Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
C onnell Cross looked like any other tiny village I had had the privilege—and I used that term loosely—of visiting.
Generally, I stayed away from the smaller settlements in favor of cities.
Strangers, particularly those with my features, stood out in small towns, whereas I could be anonymous in a city.
The other reason I limited my stays in small towns was that I preferred city conveniences.
Unlike Imalfi and her crew, I did not appreciate sleeping around a campfire in the woods, under a sky that could rain at any moment.
I liked actual beds too much. It was always a risk to stop at an inn, but one I was willing to chance for a bed, a roof over my head, and a hot meal.
Even if I had to pay more than a full-blood human for the pleasure.
Connell Cross had the typical amenities one would expect to see in a village—an inn, a smithy, a stable, and a shared oven in the center of the village square with a handful of women and men loitering about, chatting despite the encroaching darkness and the lateness of the hour.
Warm lanterns lit the town square, and a pair of villagers made music with a rudimentary flute and drum.
I had half-feared we’d find the village a mess of smoldering stones, with the structures razed and people dead in the streets, so the normal scene in front of us was strangely unsettling.
“I suppose we should stop at the inn and listen for news,” Kason said.
“We should enter separately.”
Kason whipped his head around. “What? Why?”
With a brow raised, I flicked one of my ears. The inn run by the followers of the Sightless God had been an exception to the general rule of discrimination I faced at such establishments, and I had no hopes we would avoid it here.
Kason scoffed. “I’m not splitting up because of that. Come on.”
With a sigh at my companion’s na?veté, I accompanied him through the doors of the inn.
To my surprise, entering an establishment with Kason—as an equal, not a prisoner—was not the experience I’d feared.
Yes, the people seated at the tables in the dining room area paused their conversations to look at who’d entered, but their gazes seemed stuck on Kason.
He made an impressive figure now that his energy and health were restored—standing tall and strong, his power humming around him.
Huh. Strange that the feel of Kason’s reinvigorated magic didn’t make me uncomfortable.
Before, when Kason had gotten close enough to almost catch me, my gut had clenched at the feeling of the witch-hunter’s power, how it clashed with my own.
That didn’t seem to be the case anymore.
So odd.
The innkeeper emerged from what I assumed was the kitchen, tucked out of sight behind a thick, sturdy bar made of dark wood. She was a rotund woman, her pale skin flushed with the heat of the stoves. “How can I help you, sir?”
“We’ll need a room for the night, please.”
The innkeeper’s eyes finally landed on me, and they tightened at the edges. “For you and your…” She trailed off expectantly.
“My h?—”
“Valet.” I spoke over Kason. I felt the witch-hunter’s glare on me, but didn’t meet his eyes.
The innkeeper visibly relaxed, her perception of the world safe in its bigotry. “Of course. I’ll show you to your room, then you’re welcome to dinner. Tonight’s fare is a hearty mutton stew.”
Which was probably tomorrow night’s fare too. I barely kept from rolling my eyes as I trailed behind Kason and the innkeeper up to our room. It was a decent size, with two beds—thank the gods—and a small table with two chairs. All in all, not the worst room at an inn that I had ever seen.
As soon as the innkeeper’s heavy steps reached the stairs on her way back to the kitchen, Kason turned on me, his eyes flashing. “What was that?”
My brows twitched. “What was what?”
“‘Valet,’” Kason repeated snidely. “You’re not my servant .”
“Did you see how she relaxed when I said that?”
“I don’t care if she’s uncomfortable. And you shouldn’t either.”
I barked out a laugh and dropped my pack at the end of the bed. “Spoken like someone who doesn’t have to deal with that shit on a regular basis.”
“You shouldn’t belittle yourself to fit into their narrow worldviews.”
I shook my head. “I shouldn’t have to,” I said, “but I do. You don’t get it. Being me is exhausting. I don’t have the energy to fight every battle I come across.”
Kason’s gaze softened. I wasn’t sure what part of my words had elicited that reaction, but it was remarkable to see the change.
I’d thought, over the past days together, I’d seen every element of Kason, but this wasn’t a softening of his stance due to fatigue or worry, or a need to reassure me with lies that he was fine. This was…
Affection?
Before I could question it any further, Kason slapped a hand on his thigh. “Right. Time for reconnaissance.”
I arched a brow. “Maybe we should, I don’t know, wash up first?”
“Oh. Yes.” Kason cleared his throat, and was that a bit of color rising in his cheeks? “After you.”
I rolled my eyes at my companion’s weirdness and proceeded to get ready for dinner.
I had a mental image of Kason as a bumbling oaf when it came to getting information out of people, but after a few moments of sitting beside him in the dining room and listening to him expertly nudge people verbally, I wasn’t sure where that image had come from.
Wishful thinking? Of course Kason had to be somewhat skilled at getting information.
How else would he be able to track the so-called evil witches who needed hunting?
But…he was exceptionally skilled.
First, he was friendly. He introduced himself with a smile, then dove into his meal without providing any further details.
But it was obvious to me that Kason was listening to every word spoken by the two men and one woman sitting at the table next to us.
I was as well, though the names meant nothing to me and the stories were even less interesting.
About halfway through dinner, Kason deftly jumped into the conversation, providing an opinion on something—gods knew what—that aligned with that of the speakers.
After that, they fully included him in what they were talking about, and when Kason casually let it drop that he was a witch-hunter for the crown, he had them completely in his hands.
By this point, our dinner was done, and we’d gathered a crowd—or, rather, Kason had with his story of a particular hunt that made me tense up.
Not out of fear for the poor witch Kason was hunting, but for Kason himself.
The witch had been murdering travelers along a well-used road, and Kason had set himself up as bait.
No, I didn’t like that story at all.
But, of course, it ended well, with Kason dragging the witch off to the capital to be judged, and his audience let out a sigh of relief.
The innkeeper set a new mug of ale in front of Kason, and he shot the man a smile of thanks.
Of course the innkeeper didn’t notice my mug was empty as well. Humans.
An elderly man sitting at the table next to us cleared his throat. “It might be providence that you’re here now.”
Kason sipped his ale casually. “Oh?”
I cradled my empty mug in my hands, trying not to show any excitement over the man’s words. Finally .
“Aye.” The man glanced at the woman sitting beside him, and she nodded encouragingly. “We’ve a problem of our own, here in Connell Cross. You see?—”
“A witch is stealing people,” someone I couldn’t see clearly shouted.
The older man grimaced. “Yes, well. That.”
“Stealing people how?” Kason pushed his mug aside, all of his attention on the older man.
“A spell, I would imagine. All we know is that anyone she wants, she takes, and thereafter, they’re devoted to her.”
Oh no. Love magic. I wanted to groan. I should have anticipated this, given that Rhianough was the goddess of love and intellect. It only made sense that she would want to curtail such abuse.
“How many?”
“Half a dozen.”
“No, that was last week,” the woman beside the old man said. “She’s up to ten now.”
“Ten?” I squawked. I couldn’t help it. Ten abductees? What was she?—
No, I didn’t want to wonder what she was doing with all of them. Nothing good.
“We can definitely investigate,” Kason assured the crowd.
Investigating was the easy part. How we were going to solve the problem was yet to be seen.