6. Seir
Chapter 6
Seir
A s we walked away from Olinbourg toward Eddington, the morning sun warmed our backs. Steam rose from the tall grass as the heat thawed the soil. We’d missed the sunrise thanks to some heavy fog, but it was shaping up to be a lovely day with a cool breeze. The change in foliage from the woods around Olinbourg to more grassy open areas as we traveled the well-worn road was nothing short of wondrous. I always missed the vibrancy of color that places outside of Hell had, and seeing all the wonderful things morning had to offer was an excellent reminder of just how dull the underworld could be.
Unfortunately, this section of the road was mostly barren aside from some distant groupings of pine trees and an occasional passing wagon, none of which were going the same direction as us and all seemed to have horses that couldn’t give us a wide enough berth. My polite greetings to the drivers had been met with frustrated glares as they tried their best to control their beasts, though one did begrudgingly tip his hat to Hailon when she raised her hand in a wave.
I’d managed to start several short conversations with the interesting woman walking beside me, but she seemed focused purely on putting one foot in front of the next, even after I finally managed to get her to pass over her pack for me to carry.
“What is your home like?” I asked.
“Not much different from Olinbourg, I suppose. Colder, though. Ravenglen is right next to the northern mountains, and there’s snow on the peaks there all year.” I waited several beats for her to elaborate further, but she did not.
She glanced over, found me staring and asked, “Is it true that Hell is dark nearly all the time?”
I nodded. “Yes. It’s not true dark, though. There’s a brightness to the false sky like daylight, but it’s always some shade of gray instead of blue like here.”
“Are you always stuck there?” she asked, kicking at a pebble on the road.
“I wouldn’t say stuck. I travel to other realms often, though my job is in Hell.” My apartment, too, such as it was. It was a consistent place to return in order to rest, but I held no true attachment to it.
“I would miss the sunshine. I have missed the sunshine. I didn’t get to go outside at all while I was at that house. I sometimes got to open the window though. Not enough to climb out, but enough to get some fresh air and a breeze. I missed the whole summer.” Hailon turned around and bathed her face in the light, walking backwards with her eyes closed for several paces. A small smile ticked at her lips, and as I grinned in response to the pleasant sight, I found my heartburn flaring. Whatever the cause was, I was rather irritated by the gnawing sensation.
“Every realm is lovely in its own way. Hell is home, has been for a very, very long time. I don’t mind it. But I do love visiting other places, and I do find I miss many things about this world when I am elsewhere.”
“Every realm?” she asked, fidgeting with her tunic. “You’ve been beyond Cyntere?”
I chuckled. “Yes, many times. The world is very big, and there are doorways to places not shown on any map if you know where to find them.”
She digested this quietly. To my dismay, the conversation never picked back up. Hailon had gone pensive and introspective, and I worried something I’d said was the cause of her withdrawal.
It wasn’t until we stopped for a rest at midday that part of the reason my companion had grown so quiet was revealed.
Hailon stripped off the boots we’d found for her in the way-house the minute we were seated on some fallen trees in the shade of a stand of pines. She dug through her pack, bringing out the healing ointment and an extra pair of socks. I heard her mumble several colorful curses under her breath.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, startled by her sudden intake of breath.
“Blisters,” she said simply. “The boots are a little big.”
My heart thumped rapidly behind my ribs, panic settling into my chest at the thought that she’d been quietly suffering the whole day.
I apologized, digging out some food to keep my hands occupied while she applied the salve to her heels and toes. She put her socks back on, hesitated, then layered on the last pair for good measure.
“It’s alright. This should help.”
I handed her one of the water skins and she took it eagerly, downing several gulps. I frowned harder. “You do not need to be thirsty or endure physical discomfort. Just say if you need something, Hailon. I could always carry you?—”
“You will not be carrying me,” she said firmly, shaking her head for emphasis.
“Then you must speak more freely about your needs. I’ve spent most of my time around demons and fae, I’m clearly not good at reading humans just yet. I just thought you weren’t interested in talking, but if you were in pain…” I couldn’t piece together the words I needed to express my concern. Her eyes drifted to my tail, which was twitching irritably behind me in the grass. “I need to know. You must tell me. Okay?”
