Chapter 27 #2
It is more uncomfortable than I thought imaginable, riding a horse. But I can’t let Ronan have the satisfaction he desires in seeing me walk alongside them. He won’t have the high ground any longer. I won’t let him.
Or so was my plan, but the last horse the stable hand has available is a pony—stalky and half the size of the mare and stallion the prince and his fairy aide ride.
At least the palomino pony has a pretty name: Clove.
The spice used in many herbal remedies to preserve life in the sick and dying. The name is auspicious.
Ramiel is tethered to Ronan’s horse with a thick rope.
I lead the group, wearing a heavy cloak to hide the maid’s clothes beneath.
From my understanding, it had been difficult to get me into the castle before.
But with the king knowing who I am… I’m sure at this point, a cloak is unnecessary.
Would the king harm me, knowing how much is at stake?
I twist the leather reins in my hands and bristle at the sores already forming along my inner thighs. We’ve not been riding for even fifteen minutes, and I already wish to abandon my mount.
Once we are through the human town surrounding the castle, trees thicken around us, and the path turns from polished stone to dirt. As we get farther from the castle, my eluviam swells in my chest, like it’s waking from a long nap and stretching its arms.
Ramiel has foregone wearing a mask to conceal his features. Either he forgot to put one on, or he’s confident no one will question his appearance now that his face has been warped enough to silence any question his wealth and family ring may have raised.
We ride in silence, the growing distance from the castle bringing a shift I can feel deep in my bones.
I glance over at Ramiel, noting the ease in his posture despite the weight of his surroundings.
He seems unaware of the way the land itself seems to hum in response to his presence, just as I can feel it responding to mine.
A little more than two hours later, we cross the boundary along the east side of Aldorin.
Passing over the forest’s threshold is the difference between night and day.
The points of my ears stretch to their full lengths, and my canines extend.
My feet suddenly feel cramped in the small human shoes I wear, so I kick them off before they can split down the seams. Freedom weighs heavy in my bones, filling the empty cavities with the swath of magic that usually thrives there.
I breathe in the zephyr of cedar drifting across the path and sigh.
All my worries from the past two weeks seem to glide from my shoulders and greet the air.
The strange prophecy I’d found, the jars of klopses and other Aldorin creatures, the mark that binds me to the human prince—all reduce to a low hum of peace.
Even my encounter with the king feels like a terrible nightmare, far from reality.
I can almost pretend I’m not actively tasked with sabotaging the prince’s chances at ascending the throne.
In my next breath, the crisp scent of yeast mixes with the woody musk of the forest, nearly lifting me off of Clove. I swallow the thin pool of saliva drifting over my tongue.
I stop, smiling as I point to the right, where the bushes are parted slightly and a weak, brush-filled path veers off from the main road. The prince and his aide pull their horses to a halt behind me.
“Pally’s on the Bend is a straight shot through the thick. It welcomes all travelers, so it would be the perfect place to stay for the night. The sun should be tucked away before we arrive.” I lift my nose to the sky and savor the smell of fresh bread floating in the breeze. “Can you smell it?”
Ronan raises his eyebrows incredulously. I ignore him. Ramiel makes a subtle movement with his neck as he tips his nose skyward for a good whiff. A smile pulls his lips over his teeth.
“Yes, it smells delicious.” He sighs before sniffing again.
“But are you sure Pally’s is this direction?
Ronan and I had visited a tavern with the same name before, and it was farther north, near Arcanvale.
” His eyes widen. “Also, Pluto had told us horses are not allowed in Aldorin. Will we be alright?”
I quirk an eyebrow, then curse under my breath when I remember the prince can’t see my expressions. The habit will have to die eventually.
I laugh it off before Ronan catches me.
I’m getting more used to the sound of my laughter, now. It’s freeing, so much that it grows louder in spite of itself, and I have no choice but to smother it with a fist and a cough so as not to seem strange.
“Yes, we will be fine. No one here owns horses, though. They’re revered, and therefore left to roam. The worst thing that could happen would be a few disapproving looks,” I say with a wave of my hand. The gesture is more for my assurance than his.
