50 Hugo
Hugo
Hugo looked down on Giant’s Gate, one of Astra’s oldest settlements, just as the sun hit its midday peak. The people in Giant’s
Gate lived largely outside of the jurisdiction of the Iron Empire. Yes, they were part of the empire, but in name only. Hugo
remembered as he looked down on the small town when Lord General Kerrigan had told him to leave the Gate alone, that the Gate
was ungovernable and the Iron Empire would “handle them in due time.” He’d watched this town from where he stood one time
before, as he left Luwha in shambles all those years ago. His life was so different then, and so much worse.
He motioned for Eira to follow as they took the path down the mountain, thick trees and deep snow making their progress slow.
Evangeline had slept most of the journey propped against his back, silence falling comfortably between the two of them when
she was awake. Hugo didn’t know when, but somewhere in the past weeks it seemed like Evangeline had started to trust him,
maybe.
The occupants of the town watched the two horses with curiosity, and a little bit of hostility, as they rode into the small village.
Hugo saw Eira gently smile at some of the people, trying to seem friendly while each of them stared at her with stony expressions.
He led them to the center of the tiny town, where a worn wooden sign that simply read Tavern hung from the doorway of a building.
Hugo hopped off the horse and lifted Evangeline down.
“I can walk,” she said, her skin sallow and clammy. “I’ll be okay.”
“Let me help you,” Eira said, hopping off of Arthur, her skirts hitched to her belt to stop them from getting soaked from
the snow.
“We can’t show these people that one of us can’t walk . . . it’s dangerous,” Evangeline whispered.
Eira’s face dropped as she realized what Evangeline was saying.
“Let’s just go inside,” Hugo said, slowly walking toward the tavern to not leave Evangeline alone.
Once inside, the tavern wasn’t much different than any of the ones they’d been to in the past few weeks as they traveled Astra.
The three patrons inside eating a delicious-smelling meal stopped, one of them with their spoon halfway to their mouth, to
watch Hugo, Eira, and Evangeline hobble into the room.
“What can I help you with?” the elderly woman behind the bar croaked.
“Hi there,” Eira said, smiling, a scowl from the woman the only response she received before a long, awkward pause.
“We’re not used to getting many outsiders here,” the woman finally said.
“We’re hoping to grab two rooms for the night and . . . we’re looking for the Old Witch,” Hugo said, getting straight to the point. Part of him hoped they’d be able to get this all done today, sleep, and then get the hell out of this frozen-over, wild town.
The woman’s eyes turned icy. “What do you need with the Old Witch?”
“I’d feel more comfortable speaking to the witch about our reasons,” Hugo said, not wanting to share more details than absolutely
necessary in front of this woman and the random patrons in the room with them.
“I’m not letting you anywhere near the witch until I know what you need,” the barmaid continued. “Feel free to not tell me
and spend the night, but without my okay you’ll never get her help.”
Hugo could feel anger rising in his chest. Why couldn’t one part of this be easy? He suddenly felt Eira’s hand on his arm, a gentle squeeze on his bicep.
“It’s okay,” Eira said to him, before looking at the barmaid. “I cast a memory spell that was supposed to be temporary. I
botched the casting, and I’ve been left without my memories. I’m hoping that this witch can help me get those memories back.”
The barmaid turned to Eira. “You’re a memory witch?”
Hugo watched them stare at each other, a moment of challenge between the two women. He desperately hoped Eira wouldn’t tell
her, but already knew she would.
“Apparently I was . . .” she said. “But my memory on how to cast that magic is gone. I want it back, I need it back.”
The woman’s eyes widened, curiosity filling them. “Not many of us left,” she said, one eyebrow cocked. Hugo couldn’t help
but notice her use of the word us.
“I’ve heard.” Eira nodded.
Hugo looked to Evangeline, who had sat on a stool, her face growing paler by the minute. They really shouldn’t have traveled with her in such a fragile state. She was out of the woods, but barely.
“All right then,” the barmaid said, lifting the bar counter and ushering them in. “I’m Willow, the witch you’ve been looking
for.”
Hugo sighed through his nose. Of course.