” He pokes at my leg.
I grunt like Lenka showed me.
“Leave the poor thing alone.”
“Don’t get jealous now, Lenka. You know you’re my only love.” He leans over in front of me and forces me to meet his eyes. “There you are.”
Red skin, black eyes, dozens of white, twisted horns sprouting all over his bald pate.
Lenka told me the watchman was a demon, but I admit I wasn’t sure what to expect.
When I see him, completely bare from the waist up with blood red skin, fangs, and the horns, it takes every ounce of control I have not to scream.
I grit my teeth together and clutch my hands beneath the cloak.
He stares. My skin crawls. Are we about to be discovered? Gods, maybe this was a terrible idea.
“Small for a DrudgeGolem.” He looks at Lenka. “Lucky she didn’t get carried off by something.”
“Yes, lucky.” Lenka clears her throat. “We’d best be going. The storm will be here soon. I wouldn’t want to get caught in it.”
Storm? There’s a slight, intermittent breeze, but other than that the frigid air is calm.
“All right. I’ll see you on the way out. Maybe you’ll take me back to the keep, too. Eh, Lenka? You can tie me to your bed and use me. Abuse me, too. I can take the heat.” He stomps away, his hooves leaving deep marks in the muddy road.
“Onward.” Lenka rolls her eyes and urges the two roan mares to continue along the road.
The path quickly opens wider, and the muddy road becomes cobbled, stones neatly placed in rows that make the jostling cart ride a bit more bearable.
Woodsmoke is in the air along with scents of spiced meats and warm bread.
I’m supposed to keep my head down, but it’s hard when I see dark brown buildings rising on either side of me, windows giving glimpses of people inside.
Even with the trees still looming all around and the clouds overhead, the village is almost bright.
“Back from the keep, are you?” A woman with a cane hobbles out to greet us.
Lenka stops the horses. “Just come for a few supplies.”
“Glad to have you back so soon.” The woman looks up, and I realize quickly that she has only one eye, and it’s in the center of her forehead.
I clench my teeth together to stop from making any sort of sound.
“Found a straggler on the road,” Lenka clambers down from the cart.
“You picking up stragglers these days?” The one-eyed woman peers at me closely. She wears a bright shawl on her slightly hunched shoulders, and her dark hair is wrapped up in a high bun that seems to accentuate the eye even more.
It’s nearly impossible to look away, but I must. What would a real DrudgeGolem do in this situation?
The woman laughs, the sound surprising. “Oh, a straggler indeed.” She leans back, and I feel like I can breathe again.
“Don’t go starting trouble, Ilna.” Lenka chides and offers her hand to me. I take it, and she helps me down from the cart.
Something flits around my head, and I swipe at it.
“Don’t!” Lenka grabs my wrist, stilling my hand.
A high-pitched ringing puts my teeth on edge, and Ilna cackles again, her eye focused on my hat. “You’ve done it now, straggler. Popped a pixie, you have.”
“You’re fine.” Lenka speaks to my hat. “If you seek recompense, you’ll have to spend to King Vander of the DragonLands. I have no boon for you.”
The ringing grows louder, and I’m desperate to cover my ears. But I dare not move, not when Lenka, for all appearances, seems to be arguing with a pixie who’s perched on my hat.
“Have you forgotten the scales?” Lenka cuts in.
The ringing stops.
“Continue to try me, young one, and mayhap King Vander will return for what he gave.”
King? She’s called Vander ‘sire’ before, but she’s never referred to him as a king. A glowing orb flits past my face, then shoots high into the sky and disappears amongst the dark tree limbs. The ground shakes, and I wonder if the pixie has gone to get reinforcements.
“What was that?” I try to keep my voice low and gruff. This only makes Ilna more amused, her smile growing and revealing a row of sharp, pointed teeth.
“Ugh, pixies.” Lenka lets go of my wrist. “They try to trick unwary travelers, buzzing about so that you strike one of them. Then, under Oblivion law, they’re allowed to demand recompense. It’s nothing more than a fairy grift.”
The shaking grows worse, a sign over one of the buildings up ahead squeaking as it swings back and forth.
“Come in before the giants arrive. If they’ve been drinking again, we’re in for a terrible time.” Ilna stops up onto a narrow porch at the front of a two-story cottage. Vines grow and twine around the front door, and the upper level has a large window in the shape of a crescent moon.
Lenka leads the horses and cart to the side of the house, then follows Ilna inside.