“And Pally, as I’m sure you’ve experienced from your last visit, is quite hospitable.
She is an ally of my people.” I steer Clove with the reins, and she hooves the dirt to turn herself toward the bushes.
“Her tavern is magical. It has multiple access points. Its power relies on the Aldorin ley lines. Thank the gods for it too, or Pally wouldn’t have anywhere to go.
” I flash my teeth at Ronan, who looks to be hearing this information for the first time.
I savor the fascination that briefly appears in his expression.
“What do you mean?” Ramiel says, his eyebrows pinching together.
“She’s a Susali. Half boar, half…something else.
And she once killed a dragon for her own selfish gain.
You should know better than anyone how punishable that sort of act is.
After consuming the beast’s eluviam, she was immediately cursed twofold.
Bound to reside exclusively in her tavern and to bear the dragon’s image, its scales and wings now a permanent part of her form.
” I pause, glancing between the two men who seem invested in the lore behind the tavern they’d visited.
I continue. “She had many taverns built thereafter. The best witches were called to enchant beacon crystals to tie her soul to the identical taverns. She can visit any one of them whenever it pleases her. This one, I’ve never been to.
Perhaps it’s new.” I sweep my arm forward, aiming at the bushes veering from our path. “Shall we?”
Ramiel gapes with awe and nods. “Yes, let’s.”
I give Clove a soft pat with my palm to get her going. She whinnies as she sets the pace for the other two horses.
Twigs crack beneath us as we weave between leafy bushes that tickle my legs and arms. Thankfully, it takes less than an hour to reach Pally’s.
I’d been wrong about how long it would take, and I’m glad for it.
The men seem to be relieved too. And the sun, as I’d predicted, has retreated to the horizon, clearing the sky for the smiling moon.
There’s a humble shed where our horses will be stabled. I’ve never seen stables before in Aldorin. I never needed to notice, I guess. Pally’s is welcoming even to the traveling human soldier.
I help Ramiel from his horse before turning away to massage my legs.
Ronan grabs the reins from each of us and ties the horses to posts. He joins us as we walk to the blue-gray building. Pitch peels from the doorframe, and Pally’s infamous wooden sign dangles above the threshold like a slaver’s coin.
Ronan links Ramiel to his arm. I pull the entrance’s copper handle, and a bell rings as the door swings open.
A thin layer of smoke wisps across the ceiling.
The entire building smells like sweet yeast and warmth, and fond memories replay in my head: Pluto smiling as he bites into a berry-stuffed loaf, me laughing because the stuff somehow smeared across his nose.
The time we enjoyed before such joyful expression was outlawed.
Beneath a skinny wooden staircase, a door pops open and a short, stout woman with frizzy taupe hair waddles over to us.
A toothpick sticks between clenched teeth, and a flour-covered apron flutters over her pale blue skirt.
Her yellow eyes glow as she scans us, but her gaze settles on me.
Her gold-tinted skin flushes with recognition.
“Ether, my vylka , where have ya been?” she squeals, her drawl and Susali accent mixing together. The nickname she’d given me when I was a girl warms me. Vylka means “treasured.” She’d also, on occasion, called Pluto her vylka .
Before I can answer, the pig-faced woman is already patting my head heavily and belting that big, ugly laugh only she can pull off.
“Come now, do stay a while. Let me get ya something to eat, my vylka. Are these your…friends?” Her beady eyes appraise the men behind me, and I wonder for a second if they’ve done something to lose her favor.
Then she turns around the counter with a flourish, searching in dusty cabinets for her “on-the-house” treats.
They must’ve not offended her so badly that she’d refuse to feed them.
“Yes...friends,” I say lightly. “We’d also like rooms for the night, ma’am. Do you have any to spare for us?”
Pally cackles as she withdraws three flat squares of unleavened bread, then skitters around the corner. “I always have rooms. How many ya need?”
She reaches for my hand, placing the square on my palm. She does the same for Ramiel and Ronan before moving away to view us all together. Her golden eyes sparkle like coins as she awaits my response.
“Three would be perfect,” I say, lifting the bread to my lips. My thoughts nibble at her reasoning for asking a question with such an obvious answer.
