Chapter 17
Chapter
Seventeen
F resh snow stung my eyes as the village of Klod?sch came into view. Fragrant gray smoke issued from chimneys set into frosted rooftops, and the clang of metal on metal rang off the steep mountainside.
Klod?sch, Kaden had told me, was a Drathen settlement that had sprung up after King Alfrigg and his soldiers had forced the dark fae out of Athelby.
The village looked to be little more than a ramshackle outpost, with a seedy-looking inn, a blacksmith, a brothel, and a few wind-ravaged huts.
Even so, the town was a welcome sight after hours of navigating the rocky switchbacks.
We’d risen well before dawn, and yet it had still taken the entire day to descend the mountain.
As we drew closer, the scent of smoked meat mixed with the musk of animals, manure, and sawdust. Racks of split logs were crammed between the tumbledown houses, and fat hogs rooted in the frozen mud.
Outside one house, a black and white goat eyed us suspiciously from its perch on a barrel, and I felt a shiver of apprehension that it somehow sensed what Kaden was.
Before we’d reached the village, Kaden had removed the apokropos stone from its protective box to conceal his demon half and risked using a small bit of power to magic away his wings.
Out among the Drathen fae, there was a low chance of him being recognized, but those huge, leathery wings and the ominous power rolling off him would have alerted every fae in the vicinity that a demon was in their midst.
Despite our efforts to avoid attention, we attracted plenty of stares as we trudged down the muddy road that ran the length of the village.
A dark-haired fae with burns covering the right side of his face and a puckered knot of flesh where his eyes should’ve been stopped hammering the piece of metal he was working and gawked openly as we passed.
Across the street, a haggard-looking female with painted lips wearing a filthy gown was filling a bucket with water. She, too, stopped and watched us as her bucket overflowed.
Finally, we reached the inn, which was little more than a two-story shack with rooms added on here and there. The front door was painted a deep burgundy color, though the wood was peeling and scarred from what looked like the tips of blades.
A rough sign nailed to the boards bore the message, “No weapons. No spitting. No rabble-rousing.”
Reaching over my shoulder, Kaden braced a hand against the door and pushed it open. The din of voices hit me as I ducked inside, along with the stench of bodies, stale beer, roasting meat, and the faint underlying odor of vomit.
It was stiflingly hot and loud, thanks to my acute hunter hearing.
Fae dressed in tattered furs and leathers were slumped over a long bar and battered wooden tables lit by iron lanterns.
A fire roared in a huge stone hearth, where a male in a filthy tunic rotated the crisp carcasses of game on a spit.
The chatter subsided as Kaden cut through the crowd. Wary eyes the color of smoke and pine bark followed us to the bar, where a plump female with a scarf tied over her head seemed to be in charge.
It was impossible to guess the faerie’s age. Her face was unlined as most of the faes’ were, but she commanded the rowdy inn with an air of authority that made me think she’d been here for decades.
She hollered something to the male turning the spit as she filled two dented tankards with a dark-brown ale. Foamy liquid sloshed over the rims, but she didn’t bother reaching for a rag before slamming them down on the sticky bar top in front of a couple of inebriated patrons.
“No one ever accused you of having a soft touch,” one of the males groused as he unstuck his tankard from the counter.
“And no female ever accused you of being the cause of her fatigue come morning,” she retorted.
A smattering of chuckles rose from the group of males, and the female’s sharp gaze settled on Kaden before flicking to me. She seemed to sense immediately that I did not belong here, judging by the way her shoulders stiffened.
“Good evening,” said Kaden, pulling on a dashing smile. “Two tankards of your best ale, please. And two helpings of whatever he’s having.” He nodded at the male whom the barmaid had insulted, who’d nearly cleaned his plate.
The female looked Kaden up and down, as if trying to discern how much coin she should charge based on his appearance. “Eight coppers,” she barked .
I had no idea whether that was a steep price for a tavern meal and two drinks in Klod?sch, but Kaden didn’t comment as he reached into his jacket to extract a small pouch of coins.
I watched as she pulled two tankards of ale from the same barrel as she’d poured the last. Kaden smiled pleasantly as she slammed them down, spilling a good deal over the sides of the mugs.
“I wonder, m’lady, if you’ve seen a pair of newcomers at your fine establishment today,” he said.
“Aye,” she bit out, peering at him with a mixture of wariness and irritation. “One such annoying bastard is flapping his gums at me now.”
