Chapter 5
Noth
Imissed Gertrude. She was much simpler to deal with and might have stopped last night’s terrors that my Nightmare generously replayed over and over.
I pretended they didn’t wake me in a cold sweat, but it was tougher when I had a deadly companion watching my every move.
Lucky me, Maggie slept through my twitching and my too-tight grip on her.
The fact she hadn’t killed me in my sleep meant I had to watch her do a dizzying morning routine that put her ankles around her ears.
I doubt my legs would do that. But when she started the fighting bits of her workout, I had to smother my laugh in my silk pillow.
Yaya’s instructions, corrections and cane strikes ran through my head.
When she finished, I closed my eyes again and arranged myself in a particularly tempting sprawl. Too bad all I got was a boot toe in my side.
“Get up, Your Highness. Since the thicket seems to love you. You get to tell it we’ve given it all we can.”
I peeked out of the bower, watching Maggie’s eyes dilate as the blanket slipped down my front.
As mad as she acted last night, she looked resigned to needing my help this morning.
The thicket showed off its new growth–the bower verdant.
It should let us go. Breathing deeply, I took in the scent of crushed grass and her poppy.
Best get to it. The lush landscape made it a bright start to the day which had me dressing, packing the salamander and tossing Maggie on it sideways.
She pushed up. “I’m not a sack of grain. I can ride like a normal person.”
With a step into the stirrup, I mounted up behind her, pressing her down into my lap. “The worst your busy hands can do down there is shine my boots. When you stop acting like a little killer, you can ride like a normal person.”
I balanced her with one hand between her shoulder blades and one on her ass. The hand on her cheeks didn’t thrill her if her death stare was any indication, but she was soon too busy trying to stay on the salamander and off its slime to complain.
A kick and the salamander took off. I didn’t miss the way the branches combed through my hair as we left, but a saucy wink to the humming forest and the thicket obliged our exit, opening up right onto the road.
The previous day churned in my mind. I didn’t exactly mean for things to go that far with Maggie. Her determination and unreasonable assurance of her own skill were a siren song. Should I have kept more of my clothes on and still shown her how her magic worked? Where would the fun be in that?
It ate up the time I was supposed to be winning the Calix.
Godd objects didn’t grow on trees. Elven Godd objects even rarer.
When all the Godds died, the objects they left behind became invaluable.
Some of the Elden races, like mine, just kept them in a closet somewhere out of habit from when they used to worship those Godds.
Some of the Godd objects proved practically useless.
Who wanted a vessel that poured out an endless amount of acid?
Or an amulet that made pigs sleep? Some had more obvious uses, like the Calix, which bestowed prosperity, fertility, and magical ability.
Those were King-makers. So much power that all of the Harrowland’s ‘might makes right’ hierarchy would bow to it and the wielder.
I had more magic than most Elves, with my mixed heritage, but even I couldn’t bestow fertility on my people.
I understood why they would follow anyone who might even potentially mend that. Beyond the way to reclaim my rightful place, I owed it to my territory to at least attempt to restore their children to them. Nothing in my first reign had worked.
A sign for Portsgrave Harbor soon appeared.
The thicket put us half a day ahead if the mile marker was any indication.
The briny smell of salt water accompanied small sunray puffins that scattered as we approached.
A few weathered, hearty buildings squatted in the wind coming off of the harbor but a majority of the village was tucked just beyond the cliff edge, strung out along the curve of the meeting of the land and sea.
At the bend in the road, the town’s only inn huddled against the gorse, salt and gusts.
Ward prepared me to the best of his ability in his usual book nerd fashion.
I had at least glanced at his scrolls. While the area used to be home to a bustling harbor, the Sirens slowly filled in the bay until large ships had to avoid the city, which eventually shrank to a town, then a village.
No wonder no one ever found the true Calix.
This place wasn't full of ghosts; it was deceased.
For all that, the inn we stopped before had fresh paint and a clean-swept courtyard.
I sat on the salamander, tapping between Maggie's shoulder blades with impatience.
Was she dead? She hadn't made a sound since the initial squawk of protest.
“Is anyone coming for my mount?” I asked her. I needed to hear her voice. Honestly, I expected more yelling at this point.
“Pumpkin?” I propped her upright and she slumped over.
“Pumpkin!?” My Nightmare invaded my voice but the low hum of my usual amount of anxiety ratcheted up.
Her lips parted and I pushed away all thoughts of crushing them with mine. Was she breathing? The slow blink surfaced her from a trance. I gripped her a bit tighter than I should have, ready to yell at her.
Maggie’s gaze focused sharply and a swift crack of her hand against my face followed. My eyes watered with the force.
“Don’t ever do that again. You’re lucky I’ve been meditating for a decade and I know how to fold outside my body.”
I went to throttle her for scaring me but she moved like water, slipping off the saddle and onto the ground.
“And nobody is coming for your mount, Your Highness. I’m using the outhouse and I’ll meet you inside.”
She wouldn’t ride like that again because Maggie was going home.
That’s what she was doing. I thought when I dragged her to this seaside enchantment, I would find a mount for her and a young man with nothing else to do but escort her home.
Safer than her going it alone. Strike that.
A young woman sellsword with nothing else to do.