“What a well-to-do bunch,” she murmurs. Her eyes flit to me. “Vylka, where did ya find such… handsome young men?”
The innkeeper chuckles when I don’t respond.
“Ah, let me check which rooms are available. Not many travelers come through these parts, as ya know. But we always have our long-term guests. Never wanna leave, those ones. But it brings me business, and that’s all I need.
” With a slow and awkward wink, she turns around and hobbles to the counter, where she scrambles through drawers to find the keys.
I take two bites of the bread, and it’s gone. Like with all her baked goods, though, the moisture in my stomach will help the bread cure my hunger. My eluviam swells with a miniature jolt of energy as the magical ingredients separate from the flour and water.
Ronan eats his also, and for a moment, I sense the energy spiking within him, but then it disappears at once, shut off from me and anyone else around us.
I scoff at him. Of course he’d want to use whatever energy he has to hide his identity. But if Ramiel has noticed his magic before, why cover it up? From what I can tell, the prince is oblivious to the fact that the fairy’s elixirs are not radiating the same level of energy as his eluviam is.
He avoids my stare, tapping on Ramiel’s outstretched arm. “You can eat this. It will restore your eluviam.”
“Restore?” the prince asks, skeptical.
Ronan laughs. “Yes. You might feel weird at first, if Ether’s expression is any indicator.”
Speak for yourself.
I roll my eyes.
Ramiel takes a bite, then proceeds to shove the whole thing in his mouth. The dry, loud chewing and grimaces that flash across the lower half of his face are to be expected. The stuff is probably years old, but it still does the trick.
He swallows, gagging.
“Aha! I found two rooms. Boys in one, Ether in the other?” she asks, her voice crisp.
“Of course,” Ronan barks, not paying mind to his rudeness. Pally flinches as she steps forward, dangling the key above his already-outstretched hand.
“Yours is the first on the right, up those stairs,” she says, dropping the rusty thing into his palm.
Ramiel coughs a few more times as I receive my room key from the baker. She winks as she tells me it’s the last one on the left.
I take her warm, swollen hands in mine. “Thank you. And would you also please grab him something to drink? He’s…not used to the food of the forest.”
Her sunflower eyes bloom, petals unraveling.
“Oh, I know, he visited once before.” She spares a glance at him and frowns.
“But he’s different from how I remember him.
” Her hand cups her mouth as she whispers, “Ya know, other than your friend, the last time I hosted a human was during the last war at the Separation. He had been shady as the seven hells, I tell ya. Covered his face in a metallic mask, made his servants speak for him, and never left any gratuity.” She clicks her tongue thrice in disapproval.
“Well, I can assure you that these humans speak. And we will give you a boon you’ll be dreaming about long after,” I say with a wink. Because Ronan is presenting as a human, the honesty curse doesn’t kick in. I release a sigh.
“I know you will, vylka. Don’t worry, I will let anyone stay if they wish to, as long as they keep their business to themselves. I’ve got a lot more to be worried about than…” Her expression stiffens, eyes widening and nostrils flaring. “Aw shoot, my sourdough!”
The woman dashes away on little feet, and as she disappears behind the door beneath the stairs, she wishes us a rushed, “Good night!”
“Will she still bring Ramiel water?” Ronan snarls.
I shrug, trying not to bristle at his unwelcome hostility. “He’s probably fine now. He stopped coughing. It’s about time we sleep, anyway. Shall we?”
The fairy raises a brow at me. “You? Sleep ? Did having small feet and round ears for a few weeks make you loony?”
I dart a glare at him. He knows I don’t require a lot of sleep now that Aldorin’s magic is thrumming in my veins and Pally’s bread has energized my eluviam. He’s just trying to get under my skin.
“Whatever,” I huff. “I’ll see you both tomorrow.”
I’m too fatigued from his mind games to bother with pursuing our usual banter.
I ignore the longing in my right arm, resonating with Ramiel’s lost expression. There will be no training tonight. Which means we won’t be in each other’s company.
Gripping the rusty key, I march past the prince and the fairy, up the rickety wooden staircase, and down the hall to the last room on the left.