32. Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-two
Astrid
Dishes clatter, metal clanging against the roar of the small crowd in The Fallen General's tavern. The sharp smell of sweet alcohol permeates the air. Barrels line the ceiling over the bar against the back of the room. Tables litter the area in between the couches facing the two hearths on either side. I feel, rather than see, heavy eyes landing on me, and when I look up I have to suppress a gasp. Squeezing the bridge of his nose on the other side of the bar is the man from the Market District, only now he has antlers that stretch from the crown of his head splitting off into seven points that halo his head. Recognition glitters in his eyes as I move closer, fully intending on taking up one of the stools at the bar and demanding answers. How did he get here? Why was he in Demendia if he is fae? My eyes glide over the curve of his muscular arms, while the memory of his smell clings to my nose like a ghost. It's like I'm drifting toward him, pulled by some invisible force when a cold boney hand grips my arm, yanking me into a booth with more strength than the little old lady looked like she was capable of.
“You’ve got a strong aura about you, human. Sit, sit,” the turban-wearing elderly woman insists, her fingers dig into the skin where she snatched my arm. She indicates the bench seat on the other side of her booth. “It is curious.” Her cold thin fingers release their painful grip on my bicep as I slide in across from her.
“An aura?” I ask, wrinkling my nose. The old woman looks like her skin is hanging from her. Bags droop under her eyes that are so deep, it looks like they aren’t there. I flinch away when the woman reaches for my hand.
“Everything is energy. An aura is the energy that a living being puts out into the world. Usually, it's something that can merely be felt but yours… I can see it.”
My attention is fully consumed by the seer as she traces my hand.
“I can tell your future just from looking at your hand, and I’ll give it to you for free.” She winks, smiling to reveal that she is missing one of her top front teeth. I lay my hand open against her palm, and the psychic inspects it. Tracing a few times, before glancing at my thumb. The psychic pauses and squints.
“Is something wrong?” I ask, my voice shaking.
“You have the eye of the gods,” she whispers, her eyes wide. Before I can ask any more questions, I’m yanked out of my chair and into the chest of an ogre that smells like a men's public bathroom.
“Come on baby, how about a smooch,” he slurs. Disgust fills me as his smell turns into one of rot and decay. He puckers his lips, the smell somehow getting worse, and I cringe away as far as I can while his friends howl with laughter somewhere in the background. I try to make a futile attempt to shove him away so he’d drop the arm around my waist. All I want is for him to stop touching me. I struggle against his grip, my pushing becoming more desperate as he leans in trying to steal a kiss I’m not willing to give. I don’t see him approach, I don’t get to witness the wind up, but I do see the large fist that connects directly with the ogre’s large nose.
The room freezes and silence blankets the space. The arm around my waist loosens before it drops along with the rest of the ogre. I turn to face my rescuer, surprised to find a familiar face. Long, honey-brown hair that hangs loose and is as long as mine. Familiar green eyes. But now, antlers sprout from his head, and there’s a slender point to his ears.
“You,” I breathe, as question after question bubbles up on my tongue. Where were his horns while he was in Demendia? My fingers twitch as I imagine touching them. I can’t stop the thoughts that accost my mind as my eyes take their time devouring his appearance. I never thought I would see him again. Something drew me to him then, maybe this is fate.
“Human witch,” he seethes, “Your kind are not welcome here. Humans don’t have magic for a reason. You’re an abomination.”
“What?” I squeak trying to make sense of the accusation he is throwing at me. “I don’t have any magic.” I try to argue with him so he will see the truth. So he’ll tell me how he’d gotten into Demendia. He could help me get back once I find the cure. An ogre turns the corner, wiping his hands on his pants like they are freshly washed. His eyes dart to his friend that is laid out on the floor before they meet the fae male’s face standing over him.
“Gus, man,” the ogre starts and the fae male lunges, pulling the ogre into a chokehold. Holding on tight until he passes out and then drops the large man-like creature.
“It’s Augustus,” the fae male says sharply. He turns away from the mess, making a beeline back to me. He snatches me up by my arm leading me back to the door.
