Chapter 22 #2
Enach leaned back and made to reach for Ainsworth’s ankle, but Ainsworth retracted his leg under the chair. “Ah, just a mishap with a dark beast out on the mountain range.”
“But whatever were you doing out there? The innkeeper said you had been gone for a week, and the hauflin boy seemed worried for you. I feared I had come just in time to learn of your demise!” Enach’s eyes were wide as his voice descended into a whisper.
“I could not bear it. I had to paint a smile on my face, pretend everything would be fine, because the alternative…?”
“Enach!” Ainsworth gasped. Enach had never made such proclamations before. Had Ainsworth’s recent reflections in solitude only furthered and festered his hurt feelings, bringing him to the wrong conclusions?
Ainsworth reached out a hand and placed it carefully on Enach’s cheek, brushing his thumb to follow one of the markings that reached toward his jaw. “I am fine, really. It is just a small wound.”
“I’ll be the judge of that, actually.”
Ainsworth jumped, and even Enach looked startled. Neither had noticed Honey returning, balancing a tray atop her hip that held linens and a bowl of something that emitted a sharp scent. It seemed to soar through Ainsworth’s nose and up into his head. He swiftly removed his hand from Enach’s cheek.
“Please, let me tend to him,” Honey said, gesturing for Enach to move out of her way. Her face was unreadable, but when Ainsworth tried to catch her eye to say something, she looked quickly away.
“Very well,” Enach said, standing. His voice was loaded with the kind of weight that told Ainsworth things were not, in fact, very well at all. “But there is little need for this. If you let me pack swiftly, I can get him through the circle and take him home—to the best healers.”
“H-home?” Ainsworth gasped as Honey placed a warm cloth on his ankle. It stung horribly, and he hissed.
“Sorry, I should have warned you,” she said in a small voice. She seemed very intent on her task; indeed, not looking up once. Dark curls hung over her shoulders, her horns shining in the firelight. She had not been wearing the silver trinkets earlier.
Enach folded his arms. He stood rigid in front of the fire, its light limning him like a halo, demonstrating what a clean-cut elf he was.
“Yes, home. The innkeeper told me of your plans, but if you merely need research subjects in the form of adventurers, then you can leave the details here for her to pass along. Surely you need to start writing now? You have dwelled far too long on the fieldwork, Ainsworth.”
“But that— Things have changed!” Ainsworth replied, wincing as Honey now spun clean linens around his leg, tight across the wound.
She still did not look up at him. “Enach, I am not sure how much Honey told you, but something is amiss here! Adventurers turning around the very day they intended to achieve their goal? I was out looking for magical interference this week and found none. I wish to remain and perhaps get to the bottom of this, and—”
“And what, produce some sort of wishy-washy history of cowardly adventurers? You need to return and make a decision as to how to proceed, how to get actual adventurers for your account. Without them, without the research documenting actual findings from a journey across the mountain itself…your manuscript will fall short of expectations, Ainsworth. There are other places people depart from to seek Mount Vengeance; adapting the project to an angle like that could work. You could go to the republic, perhaps.”
“But—”
“No buts, Ainsworth. Trust me, this is the best way forward.”
“Pah!” Honey exclaimed.
Enach narrowed his brows. “Did you say something, innkeeper?”
“She didn’t!” Ainsworth quickly replied, but Honey was glaring at Enach.
It was a look he had not seen before—and one he wished never to be on the receiving end of.
There was something looming within her, he realized, some magic spilling at the seams. Her golden eyes seemed to shimmer, the color spinning like disturbed liquid. Her tail twitched behind her back.
It was mesmerizing.
“You know what is best, do you?” she snapped.
Her eyes continued to glow, but the light seemed to flicker in their intensity, coming and going erratically like a candle disturbed by a passing draft.
She was trying to hold back something, Ainsworth realized.
He thought of Ashe’s words. Do you know how strong Honey is?
“But how would you? You have been here all of five minutes and did not truly listen when I tried to talk of Ainsworth’s plans.
Which he has shared extensively with me. ”
Ainsworth could not speak. His heart was hammering so hard he almost missed Enach’s disparaging laugh.
“I paid good coin for your hospitality, innkeeper, and I expect that to include manners as well.”
A stunned silence followed his words.
Ainsworth should say something, he knew. He should leap to Honey’s defense, and curse Enach for his rudeness. How dare he talk to her like that!
“Enach, please. Enough!” He meant for it to come out assertive, for his words to cast a protective net over himself and—although she certainly did not need it with that glare, which was still glowing as strong as ever—Honey.
Sadly, it was more of a feeble croak.
Nevertheless, it won him a triumphant look from Honey, whose molten gaze was starting to fade back toward normal, and rolled eyes from Enach.
Ainsworth cleared his throat and continued tentatively onward.
“It is you who should be courteous to the people who have welcomed me into their home without question.”
Well, Ashe and perhaps Bren excluded.
The look in Enach’s eye was initially all too familiar—a deep, burning fury.
But, unusually, he blinked, and all traces of anger were banished.
“Very well, then. Excuse my tone, innkeeper. It has been…an emotional day.” He sat down on the opposite armchair and picked up his wine.
“Perhaps a night of rest is in order. And then we can get you to a healer tomorrow, Ainsworth.”
Ainsworth did not have the energy to do anything other than nod. But Honey gave his knee a quick squeeze, and before she could move her hand away, he gently placed his on top of hers and squeezed back.