“I’ll do my best to let you know if I need something going forward,” she said before tearing into an apple with a noticeably aggressive bite. It was such a silly thing, and probably meant to deter me, expressing her displeasure as she was, but I adored her fire.
“Thank you. That’s all I ask.” I couldn’t restrain my good mood as we ate, her eyes anywhere but on me and mine nowhere but on her.
With a rueful sigh, she pulled the boots back on once she’d tossed aside the apple core. “Bastard,” she muttered. I couldn’t help grinning. For all I knew, she was referring to me, though I assumed she meant the blisters.
“Your healing ability doesn’t heal your body?” I asked as I shifted around the contents of the packs so they were more evenly distributed. “You healed my arm, and you mentioned that ability was being sold by your captor. The injuries from the day we met, the blisters. Your gift won’t take care of them?”
Hailon shook her head, dusting her hands on her thighs as she stood. “No. It has only ever worked on others.”
“That’s quite unfair.”
Her mouth twitched and she chuffed a harsh laugh. “Tell me about it.”
“Are your bruises and cuts alright? Perhaps we should find somewhere to camp?—”
“I’m fine.”
“But you had several injuries, if I let my excitement about traveling cloud my judgment about your readiness, we should?—”
“Seir?” She put her hand on my arm, right over where she’d healed my cut. The simple touch quelled the building storm of anxiety inside me, very effectively shutting me up.
“Yes?”
“I’m fine. Really. We should go.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Please. I’d like to make it to the village before nightfall tomorrow. If we stop moving now, it will only take us longer.”
“Okay. Yes. We’ll go.” I gathered our things and followed behind her as she walked back through the tall grass toward the road.
The afternoon was almost stifling, with no hint of a breeze and unseasonably warm weather. When I was sure it was just the two of us on the road, I let my wings out and raised them as high as they would go. The angle of the sun was such that my face was still partially exposed, but at least Hailon had some shade. I was even graced with a small smile for my effort.
We were both worn out by the time the sun started to slip toward the horizon, providing relief from the heat and the sign we needed to find a suitable place for making camp.
“This will have to do,” I sighed, the small grove of trees similar to where we’d stopped midday offering the only semblance of shelter on the flat, grassy plain.
“There’s a creek at least.”
“Small favors and all that,” I muttered, collecting medium sized stones to make a fire ring.
“I’m going to go get some water.” Hailon took the largest pot and went off toward the little stream.
She’d been stoic since our lunch stop, but the limp she’d picked up had only gotten worse as the day dragged on. I knew the blisters were bothering her, but still, she said nothing. She was proving both tough and stubborn, which together were an especially formidable pair of traits.
By the time she got back with the water, I’d gathered enough wood to cook our meal and keep us comfortable overnight. It took a few moments, but I managed to get a fire started with the little kit of flint and steel. One day, I would make it back to that cabin and replenish everything we’d taken so the next travelers to pass through could be as well supplied as we were.
“What are we going to do about shelter?” she asked, glancing around. “This feels rather exposed.”
“It’s not optimal, but we don’t have much choice. It’ll be alright, I don’t sleep much.” Hailon nodded, forehead wrinkled despite my claim. “I’m going to see if I can find something fresh to add to our dried meat for a stew.”
“Do you know how to recognize dangerous plants?” she asked.
I nodded but hesitated. “I know about the poisonous mushrooms with red caps, and the vining plants with three leaves that will make you blister and itch.” She frowned at my enthusiastic response. “Are there many dangerous plants somewhere like this?” I gestured vaguely to the sparse, grassy plain.
The corner of Hailon’s mouth twitched. “Yes. There are many, many things that are toxic in places like this. Plants, animals. Even water.” She waved me over, walking in the direction of the creek. “Come on. I saw what I think is cress and some kind of berry while I was filling the pot. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find some edible roots.”
“I always forget that Earth is like this. Humans are challenged at every turn just to keep themselves alive!”
She turned and glanced at me over her shoulder, judgment and concern pulling her eyebrows together. “You sound positively thrilled about that.”
