10. Harlow
HARLOW
G uardian’s Crossing teems with people. Raucous laughter and quick fiddle music bring the drunk crowd to a frenzy as I cut down the back hallway and slide up to the bar.
Bea marks my presence immediately. She passes a pitcher of ale to a pretty young waitress and pulls a pint.
She leans over the bar as she hands it to me. “I did background for your new client personally, but between what happened with the last client setting you up and the attack on South Hold, I think you should take a break. Rest up.”
I shake my head as if I can rattle away the memory of Kellan lying in a pool of his own blood. Listening to Bea would mean admitting that I’m losing my edge. This has always been the unnavigable rift between us. Bea has always wanted me to be soft in a way I can’t afford.
I lean over the bar and whisper to keep from being overheard. “I’m fairly certain the setup was courtesy of Rafe. He made a comment about it at my engagement dinner.”
Bea’s eyes darken, and it’s like a cloud has gone over the sun.
All the warmth is erased from her face. “That fucking ghoul. I swear to the Divine, I’m going to choke the life out of that man someday.
” She shakes her head and blows out a slow breath.
“His desire for power is matched only by your father. ”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her that Rafe knows about my magic, but if I tell her, she won’t continue to help me do this work that’s given me a purpose to focus on while I can’t help Aidia. So many things in my life are out of my hands right now, but this is something I can do.
“As for the attack, it was just a couple overzealous men who weren’t as brave as they fancied themselves,” I say. “The real shame is that mother’s fine dishes are no longer with us. May Divine Asher deliver them.”
She frowns, and I know I haven’t sold my apathy.
I squeeze her hand. “I’m fine and I may as well do some good with the last bit of my time here. I leave for Mountain Haven tomorrow. The Havenwoods want to return to the fort and have us married immediately. They don’t feel comfortable staying in the city any longer.”
Bea tilts her head to the side. “You think that’s what the rebels were hoping for? To scare them off?”
I shrug a shoulder. “I think they would have had more men and a more solid plan if they actually wanted to take us out. If you come for all of the high magical families at once, you better not fail, you know?”
Bea nods. “And what better way to cast doubt on your parents’ ability to protect their people than to show it on display to the very people they’ve already failed.”
“So, I suppose this job is my last for a while,” I say. “One last hurrah before Henry makes an honest woman of me.”
“I’m certain no man could handle such a task,” Bea says. She scrubs at a nonexistent spot on the bar, not meeting my eye. “Tell me—what’s he like, this new husband?” She glances up at me and a lock of dark hair falls into her face.
I shove down the desire to tuck it behind her ear. “He’s a man.”
She waits for me to say more, and when I don’t, she bursts out laughing. “Oh, he is in for so much trouble.”
“He’s just a job, Bea. Like you with this bar.”
Her grin grows wider. “Yes, but the difference is when this bar fucks me, it’s metaphorical. That’s not the case with your mountain man.”
I purse my lips. “Jealous?”
She shakes her head and smirks. “It’s different when you love someone.”
“I wouldn’t know, but that’s hardly a concern here.”
She pauses her scrubbing and sets the rag down. “Are you nervous? ”
“No.”
“Liar.”
I knock back half of my beer and burp in the least ladylike way possible. “I’m cautious . I’ve never even left the city gates, and while that’s terrifying, it’s also almost…a relief.”
I see the recognition in Bea’s eyes. She knows what it is to be trapped here, to feel that the same walls that keep you safe also cage you in.
The itch to leave is ever-present. Each time it grows too large to contain, I stand on the top of the South Hold guard towers and stare down into the Drained Wood.
I think of the gray-skinned, clawed creatures lurking in the dark.
I think of their black-hole auras. I imagine fighting my way through the woods.
But I can’t imagine anything beyond.
The concept of escape is too abstract. I’ve heard stories from travelers and tradesmen, but none of it feels more real than the threat of death outside of our city walls.
Beyond the woods might as well be the edge of the world. An adventurous few people have come to visit Lunameade, but the natives don’t leave.
The bar lights go out and the whole crowd groans in unison. The fiddlers play on, but the dancing stops. The fire is bright enough that people aren’t crashing into each other, but not enough that they feel comfortable with such a frenzied dance.
