Chapter 14
ZIG RUBBED HIS HANDS TOGETHER as we stood outside the inn. “So what’s the plan?”
He was unusually chipper for someone who might die if we didn’t find a random person in a random town—his smile wide, his countenance glowing despite the light shadows beneath his eyes.
I didn’t know how or why Zig was so happy.
Even his slouch looked more put together than my whole person, his hair artfully tousled.
It had to be a combination of coffee and the sugar from the pastries he’d shoveled down earlier for our breakfast. He plowed through any and all awkwardness or friction that existed between the group in his usual Zig way, with a skip in his step and a snide comment on the tip of his tongue.
I, on the other hand, was annoyed that I couldn’t rid myself of the grimy feeling that came with travel, though I’d washed up, changed my clothes, brushed my hair, and eaten breakfast. It didn’t help that smoke from the mountains, which spat small bursts of flame in the distance, was swirling through the air.
As I stood in the shimmering heat, despite the fact that it was barely morning, sweat beaded at my neckline even with my hair pulled into a ponytail, and particles of ash and pollen gathered on my tunic and trousers.
“The last person who saw the Elder Beast lived in this town,” Aven said, adjusting the quiver on their back. They had their bow slung across their body and their armguard strapped in place.
“And?” I prompted. I’d left my armor with Bluebell the night before and had not retrieved it.
I didn’t want to be too intimidating to the witness, and I didn’t want to draw attention.
At least this way, I had a bit of anonymity if we needed it.
Although I felt pretty inadequate standing next to Aven in my plain tunic and trousers.
Despite Aven’s more subdued clothes, they still looked every inch a royal, with each lock of black hair in place and not a smudge of dirt on their boots.
Luckily, Aven wasn’t exactly the most well known of the royals, being the cousin of the heir and last in line.
They and Farrah just looked like nobles playing at peasants.
Aven scratched the back of their neck. “They were a smith.”
“And?” I asked again. “Do they have a name?”
Aven tugged at their collar. Were they nervous? “William.”
“William Smith?” I asked, deadpan. Don’t get frustrated.
Don’t get frustrated. “That’s the information you have.
A teenager named William Smith.” Okay. Frustrated.
“Our only hope of finding the location of an invisible realm rests on a person with the most common name and the most common occupation in this not-so-small town.”
Farrah snickered, her perfectly styled curls bobbing gently. She’d somehow managed to do her hair, apply her makeup, and drink her coffee at the same time. A skill that I could never hope to master.
“Well, it’s better than any information you had, Ellinore,” Aven said, defensive.
“Aven,” I shot back, “we can’t spend days asking around for the correct William Smith!”
Zig rubbed his temple. “I swear this unresolved sexual tension is going to kill me. Literally.” He clapped his hands before I could even deny having any amount of tension with Aven at all. “Fine. You two bicker while Farrah and I start asking around. Come on, Farrah.”
She gleefully brushed past me and skipped to Zig’s side.
With all the confidence of someone who had neither an ounce of self-consciousness nor self-preservation skills, Zig sauntered up to the first person he encountered on the street and flashed a winning smile.
“Hi,” he said, hands clasped behind his back.
“We’re looking for a William Smith. Do you happen to know someone by that name? ”
The man, who was stooped with age, stroked his grizzled beard. “Oh, for sure,” he said in a crackly voice. “I know a William Smith.”
Zig looked over his shoulder at me with a smug expression in a true I told you so manner.
“I also know a Bill Smith, a Billie Smith, a Will Smith, and a Liam Smith.”
Zig blinked several times in succession but managed to keep his smile plastered on, though it went a bit stiff. “Oh.”
“That’s a lot of Smiths,” Farrah said quietly.
“There is also William Smith Jr. and his son, who is the Third, and a cousin who is also a William Smith Jr.”
Zig’s frozen grin slowly thawed and fell into a grimace. “Oh.”
Farrah rubbed his shoulder in sympathy.
“And there is a Guy Smith whose given name is William.”
Aven stepped in before the gentleman could continue. “Could you tell us where we can find… one of them?”
“Depends on which one you want. Unless you want to know where all of them are.”
This was going nowhere. Time to intervene like Ellinore the Brave would. “Is there one that might be an adventurer or a scholar? Maybe a bard?”
He cocked his head to the side in thought. “Oh, you want William Smith.”
I bit my tongue to keep from screaming and merely nodded.
“Well, he’s dead. He died fifty years ago at the old age of sixty-five.”
Zig’s shoulders drooped.
A hundred years ago. If our witness was fifteen when he saw the Elder Beast, that meant the account was a hundred years old. I shot Aven the most lethal look I could muster. They shifted nervously, tugged at their collar again, and ran a hand through their hair, mussing up the style.
“How old was that scroll?” I whispered fiercely.
“It wasn’t ancient?”
“That’s specific,” I shot back.
“You know, for someone who had no plan before I showed up, you’re being awfully picky.”
Ugh. They were right. I had no other option, save for the cloth that would take three days off the quest, if we could even figure out how to activate it. We were back to square one.
“Thank you for your time,” Farrah said sweetly.
“Yeah. Thanks,” Zig echoed, clapping the old man on the arm, a cloud of dust puffing up as he did.
