Chapter 9 #2
“I thought you were letting me choose our destination,” Reeve said as he arrived behind her, though he didn’t sound surprised.
He did, however, look bewildered as he peered around the shadowy inner-mountain alley before them and asked, “Why are we in the market district? It’s the middle of the night—everything’s closed. ”
“I can’t exactly take you back to my apartment with the Magistratus sleeping down the hall,” Viri returned, tugging on the fillium. “Follow me. I know a place where we can talk.”
It was almost eerie, walking through the sleeping alley located halfway up Mount Verta, past closed shops carved into the rock wall and canvas-covered stalls lining the lane.
Come morning, the spiraling mountain thoroughfare would be teeming with people buying everything from fruits and vegetables and meats—all fresh from the farms located just outside the uppercity—to clothes and crafts and jewelry.
As the commercial hub of Aravell, the market district boasted the city’s best tearooms, bakeries, perfumeries, florists, confectioneries, boutiques, bookstores, and more.
If it could be bought, sold, or traded, then it could be found right there in the heart of the mountain.
Normally, Viri could happily lose time wandering around the stores, or just people-watching from the railing that overlooked the hollow center of the mountain.
As the midpoint in Mount Verta, glancing up afforded a spiraling view toward the Entertainment Guild, the Scholars’ Guild above that, then the Summit, where the High Council convened.
Glancing down found the City Services Guild, the Healers’ Guild, then the base of the mountain, where the hunters and Nox presided.
Seven main levels, covering everything the citizens of Aravell needed to survive and thrive on Elverdine Isle.
While the inner design of Mount Verta had always fascinated Viri, tonight she paid it little heed as she led Reeve along the darkened alleyway, past familiar cafés and market stalls, all locked up tight for the evening.
There were plenty of after-hours businesses in the Entertainment Guild that Viri could have taken him to—eateries, theaters, taverns, gambling houses—but she didn’t want to be around crowds right now, constantly looking over her shoulder in fear of being caught.
As soon as Darik woke, he would send out his Nox—there was no doubt about that.
What Viri needed was a discreet place to hide while she obtained the answers she’d been promised.
“We’re nearly there,” she said, seeing lights coming from a shop carved into the mountainside ahead.
“Don’t rush on my behalf,” Reeve replied. “I’ve always enjoyed a good nighttime stroll.” He patted his stomach. “Aids digestion.”
“Elders forbid you show the slightest hint of concern about being on the run,” Viri muttered.
“I’ve been on the run for seven years.” He gave a careless shrug. “From you, mostly.”
“I haven’t been chasing you.”
“No, but you’ve been chasing—”
“We’re here,” Viri cut him off, not needing a reminder of all the years she’d been trying—and failing—to catch the Reaper Priest. As his closest follower, Reeve might have interpreted that as her searching for him as well, but he wasn’t the one who had killed her parents, so her vendetta hadn’t been focused on him.
Nevertheless, he was a reaper, so it was inevitable that she would have hunted him eventually.
“Betty’s Bakes,” Reeve said, reading the sign above the door where she’d halted them. “You brought me to a bakery?”
“Not just any bakery—the best bakery in Aravell,” Viri said loyally, waving to the mouthwatering assortment of cakes and pastries displayed in the window.
Reeve tapped the Closed sign. “Are we breaking and entering? Barely an hour together and I’m already a bad influence on you. That’s a new record.”
Viri rapped her knuckles against the wooden door. “It’s only closed to customers.”
“What are we? Fish?”
Inhaling slowly, Viri sought patience and explained, “The owner—Betty—always stays late to prepare orders for the next day. She’s used to me dropping by during my hunting shifts, so she won’t think it strange that I’m here tonight.”
“And me?” Reeve asked.
Viri flicked his borrowed coat. “You’re my Nox friend.”
“ ‘Friend’?” He smirked. “How scandalous.”
“Not that kind of friend,” Viri gritted out. She heard footsteps hobbling toward the door and quickly warned, “Betty’s old and kind, but she’s also nosy. Be careful what you say in here. And for Elders’ sake, behave yourself.”
“For Elders’ sake, or for your sake?”
“For your sake,” Viri said, but the menace in her tone only made him chuckle.
Before she could tell him exactly what she would do if he said anything inappropriate, the wooden door opened, releasing a delicious wave of baking aromas that instantly made Viri’s stomach rumble.
Light flooded out from within, revealing Betty’s short, rounded figure, her hair as white as the flour that dusted it, her wrinkles like aged parchment.
Large, circular glasses sat over cloudy brown eyes that squinted into the darkened alleyway, but then a wide smile stretched across her face as she lunged forward, arms open in welcome.
She wasn’t, however, reaching for Viri.
“Sugarplum!” Betty cried, pulling Reeve to her ample bosom. “I’ve missed your visits!”
Viri’s mouth dropped open as she watched Betty embrace Reeve tightly, then release him to pinch his cheeks.
“Handsome as always,” the elderly woman said. “Just like your father.”
“But less of a scoundrel,” Reeve said with a roguish grin.
Betty wheezed out a laugh. “I doubt that. But what’s life without a little mischief?” She turned to Viri, sending her a wink. “Good thing hunters know how to have fun. Right, sweets?”
Viri couldn’t respond, her brain struggling to process what was happening.
Not only did Betty know Reeve, she’d also known his father, who, if Viri recalled correctly, had died from an untreatable blood infection shortly after Reeve’s fifth birthday.
His mother had abandoned him as a babe by running off with another man, so his father’s passing had left Reeve bouncing between group homes and orphanages until he’d finally been adopted by an elderly couple—Viri’s childhood neighbors.
That was how she’d first met him all those years ago.
He’d been, quite literally, the boy next door.
“I’m sorry,” Viri said weakly, waving a hand between Reeve and Betty, “but how do you two know each other?”
“This is the best bakery in Aravell,” Reeve said, repeating Viri’s earlier words almost mockingly. “I’ve been coming here for years.”
“I thought I was being haunted by the ghost of his father,” Betty said with a tender look at Reeve. “Jude Ashton was always a sweetheart, so it’s no surprise that his son is, too.”
A sweetheart? Reeve? Clearly Betty was turning senile in her old age.
“Gracious, look at me, yabbering away.” Betty flapped her hands, sending flour everywhere. “Come in, come in. I’ve just made a fresh batch of custard tarts.” She beamed at Reeve. “Your favorite.”
“You’re an angel,” Reeve said, returning her smile. “You wouldn’t believe how bland prison food is. I’ve been hungry for a week.”
Viri’s eyes widened at what he’d just revealed, but Betty barely reacted.
“We can’t have that,” the old woman tsked as she turned and hobbled back into her shop, gesturing for them to follow. “You’re a growing boy.”
Boy was hardly the word Viri would have used. Despite Reeve being only eighteen, there was nothing boyish about him—not the way he looked, not the way he acted. And certainly not the way he killed innocents for his own gain.
The reminder sent a cold rush of reality over Viri, and she stomped into the bakery, jerking on her fillium to drag Reeve after her.
There were plenty of wooden tables for them to choose from, all decorated with flowers and candles and doilies, making the inside of the store look almost as good as it smelled.
But Viri didn’t appreciate it as much as she usually did, her focus narrowed on getting what she needed, then sending Reeve back where he belonged.
“Take a seat anywhere, honeybuns,” Betty invited as she shuffled behind the counter and toward the kitchen. “I’ll be right back with your treats.”
Viri dragged Reeve to the farthest corner of the room and sat opposite him, sliding the decorations aside so the only thing between them was her fillium extending across the table.
“Time for some answers,” she said without preamble. “I gave you what you wanted. Now it’s your turn.”