“Oh, I am! I love it here, there are endless adventures to be had, and the variety of life is fascinating. It’s the same in the fae realm, but they’re far less mortal than humans.”
“Should I be worried?”
“Of course not. I’m no threat to you, Hailon. Besides, you’re also dangerous, after all, have you forgotten? Should it come down to a battle between us, it would be a narrow margin that determined a winner.” I gave her an exaggerated wink, pulse pounding in my veins. It would have been convenient to blame the hazards of Earth-dwelling for the exhilaration I was feeling, but there was more to it than that. Her, in particular. And the idea of sparring with her… well. I forced myself to inhale slowly several times and considered a quick swim in the undoubtedly icy stream.
My comical wink and commentary amused her, and the short laugh she gave only thrilled me further.
“I don’t know much at all about the fae, so I can’t speak to that. Is it not like this in Hell?”
I considered as we pushed through the tall grass, the blades making a soft swishing noise as we flattened it with every step. “I suppose for some it is. But most of the inhabitants are either already dead or demons, so it’s different.” I frowned. Was it, though? I battled legions of lesser demons often. They were mindless hordes, bent on nothing but destruction. What kind depended on who their master was. I knew my brothers were helping the stone kin face down similar infestations here on the surface. “There are no unknown dangers in Hell, only consequences. Everyone is aware of evils lurking, and if they decide to take a chance…” I grinned and spread my arms wide, indicating that was the choice they were free to make.
Hailon had turned to look at me and stood quite still with her mouth open slightly. “I see.”
I felt a rush of heat prickle along my neck. There seemed to be equal measures of thoughtfulness and judgment in her gaze, but she continued on her mission to find us some edibles.
“Wait, are you saying there are some live residents of Hell who aren’t demons?”
“Ah, you were paying attention. Yes, there are. They are very few, but there are some… interesting contracts that currently exist between demons and mortals allowing them to live and work in Hell. Part of the time, at least.”
Hailon only made a thoughtful noise at this information as she came to the edge of the water.
The creek itself was perhaps as wide as I was tall, the rocky bottom perfectly visible. There were sadly no fish, at least not ones large enough to see. Hailon stripped off the boots and her double-layered socks, grimacing as she peeled them down her heels. Had I not been carefully watching her face, I wouldn’t have even noticed the flinch she made. After rolling up the legs of her trousers, she stepped into the frigid water, wading carefully into the center. It only came up to her shins, but the current was powerful enough she had to rebalance on the pebbles below her feet more than once.
“The little greens with oval leaves and white flowers? That’s cress.” She pointed to a plant on the far bank as she continued to cross. “There might be some farther down on your side, too. It likes to grow in the little places the water has carved out. See?” Her fingers traced the little cove the plant had nestled in.
“Yes.” I nodded happily, then plodded slowly along the muddy edge of the water as I looked for the plant. I yelled out proudly when I found some, startling the birds and bugs into momentary silence. Hailon’s nod of approval, complete with the hint of a proud smile, made my whole body warm.
Before long, we had plenty of fresh greens and even a few handfuls of slightly tart berries between us.
“I’d like to stand here a bit longer, if that’s okay?”
I took the food from her outstretched hands. “Aren’t your feet chilled by now?”
Her head bobbed. “A little, but it feels nice on my heels.” She trailed off, as though embarrassed to admit such a thing.
Frustration bloomed, but I didn’t want to add to her discomfort. “I’ll go start cooking then. Call me when you’re finished, and I’ll come get you.”
She huffed. “No need, I’ll walk.”
“Your feet will be wet, and it will be worse tomorrow if you have damp socks or boots to wear. I’ll carry you back when you’re done.”
“Seir, I don’t need you to?—”
“If you walk through the grass, you will cut your feet, Hailon. It’s sharp, like little blades. Then you would have injured, dirty, blistered, wet feet. I will carry you .” My heart was pounding as the overwhelming need to help her, to protect her, for her to allow me to do something so simple for her throbbed through my bones. The seriousness of my tone had her mouth dropping open, then shutting again into a tight line.
“Fine. But I think this is entirely unnecessary, for the record.”
“Noted.” Surprised at her giving in, but grateful, I left before she could change her mind.