I shook my head. Knowing Maggie, that wouldn’t stop her either.
That empty well of power inside her proved insatiable.
I sighed as I dismounted, unsaddled and left the salamander in the fountain bubbling before the inn. If anything, he would purify the water here. Room first and then I would deal with my penance.
I stepped into the whitewashed, cheery interior. Everything gleamed with spotless fervor, from the bottles behind the small bar to the thistle-scented floors.
“Hello?” I called out into the empty space.
Banging came from the back and something crashed to the floor before a dumpling of a man jutted out into the front rooms.
“My goodness, a patron!” The glimmer in the man’s eye was only matched by the obvious polish he put on the near mirror-shined bar top.
“Your Highness,” he said.
The funny little man even managed a bow. At least he automatically knew when he was in the presence of royalty. I hadn’t gotten much of that lately and it straightened my spine a bit.
“You may rise,” I said in my most gracious tone.
“How can I be of service, Your Highness?”
I resisted the impulse to flick my hair over my shoulder and preen a bit. “I am in need of a room.”
“You would like to stay here? At my inn?”
It’s not like there was anywhere else to be in this Goddsforsaken village. Maggie chose that moment to walk in.
I kept my eye on the innkeeper. “One room, my good sir. With one bed.”
Maggie folded her arms over her chest. “I’m not sleeping with you.”
Only my iron will kept me from looking at the cleavage she displayed. I spilled a bunch of gold coins onto the bar top. “You’re not sleeping in this territory, Pumpkin.” I pushed a pile of coins to the man. His eyes had grown to saucers behind his half-glasses. Maggie gasped.
“What are you doing?” She came between me and the innkeeper, clawing back the pile of gold. “Did you hit your head?”
The innkeeper’s whole body began to shake.
“What do you mean?” I asked, pushing the pile of coins back to the man. He tentatively reached for them.
“At least ask how much the room is.” Maggie pocketed coins faster than I pushed them back across the counter.
“Why? I don't haggle like a fishwife. I will negotiate the price of an elven bushel of luma grass no lower than 535 talons, but for this? It’s just gold.”
She looked hard at me.
“Okay. I don't pay for things like this ever. But surely what I put on the counter was enough? Right…”
“It’s Arthur, Your Highness.” Again, a beautiful little bow.
I smiled at my new friend.
“Your Highness?” She eyed me like I forced poor Arthur to call me that.
I shrugged like her judgment didn't bother me.
“This is enough to buy the whole inn and probably the town if you wanted.” She put a few talons on the bar top and the innkeeper snatched them up.
“That sounds like too much trouble.” I sighed heavily. “Okay. Your assistance is duly noted. You are dismissed. I’ll find you transport once I change upstairs.”
“Dismissed!” she cried in outrage.
“No, that's not what I meant. Don't be difficult.”
“Rat Face, I was born to be difficult.”
Yes, yes she was and, usually, I loved it. Today, I needed her safely tucked in the Keep. The nickname didn’t thrill me either, but she flounced up the stairs to a room before we argued further.
“Any of the rooms are open,” Arthur called up to us.
I bet they were.
In the privacy of the one I chose, I took a moment to fortify myself.
Brush out my hair, wash, change into something comfortable and not too grabbable.
I heard Maggie banging around in the next room like she was really going to stay the night.
Heavy was the head that wore the crown. Perhaps we could pick this up when I had my throne back.
As refreshed as a change of clothes might make me, I stepped back out onto the landing and stood before her door.
“Time to go, Pumpkin.”
No response. Or the deafening silence was some type of response.
I tried the door. It wiggled but she must have barred it from the inside.
I shook my head. She still didn’t understand who she was dealing with.
I slipped into shadow and through the door, reveling in her yelp of surprise when I stepped back out of the dark and kicked the chair away from the door.
“What the-”
“No time for flattery. I need to get searching. So you need to go.”
It wasn't easy to corral Maggie, but I straightened to my full height, lifting my chin and snaking my hand around her upper arm. Her pack, her person, left the room in my grip.
“I won’t leave until you’re dead.”
“You will.” I shook her.
“You won’t escape me.”
In that she was right. She was already a permanent fixture in my dreams.
“I’ll live somehow.”
“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”
Arthur wisely remained silent as I carted Maggie out the door and called a Galather Raven from the Dream Realm.
It was an egregious use of magic. I would be hurting tomorrow, but I found I didn’t trust her in anyone’s company.
I plunked her on the raven’s back and it accepted her well enough for a cart-sized nightmare creature.
A few shadows strapped her to it and the almost-bird took her pack in its beak.
“Home.” I ordered it.
“I will not stay in the Keep.”
“Maybe you can take all that energy and repair things with your sister.”
Maggie blanched to a ghostly white. It was a low blow, but I needed distance to let her go. I might have dabbled with her, strengthened her so she could fend for herself, but taking her further on this journey was irresponsible.
She screeched anyway as the raven took to the sky. It was for the best. I wanted her too much after our little dalliance in the wood. I stretched, popping my back, willing my anxiety down to a manageable level. She would be safe, if unhappy. Ward would ensure she stayed put.
That was about as kind as my shadowed heart could be, even as it cracked, just a little.