CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
A Night of Beds and Basements
The Veil of Maas consisted of rugged, human peasant towns along the foothills of glimmering Fae Forests. Within the packed aspen trees and yellow leaves hid the endless courts of horny immortals who lived on wine, sex, and judgment.
The Fae species had become a recent trend for Great Authors to publish, which meant constant upheaval and strife for the unfortunate humans living along nearby borders.
Thick magic clung to everything as Em and her companions entered Holly Town—like someone spritzed everything with too much flowery perfume and glitter.
Ransack buildings were crammed together in neat rows.
Everyone they passed was short, petite, and impossibly gorgeous; most were young women whose hopeful eyes lingered toward the woods for a Fae with burly muscles to sweep them off their feet.
Local merchants called out to the sparse travelers, selling jeweled oddities too expensive compared to the poverty around them.
Em peered at a few of the stalls as they wove through the narrow cobblestone roads.
The souvenirs on sale were gross enough to make her want to gag at the sight of them—literally.
Why would anyone want to put some of this stuff on or in themselves?
“I hear the Veil of Maas sells the best leather and lace goods,” Polo said, skipping about. “And plunging necklines are all the rage out in these parts.”
“Figures,” Em grumbled.
“There’s one inn here in Holly Town,” Gair said, leading the way. “From what I saw during my middle-school field trip, it’s usually desolate. The owner is known for limiting the number of guests allowed to stay per night.”
“Who’s taking school children to a realm like this?” Sasha exclaimed. “Like I’d personally be down for a wine crawl out here… as long as I get a night in a sauna with some Fae hottie. But this is way too mature for kids.”
“Put glitter or cartoons or pretty costumes on the advertisements, and it lures kids in,” Gair shrugged. “We were mostly here to learn about the Fae political system.”
“I must’ve missed that day,” Em noted.
“Your parents had overlapping Side Quests that weekend, so you were babysitting the camels that week,” he said.
“I don’t like this.” Roden’s alert eyes swept about the streets. Nearby village girls whistled at him from their porches, but the Half-elf simply stiffened and continued forward. “Fae are particular about mortals, and we aren’t their stereotypical preference for guests.”
“Em sure is,” Sasha mused. “Green eyes and human teenage girls seem to be popular out here.”
“Contact lenses,” Polo stated, touching one too many things at every merchandise table they passed. “The more enchanting the eyes, the more likely you are to get laid.”
“I’m interested in none of those things,” Em reminded her antsy group as they cut around a bend. She hoped the inn was close because she needed to bleach her brain after seeing all the adult merchandise for sale.
Her parents sheltered her as they’d raised her in order preserve her chance at becoming a Young Adult Main Character, so she couldn’t identify what half of the souvenirs were. But she could surely guess what they were used for based on the shape and size.
Polo and Sasha were way too amused by everything, shooting each other smirks and pointing at various aspects of their trope-filled surroundings. Roden, on the other hand, remained stoic and unfazed—likely the only one in their party used to this type of environment based on his roguish attitudes.
“We’re here to find someone with magic or knowledge on the WALL,” Em went on, shuddering and steering clear as possible from the merchant stands. “Then we will leave first thing tomorrow.”
“The beds at the inn are super cozy,” Gair went on, oblivious to her discomfort. “We may have to share some rooms, though. Like I said, they’re limited on occupancy.”
“What inn wouldn’t have enough space for a bunch of…” Em was cut short.
From a waving sign high overhead, framed with twisted white roses, the inn made itself known to her: THE ONE BED INN.
Oh. Her skin prickled.
“How…unique.” Sasha grinned and bobbed her eyebrows at Em.
She flipped the dryad off.
“I do love a good snuggle session,” Polo clapped his hands together, snickering at the sign. “Gair, Roden, can I be the middle spoon?”
“Not on your life,” Roden growled.
“I figured we should split up to make sure Em’s well-guarded,” Gair rubbed the back of his neck, blushing so hard his freckles disappeared. “With Kriqir being aware of Brolzross’ death and all by now…”
“Hell no,” Em crossed her arms. “Either we all stick together, or I’m sleeping in the stable.”
I’d rather have a fucking asthma attack spending a night with the damn horses than be caught in a room with any of you alone.
“Hay might hurt in all of your nice places, Highness,” Polo nudged her playfully, flashing a grin toward Roden and Gair. “Especially if you want to try to take both guys at once.”
Em shoved the imp away. “Okay…we are not doing this!”
You actually are.