We turned away, each of us quiet. I had no idea what to do next. What could I do? We’d ridden all the way to Ashin and—
“He has a grandson.”
I perked up from my disheartened slump and spun around. “He has a grandson?” I asked. “Where would we find him?”
“He’s an odd one, just like his granddad,” the man continued as if he hadn’t heard me. “Always fiddling around with magic. And talking about heroes and writing songs with his lute.”
Okay. The grandson was both a mage and a bard. The two worst occupations ever. But no one was perfect. And I could look beyond that if he knew the location of the Elder Beast.
“What’s his name?” Zig butted in.
Please not another William. Please not another William. Please not another William.
“Rylan.”
“Oh, thank the ancients,” Aven muttered.
I shoved my elbow into their side. “Where can we find Rylan?”
The older man squinted up at the sun. “Oh, he’s a late riser, so I’ve heard.
About this time of day he’d be at home, I think.
It’s just on the outskirts of town, on the far side, past the old quake gauge.
The one with the statue, not the one on the other side of town.
That’s the new quake gauge. Once you pass the statue, go down the path and it’ll be the first farm on the right. ”
“Thank you,” Zig said, grabbing the man’s hand and pumping it up and down vigorously. “Here is a gold coin for your time.”
The man immediately stuck it in his mouth and bit down. “Oh, it’s real,” he said as we took off briskly down the street.
“That’s the wrong way! The old gauge is south.”
The four of us skidded to a stop, then sheepishly turned as a group and went back the other way.
“Well, well, well,” Zig said as we stood in front of the old quake gauge. “It’s so nice to see the positive outcomes of my famous sister so wonderfully and hilariously documented by this town.”
I stared in horrified awe at the shoulder-high statue and plaque placed next to the broken quake gauge.
The statue was an… interpretive piece, to put it nicely.
It was supposed to be me, per the small sign at its base, but…
it looked more like an indistinguishable lump of volcanic glass that had been fashioned and shaped into some kind of cylinder.
The slate next to it had the story of the broken gauge, and my bit part in it, engraved on the surface.
Farrah tilted her head to the side. “Well, it’s… something. I mean, it’s nice they wanted to commemorate your achievement.”
Aven was looking everywhere but at the statue.
I wanted to die.
The quake gauge itself was a pendulum, a heavy ball on the end of a stiff rope that hung over a pit of sand.
When the earth shook, as we had already experienced and which happened in and around Ashin often, the pendulum would swing, and the residents would measure the force of the earthquake by the length of the etches made in the sand.
However, this one was broken, forever immortalizing the day Ashin felt the worst quake in its existence.
Not to mention the creation of the Simmer. But that was something I’d keep to myself.
“It says here,” Farrah said, finger trailing over the lines on the plaque, a smile twitching at the edge of her mouth, “that a few years ago Ashin had experienced increasingly violent earthquakes, resulting in the breaking of this implement. Which indicated a potential eruption of the nearby peak. Until Ellinore intervened, wrestled the fire elemental of the mountain, and stopped the eruption from happening.”
I covered my face with my hands in abject embarrassment.
“My sister is so reserved and humble when it comes to her accomplishments,” Zig said, poking me in the side. “Wouldn’t you say, Aven?”
“No!” I dropped my hands. “Do not answer that! We’re leaving!”
“But is it true?” Farrah asked, blinking her big brown eyes. “Did you wrestle a mountain spirit?”
I froze. That was the first time anyone had ever asked if something was true. I wanted to applaud Farrah for her critical thinking skills, but I also wanted to sink into the ground.
“Of course it is,” Aven said.
I startled. Oh. They believed in me. They had faith in me that I didn’t deserve.
They unknowingly saved me by intervening in what could’ve turned into a tense and revealing conversation.
And suddenly I could forgive them for their shoddy information about a witness that almost didn’t pan out.
And for some weird reason, my face heated with a blush, and my stomach lurched with a feeling that made me want to vomit.
I pointed my finger at them. “Do not put this in your report to the king!”
They slowly smirked. “But he would want to know about this historically important event that occurred in his kingdom.”
Zig cackled. My face was on fire. “Aven, I will—”
“Stab me with your sword. Yeah. I know.” Their eyes sparkled with mirth. And oh, I couldn’t decide if I did or did not enjoy being on the other side of our teasing relationship.
“Shut up,” I mumbled.
“Oh!” Farrah said, straightening from where she’d been poking at the lump of metal with my name on it. She twisted her fingers, her staff in the crook of her elbow. “This reminds me. I thought about it last night, Ellinore, and I do want to learn a disarming move.”
“Oh,” I said, grateful for anything to take the attention off that awful statue. “Okay. That’s great.”
“Good! When will you teach me?”
“Um… not right now? We’re kind of in the middle of something…”
“Oh! Right.” She nodded in understanding.
“Anyway, we’re wasting valuable time,” I said with a tight grin. “Let’s go.”
Zig didn’t move. “Already? But I want to bask in your glory! After all, this statue is a stunning reflection of—”
I pushed Zig forcefully away, shoving him toward the path at the edge of the town that led to the farms, as he laughed wildly.
“First farm on the right, jerk. Keep walking.”