“I was actually asking about a fair-haired female and her companion — a tall male with copper hair and a most surly disposition.”
“If you’re lookin’ for a good time, the pleasure house is next door.”
Kaden’s eyes dazzled in a way that made me want to slap him. “I’m perfectly capable of having a good time all on my own,” he said with a wink. “We’re searching for two friends of ours. We were separated in an avalanche yesterday afternoon, and we haven’t seen them since.”
Something like sympathy flashed in the female’s eyes, but she quickly tucked it away. “If you was truly in an avalanche, you’d best stop askin’ after your friends and thank the gods that you’re still breathing.”
Dread squeezed my insides. If Adriel and Sorsha hadn’t made it off that mountain . . .
“Perhaps they just haven’t arrived yet,” Kaden said to no one in particular, raising his mug of ale. “We’ll wait.”
And so we waited.
The surly barmaid brought us a meal: roasted rack of lamb in a rich gravy, boiled potatoes, turnips, and carrots — all served with a stale crust of bread that was nevertheless effective at slopping up the last of the salty gravy.
We were both ravenous after our journey, and we cleaned our plates within minutes. We ordered another round of ale and took turns going out to ask the other townsfolk if they’d seen anyone matching Adriel and Sorsha’s descriptions. No one had.
Needing a distraction, I busied myself with practicing the levitating rune again.
In all the times I’d tried it, I’d never actually managed to levitate anything, so no one paid me any attention as I traced the rune in the condensation along the bar top, glaring at the copper coins Kaden had left scattered beside his plate and willing them to move.
The snow intensified as the night wore on, and the temperature plummeted to a miserable chill. Little by little, the streets of Klod?sch emptied, and the echoes of drunken laughter grew more boisterous.
Though neither of us voiced our concerns, I could see Kaden’s hopes fading with each passing hour. At one point, I got one of the copper coins to lift a hair’s breadth off the bar top before I lost my focus and it clinked back into place.
“We’ll need two rooms for the evening,” Kaden told the barmaid at last, sliding the coppers toward her and adding a few to the pile.
“Only got one room left,” she groused, scooping up all of his coin and tucking it in her brassiere just the same.
“Fine,” said Kaden, who seemed to have grown tired of the barmaid’s attitude now that the early morning hours were upon us.
He drained his mug and set it down, looking wearier than I’d ever seen him. “We’ll take the key then. ”
“Ain't no key,” the barmaid drawled, jerking her head toward a narrow staircase that led up to the second floor. “Last door on the end. Can’t miss it. There’s a bathing chamber right up the stairs. Look sharp.”
Kaden muttered something indiscernible and headed stiffly for the stairs. I followed a few paces behind him, my dread redoubling when I saw the pronounced slump to his shoulders.
He’d been so sure that Adriel and Sorsha would be here. I didn’t want to think what that meant.
My legs barked in protest as I climbed the stairs, reminding me of our punishing trek down the mountain. At this rate, I scarcely cared if I had to sleep out back with the animals. My body desperately needed rest.
At the top of the stairs was a dismal corridor, which rumbled with slurred voices and the occasional shriek of pleasure. Each door had a number burned into the wood, save for the narrow door at the end of the hall.
“Do you think she put us in a broom closet?” Kaden muttered as we reached the last chamber.
When the barmaid had told us she had only one room, I’d decided I’d sleep on the floor, as far away from Kaden as possible. But any plans I’d had were quickly dashed when he opened the door.
Though I was fairly certain he’d been joking about the female putting us in a broom closet, the chamber in question looked as if it had once been used for storage.
A single bed barely big enough for one was stuffed beneath the eaves, the roofline so low that Kaden couldn’t stand up straight.
The ceiling jutted down at a sharp angle on either side of the bed, leaving only enough space to lie down.
There was no fireplace and no space for one anyway — only a narrow chest squeezed so close to the bed that the drawers would only open a few inches. The stub of a candle rested in a dish beside a cracked clay basin and a matching clay pitcher for washing.
Kaden snorted.
“You think this is funny?” I snapped. I was so damned tired. I only needed a place to collapse for the evening, but there wasn’t even room for both of us to stand.
He chuckled again. “I think that barmaid thinks it’s funny. At least we won’t freeze to death.” His eyes smoldered. “We both know how good I am at keeping you warm.”