Chapter 9
I STARED DOWN AT THE parchment the mage had given me, with the magically drawn candle. It had burned down a mark, the flickering ink-flame blurring with movement as small drips of wax flowed slowly down the sides. It was like I was watching Zig’s life melt away.
“Ready?” Zig asked, coming up behind me and yawning.
I hastily rolled the parchment candle and shoved it and the blank scrap of cloth into the bag at my hip.
“Yes,” I said as we walked out our door.
After Aven had left for the inn the night before, Zig had gone out to find someone to either buy the sheep or take care of them while we were gone, and I had descended into a packing frenzy.
This wasn’t an ordinary quest, by any means.
First, the stakes were much higher than a purse of gold.
And second, I wouldn’t be working alone.
Which meant days of grungy, smelly Ellinore on the trail wouldn’t do.
I then proceeded to shove enough items into my saddlebag for our days of questing.
Thankfully, I’d just finished my cycle, but I squeezed as many small cloths as possible into the bottom, just in case.
And on top, three extra changes of clothes, including additional breast bindings, which were essential under my armor.
Plus, I added a full bar of soap wrapped in washcloths.
I shoved a small sack of gold into the bag among the clothes.
As Zig and I walked outside, I inwardly cringed at the sight of my saddlebags bulging at Bluebell’s flank, stuffed full with more than I’d ever take traveling alone. My sword was strapped to the other side of my saddle. I hoped I wouldn’t need to use it, but I was aware of the high chance I would.
“Do you have a weapon?” I asked abruptly in the silence of the rising dawn.
Zig arched an eyebrow. “A weapon?”
“Like a sword or a knife. I don’t know, a pointy stick. Something more than a deck of cards or a pair of dice. A way to protect yourself in case we get into trouble.”
“Are you expecting trouble?” he asked.
“Um… yes! First, I’m traveling with you, and your very existence courts trouble. And second, we’re looking for a mythical creature! We’re going to run into at least one dangerous situation.”
“You’ll save me,” he said with a sassy grin and a punch to my arm.
“But what if we get separated?” I asked. “What if something happens to me and you need to protect yourself? What if you can’t run away like you normally do? What if—”
“You’re really worried about it, aren’t you?” he asked.
“Yes!” I threw up my hands. “Of course I am. This whole quest is to save you. If I weren’t worried about you, then I wouldn’t even be doing this. You could at least have the courtesy to take this seriously.”
Zig’s eyes widened, and he held up his palms in a placating gesture.
“Okay. I am. And yes, I have a small dagger.” He did something complicated with his fingers, and a playing card popped from his sleeve.
I arched an eyebrow until he tilted it up to reveal a blade no longer than my pointer finger, the handle tucked in close to his wrist. “I’m not as foolish as you think I am.
I’m always armed just in case I piss off the wrong people. ”
I blew out my breath. “You could’ve just said yes.”
“What’s the fun in that?”
I returned the punch in the arm, but I did it with far more force. He winced and rubbed the spot while pouting.
“Okay. If you’re ready, let’s go.”
I mounted Bluebell with ease, while Zig unsteadily hopped onto the back of a mule named Carrot that he’d somehow acquired.
I didn’t ask questions. At least the mule could help carry our gear, though I wasn’t sure how fast she would be if we needed to push the pace.
Zig’s discomfort in the saddle suggested we wouldn’t be able to move very quickly even if he had a horse.
I clicked my tongue and nudged Bluebell forward. Zig followed behind. It wasn’t a long ride to the center of town, and soon we found ourselves outside the inn. Aven was waiting for us on the covered porch, steed already saddled and ready, despite the sky only just lightening with the dawn.
“Good morning,” Aven said lazily, feet propped on the hitching post while they crunched on an apple. They were unfairly put together for it being so early. I’d barely managed to brush my hair, and Zig looked like he’d just rolled out of bed.
“Ready?” they asked. I noticed they had ditched the finer clothes they’d been wearing when they arrived, instead settling on a simple black belted tunic and black breeches. There was not a stitch of embroidery in sight, though their clothes were still far nicer than anything I owned.
I hunched down in my tattered hooded cloak, which covered my tunic and pair of sturdy traveling trousers. My armor was tied to the back of Bluebell because I wasn’t expecting a fight on the first day.
“Yes. Once you tell us where we are going,” I said.
