Chapter 36 Ginger
Ginger
He was everywhere.
The pub. Town Square. The diner when I wasn’t in the mood to cook for myself.
Even outside of Fiella’s trinket shop, casually leaning against the stone of an alleyway, cloaked in shadows and casually flipping a coin with deft, darkened fingers.
Days passed, and the threat of the King’s men became ever more dire, but the stubborn god remained.
The journey to the King could take weeks, depending on the weather and how dedicated the knights were to their travels. His Majesty’s castle was nestled deep in the Dragonspeak Mountains, protected on all sides and not easily accessible.
A slacker could easily extend the journey.
But stakes were high—gods were loose, and I was sure the King’s men would be moving as fast as possible to contain the threat.
I snorted at that thought. Threat.
The most menacing, intimidating, powerful being in the realm was stubbornly lingering in our small town, and all he seemed to want to do was follow me around like a lost puppy.
It was annoyingly adorable.
I had taken to venturing outside of my normal schedule, just to see if I would still cross paths with him.
Instead of taking an evening stroll through the woods, I meandered into town. Instead of visiting Velline at Moonvale Medical, I drifted to Lunette’s plant shop to buy a new potted fern for my cottage (that I would surely kill in a few weeks’ time).
No surprise, he was still there. He was always there.
It had become a game, almost. Where would my shadow appear? In the woods, around a corner, or right in front of my face?
Brambleby seemed to appreciate the game, too, occasionally darting away from me to nip at Shade’s heels or steal a treat from his pockets.
I couldn’t help but smile.
The door to Tommins’ office at Town Hall opened with a chime, a small bell above the frame ringing merrily.
That was new. I guess Tommins wanted a heads up for any visitors.
Brambleby didn’t follow me in—he darted (sluggishly) in the opposite direction.
“One moment, please!” a male voice called out.
I cocked my head. That wasn’t the mayor’s strong timbre. This one was brighter—human.
Linc.
“Linc, what are you doing here?” I asked.
“Working,” he said simply. “Tommins will be able to see you in—” he glanced at an enchanted clock on the far wall “—ten minutes.”
I crossed my arms, leaning my hip against the door frame. “You’re still working for Tommins?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“When were you going to tell me this?” I asked.
He shrugged. “You never asked.”
My mouth opened and shut twice before I could decide what to say. “Do you still work for me?”
He glanced up and met my eyes for a moment before returning to a stack of parchment. “Of course.”
“Oh. Two jobs?”
“Many jobs.”
“Oh,” I repeated, dumbfounded. “You must be rather busy,”
“The town needs me,” he said matter-of-factly.
I held back a laugh. Based on the look of things, he was creating more of a mess than he was cleaning up. Same as with the pub. He meant well, but he wasn’t the best worker.
I kept that thought to myself. “I’ll just wait, then,” I murmured as I drifted to the window, content to watch the townsfolk pass by.
“Suit yourself.”
I caught a glimpse of darkness around the corner, drifting into an alleyway.
An involuntary smile pulled at my mouth. Shade.
He crouched down, fumbling with something I could not see. He lingered for a moment, one knee to the ground, head bent low.
And then he stood. Shoved his hands into the pockets of his cloak. And strode away from the alley.
A cluster of three littles ran out of the alley a few moments later. The young folk giggled and squealed, waving their closed fists around excitedly. I squinted to get a better look.
One of the little humans opened her palm, showing off a shiny blue marble to her mother.
My smile felt suddenly brittle.
Tommins broke me from my eavesdropping. “Ginger!” he said, voice shockingly loud in the quiet room. “It’s good to see you! Did we have an appointment?”
I reluctantly pulled my eyes from the window and turned, taking in the gryphon. He looked frazzled, though that wasn’t necessarily out of the norm. “No, no appointment. I was just curious if you’ve heard from the King’s men.”
His brow pinched in something that looked like sympathy. “No. Not since the initial missive, informing me that a squad of knights was on the way. Why do you ask?”
I swallowed past the uncomfortable thickness in my throat. “Just curious.”
He nodded. His eyes scanned over my face a little too intensely. “It is discomforting, the entire situation.”
“It is,” I agreed. “Very.”
“It’s difficult, knowing they’re coming for Shade.”
I nodded, agreeing again. “So difficult. What do you think they’re going to do to him?”
“What can they do to him? He’s a god, for fate’s sake.”
I shivered. “Who knows what the King is capable of.”
“And you're concerned,” he mused.
“Concerned? No! I—”
“You don’t need to explain yourself, Ginny.” He nodded sharply. “I’ll send word when I hear any news. Or when the knights arrive, whichever comes first. If the gossip chain doesn’t beat me to it,” he finished under his breath.
“Thank you.” I turned back as I reached the door. “Tommins?”
“Yes, Ginger?”
“Do you think we did the right thing?”
He smiled tightly, taut lips almost hidden behind his beard. “We will just have to wait and find out.”
I couldn’t stop the sick, sinking feeling that we had not done the right thing.
Far from it.
We had made a horrible, horrible mistake.