“Whatever you did to me, whatever this is. Nothing will ever come from it. All you are is trouble and that isn’t permitted in my tavern. You shouldn’t be here. Go home to your own people before you get hurt,” he says, his voice low before he all but tosses me out the door, slamming it in my face.
“Fuck you and your stupid long ass fucking hair!” I scream at the tavern door before turning to face the crowd. Feathered wings flutter as Thea lands and I couldn’t be more thankful to see her. “Oh, thank god, it’s good as Hel to see you.”
“I’ve been looking for you,” Thea says, placing her hands on her hips.
“I stopped for five seconds to take my shoes off and y’all left me!” I say, motioning to my feet and the shoes I carry in my hands. “Did y’all even notice I was gone?” Thea doesn’t say anything , and I nod knowing it had taken them a while to realize I wasn’t with them. “I know I’m the strong one, but don’t forget to check on me every once and a while. Like when we’re in a new city and you tell me I can walk around barefooted.” I raise my boots again, shaking them a bit to make my point.
“Are you done ranting?” she asks, and I nod. “I’m sorry we didn’t realize, it will never happen again,” Thea says, holding out her hand. “You need to get to the castle.” I take her hand and she pulls me to her before launching into the sky.
The flight is quick, the wind whipping my hair into a tangled mess. When Thea sets me back onto my feet, I do my best to smooth it out, but the damage is done. The tangles give my hair a little more volume and the ends stick up at odd angles.
“Everyone being granted asylum has to be present when the granting happens, something about how the law was written, and I think King Ephraim wants to meet the person Effie speaks so highly of,” Thea rambles as she leads me through a crystal arch and up the front steps. Relief floods my veins when I step into the throne room and spot Embla sitting calmly with Effie.
“Oh, thank god.” Em throws her arms around my neck.
“Your aura is more intriguing than your sister’s.” King Ephraim pauses his conversation with the others to face us. I swallow, fear bubbling in my stomach at the fae who will make or break our quest. The fae male who will save or kill the people I care about. I find myself curtsying quickly before stepping to the center of the room. The crowd gasps at me, probably because I’m human and I dare to address their king. But I need help.
“Sire, we could really use your help. I know you have no reason to help us, but my people, my father is sick and our king won’t help. He tried to sacrifice my sister to his god. I merely need to speak to a master healer. Maybe they can figure out how to combat this plague.” The words fall from my mouth like stones that echo through the cavernous room. I couldn’t stop once I started, but King Ephraim considers for a moment. His hand strokes his chin.
“I will grant you asylum to stay within the wards, but you will have to travel to Scandes to meet with the physician’s collective. You can’t leave for Scandes immediately, the healers are in silent solitude where they contemplate for a week if they are mentally and physically capable of continuing their jobs as master physicians. You can have a week here to prepare. The physicians are having a seminar on potions and other healing salve mixtures, and the masters will teach after their solitude.” A kind smile softens the king’s face. “You saved my granddaughter; the wards will never forcibly remove you from this realm. This is how I will repay you.”
“Thank you.” I curtsy again.
“I’ll house you with one of the strongest warriors I know, so you can get to know him before he accompanies you. He’ll keep you and Effie safe. I’m sure she remembers where to find him.” He turns his blind eyes to Effie.
“Tell him this is how he redeems his honor, and his position. That I will reward him generously for helping you on this journey.” Effie bows her head.
“Thank you, Popop.” A soft smile graces her face as she grabs my arm and leads me out of the throne room, Thea and Embla on our heels.
The black sign with the words The Fallen General’s Tavern in white and swings in the slight breeze that plays between the tree buildings.
“That place doesn’t like humans.” Anger flares in my chest.
“I’ll go in first and explain the situation,” Effie says cheerfully. Before walking through the front door of Dwellin, she pulls my bag from my shoulder along with Embla’s. The bottles strung through the branches glitter to life in the growing dusk, casting light over the street. Every tree has some form of lighting wrapped into its branches, probably so the ships that take off from the very top branches don’t accidentally collide with one of them.
“I hope Effie knows what she’s doing, that guy is crazy,” I mutter, and Embla nods in agreement even though she has no idea.
“She’s known him most of her life, she’ll be fine,” Thea says as we sit on the moss sidewalk while we wait.