Aven stood, their blue eyes bright in the rising sun. As they swung their own traveling cloak over their shoulders, I spied the leather guard strapped to their left arm, used to protect against the snap of a bowstring.
“I found a scroll tucked away in the palace archives,” Aven explained as they mounted their impressive white stallion.
They tucked their shiny black boots into the stirrups and placed their bow across the pommel of their saddle for quick retrieval.
“And it said the last person to see the Elder Beast was a teenager who lived in the town of Ashin.”
“Why does that sound familiar?” Zig asked.
Aven shrugged. “It’s at the base of the Melting Peaks.”
Zig snapped his fingers. “Oh, right!” He poked my arm—in reach, as he’d maneuvered Carrot close to my side. “Isn’t that the place where you saved the village from the wrath of the mountain ancients by wrestling them into submission? The earth quaked and you stopped the eruption or whatever.”
I bit back a groan. “Something like that,” I said.
It was actually a nest of fire salamanders causing a ruckus around the caldera that gave the mountains their name.
Dave assisted me with herding the salamanders toward a less volatile environment.
And while I was doing so, it just so happened that there was an earthquake.
The townsfolk made up their own story, and I… didn’t correct them.
The town of Ashin was rather isolated. Towering mountains blocked it on the northern border.
To the east was the sea, and to the west and south was a long river.
The headwaters of said river were boiling hot but cooled as the water flowed south.
The quickest way to the town would be dangerous, but the safe route would take too long.
I knocked my heels against Bluebell’s sides and pushed past my traveling companions to stand in the middle of the road.
“It’s not my favorite place. The ground tends to…
rumble.” Bluebell danced beneath me. She could feel the tension in my thighs, alerting her to my own anxiety, so she responded in kind.
Zig fidgeted in his seat atop his mule, while Aven was unfairly calm.
“Ashin is a two-day ride due northeast as the crow flies,” I said, pulling the hood of my cloak up to shade my eyes in the face of the rising sun.
“How certain are you about your information?”
Aven eyed me and I felt pinned. “Fairly certain.”
I squinted at the horizon. “I’m not sure I can bet my brother’s life on ‘fairly certain.’ We have fourteen days now. We’re on a tight timeline.”
“Do you have a better idea of a starting point?”
The image of the burning candle on the parchment wavered in my mind’s eye. “No. I don’t. I just want to make sure we’re utilizing our time wisely.”
“Do you think arguing is a good use, then?” Zig piped up behind me.
Aven smirked. “Your brother has a point.”
I narrowed my eyes, shooting Aven a scathing look. “Fine.”
“Good,” Aven answered quickly.
“Okay.”
Zig maneuvered Carrot between me and Aven, head swiveling between us. “Are we going?”
“Yes!” Ancients! I couldn’t allow Aven to crawl under my skin so easily, or this would be a long trip. I schooled my expression. “Let’s go find the Elder Beast.”
And then we were off.
We rode for the morning, allowing our mounts to rest as needed.
Carrot surprisingly kept up with us, despite Zig’s complaints about the pace of our travel.
I reminded him of his insistence on accompanying me on the quest, and he quieted to muttering disparaging remarks beneath his breath. We took lunch in a small clearing.
After, we found the main road and followed it east until we came to a crossroads.
I slowed Bluebell to a halt.
The fork to the right was the safer way toward the town, hooking to the south, then crossing the river into the outskirts of Ashin. But it was longer, by at least a day. The road to the left was much less traveled as of a few years ago and had become overgrown. But it was faster. Much faster.
“Why are we stopping? Are we camping here?” Zig asked, his hands clasped in a hopeful plea.
I didn’t answer him.
“Ah, the crossroads,” Aven said, pulling up beside me on their horse. “A difficult debate, to be sure, though”—they jerked their chin toward the rugged path—“crossing the Simmer would make for a rousing story for my uncle and the court bards.” Their smug grin was annoyingly bright and… pretty.
My eye twitched, but Aven wasn’t wrong. The exciting route was to the left.
The right had calmer, cooler waters, several different crossings, and even a ferry we could use to travel into the town.
If I were on my own, I’d take the safer path.
But… Aven would be reporting to the king, and Zig was expecting the famous Ellinore the Brave.
I had to think of what the bards would write, what the court would want to hear, and take the action they believed I would as the person they thought I was. Even if it was riskier.