Bea pulls fresh candles from beneath the counter. “As if it doesn’t happen multiple times a week.”
The rolling blackouts are normal, considering how cloudy it gets this time of year, but after an uncommonly sunny fall, people have become accustomed to the ease of sunstone lighting.
It’s not a perfect system, but the Bennetts of East Hold have a blessing from Divine Stellaria that allows them to store light in sunstone.
They’ve built a network of it through the city to provide residents with light.
It’s a limited resource, and priority goes to the gatehouses—which is just another way of saying it goes to the powerful.
For that reason, every household in the city is supplied with a monthly stipend of beeswax candles.
After the attack on Fallen Hold, the wagons of supplies from the outside world slowed and then ground to a halt as the drained population made the woods unsurvivable.
The Crookes, a family of beekeepers, sprang into action, teaching people how to keep hives.
Most households with gardens also keep bees, and my family supplements the rest by hiring unblessed citizens to keep the hives along the walls of the city.
Guardian’s Crossing has several hives on its rooftop garden, and Bea has used the honey to make her signature Sweet Bea’s Wildflower Honey Ale every spring.
The brew is so coveted that people line up around the block on the night of release.
Bea once hinted that the brew paid for a year of maintenance and stock in just one month.
She makes enough for three months because she’s smart enough to know that there’s no better way to charge a premium in this city than to market something as exclusive.
Bea lights several jarred candles, and I help a waitress pass them around the room. A moment later, the revelers are back to their dancing and the blustering cacophony of sounds resumes as if nothing happened.
I bend over the counter and hold out my ale to be topped off.
Bea takes it and fills it to the brim. She leans in close. “When you leave for Fallen Hold and the killing stops, that brother of yours is going to finally figure out who you are.”
I rub the bridge of my nose. “I know. I’ve been trying to come up with something.”
“And?” Bea looks so hopeful.
I twist my mug around on the bar top, drawing a finger through the beer pooling on the wood.
“Josie wants to help,” Bea says, her voice cautious.
I swallow my shock. “Absolutely not.”
“Just listen,” she says, raising her voice as much as she dares. “We don’t need to do much. You’ll be gone for, what? A couple weeks for the wedding? But I imagine you’ll be back for Dark Star Festival. We’ll continue doing intake. And we’ll take on a job or two.”
I hold up a hand. “I’m touched that you want to help, but you’re already more involved than I’d like. It’s too dangerous.”
Bea shakes her head. “Josie has been asking to help for a while—before all this. You know her history.”
I look away. I know her history well. Josie was one of our first clients ever, and she was so grateful for our help that she took over running all the administrative duties at Guardian’s Crossing.
The more I pulled away, the more Bea leaned on Josie. That was fine with me. Bea and I were casual anyway. I have never been good at letting someone in. It was inevitable.
“She’s trustworthy,” Bea says.
“I don’t doubt her trustworthiness, Bea. I would just be devastated if she got hurt, and so would you,” I snap.
A man a few seats down turns to look at us for a moment before going back to his conversation.
Bea’s face softens. “We know enough women with small magic. The girls at the pleasure houses do enough.”
I sigh. Lunameade’s pleasure district is notorious, or at least it was when we used to have regular tourists and visitors. We get very few outside visitors now since the forest is overrun with Drained and impassable to those who aren’t well-trained.
However, the reason they are so popular is that many of the bastards of the magical houses work in the district, and those who can wield small magic like glamours abound. According to Josie, violet eyes like mine are a very popular request of those blessed by Stellaria.
“We can make it work,” Bea says. “Those women are a huge part of our network and they’ve wanted to help for years if you would just?—”
“I’m not putting them at risk,” I say in a harsh whisper. “At least not until I have a strong plan to insulate them from the mess it could make.”
Bea pulls her hand away. She’s not one to sulk, hardened bartender that she is, but I recognize the wounded look in her eyes.
I don’t want to worry her and tell her that Rafe knows about my magic, but the last thing I need is for her and Josie to draw his attention.
“Just give me a little more time and I will come up with something.” I try for placating, but I sound so condescending.
“I know you two can handle yourselves, but these are delicate times, especially after the rebel attack. If I’m not here, there’s no way for me to insulate you.
Assumptions would be made, and I can’t lose you. ”