“We probably wouldn’t get much sleep with any neighbors in the other rooms,” Sasha said. “I’m down for the horse stable. Of course, unless someone inside is sexy enough to tempt me for a good time.”
“We’re here to get information and leave as soon as possible,” Em said. “Not to get chummy.”
“You are,” Polo snorted.
Before anyone else could disgust her further, Em marched into the inn. A tiny bell rang out in greeting above the door.
As if on cue, rain dumped from the heavens outside, dark coldness cutting across Holly Town. Her companions shrieked in protest, spluttering and shoving inside after her.
The One Bed Inn was empty—save the little old gnome lady knitting at the front counter, and a sleeping cat curled up by the hearth. Everything smelled like roses and red wine. Rustic, dark beams lined the ceilings. Small candles flickered from tiny jars about the dining tables by the bar.
“Welcome to the One Bed Inn, the coziest place to stay on this side of Novella. Whether it be a honeymoon or an unfortunate travel disruption that leads you here, we will do our best to meet your expectations. My name is Myffie, and I’m the Inn owner.
How many?” the gnome squeaked, adjusting her tiny, crooked glasses as she set her knitting needles aside.
Myffie’s project had to be the longest blanket Em had ever seen, sprawled about her on the floor in heaps—large enough for two trolls to share.
“Five,” Em said, motioning to her shivering, dripping group. Thunder rolled outside, and rain pelted the windowpanes.
Where the hell did the rain even come from?
Every good inn scene with one bed needs a cold storm. Encourages characters to share warm cuddles beneath the sheets.
“Oh, sorry.” Myffie raised a hand to cut Em off. “We only take two per room, one room per night.”
“That’s crazy,” Em said. “No one’s even here!”
“One room for two, please!” Sasha grabbed Gair’s arm and shoved past Em, batting her long lashes at the innkeeper. The dragon-mutant protested, trying to push the dryad off him, but she dug her manicured nails into his arms.
“Just go with it,” Sasha hissed at him.
“Do you know this man?” Myffie asked her.
“Sure, we’ve been traveling together for days,” Sasha said. “Not sure what more a girl needs to get a room with a hot guy.”
“But is he your mortal enemy or rival?” Myffie asked.
“She’s about to be if she doesn’t let me sleep where I want,” Gair muttered.
“Hold on!” Em cut in. “This is an inn, right? And the rooms accommodate two people at a time? Do you have a place for all of the other beds?”
“The what…” Myffie croaked, nearly knocking her little glasses off.
“It’s the One Bed Inn,” Em said. “So, there must be a place where you store all of the extra beds when you set the scene for the incoming enemies-to-lovers or forced proximity couples, right? I want to sleep in the storage room.”
“Quit making a scene, princess,” Roden growled.
The gnome laughed, raspy and high-pitched. Myffie wobbled off her stool, shorter than even Polo, and hobbled her away across the inn.
“Suit yourselves, but there’s a surcharge per set of sheets you soil.” She motioned with a wrinkled hand for the group to follow, shaking her head. “We aren’t used to harems in these parts, but I can make something work.”
“Oh, we aren’t…” Em started.
“You remind me of my cousin Grey; always into the weirder stuff,” the gnome chatted as she hobbled her way toward a cellar door and dug into her blouse for a ring of keys. “I can’t keep up with you kiddos these days, but I respect the hustle.”
Myffie tugged at the latch and pulled open the trapdoor, the rusted hinges groaning in protest. A dank stench of mildew rose in response. Nothing in the basement was visible except a small rope ladder descending into the dark abyss.
“You can have all the space you want down here,” Myffie croaked, dropping the small cellar key into Em’s hand. “Just remember, extra per set of sheets that I have to wash any stray sperm off of.”
Gair coughed, covering his face in his hands.
Polo whispered something probably atrocious to Sasha, who burst into a fit of giggles.
“That won’t be necessary, ma’am,” Em said, clearing her throat and clinging to the cellar key in gratitude. “You won’t even see us leave; we’re headed for the Fae Forest first thing tomorrow…”
“Aren’t we all?” the gnome laughed and hobbled away, whistling to the cat by the hearth, and returned to her desk.
Em let out a huff. Defeated, she shoved the cellar key into her pocket and began her clumsy descent into the basement. The distant scurry of rats, the drip of something leaking, and the dimness engulfed her.
Her friends’ faces leered at her from overhead.
The awkward sway of the rope ladder nearly sent her tumbling into the basement, but she clung to the course rungs to catch herself as it burned into her skin. Her heart skipped a beat.
“Don’t hurt yourself, princess,” Roden commented.