Chapter 28 All Things Decadent and Luscious
All Things Decadent and Luscious
Octavian pulled me closer to him, positioning me partway behind him. With his other hand, he eased his sword out of its sheath.
The alley was empty. I wasn’t sure what sort of danger he expected to come leaping out at us, but after the past couple of days in Therador, I braced myself for just about anything.
But no creatures lumbered out of the shadows, and no assassins emerged to slit our throats. Octavian backed me slowly toward the busy street, keeping his sword raised and himself between me and the rest of the alley.
Suddenly he stopped, looking down at something near the toe of his boot.
I followed his gaze. There, in the dirt that lay thick on the cobblestones, someone had drawn a symbol—three interlocking triangles.
Around the symbol was a series of short slashes and lines at different angles, like the same someone had drunkenly tried to make tally marks in the dirt with their finger.
“Change of plan,” Octavian said. “We’ll meet up with them later at the Hill.”
His shoulders had relaxed somewhat, but he kept his sword out and at the ready until we reached the mouth of the alley, and only then did he slide it back into its place on his belt beneath his cloak. Then he slipped his arm through mine once again and guided me down the busy street.
“What’s going on?” I glanced back over my shoulder toward the entrance to the alley, but it was already out of sight, blocked by the curve in the street and the crowds of people.
“They saw something, and they’re looking into it,” he said.
“For now, I’m to get you somewhere secure, just in case.
” He must have noticed the worry on my face, because he added, “I don’t think there’s an immediate risk, but my brothers and I would rather be cautious.
Too much has changed since we were last here, and even back then there were many who wanted us dead. ”
“Why?” It was the question that had been simmering inside me for a long time. I kept my voice low when I continued, “Why do so many want you dead? Why did Laitha and the Circle of the Hidden Stars curse you in the first place?”
“They were worried that my brothers and I had become too powerful.”
“Wait, you guys are too powerful for the most powerful sorcerers in Therador?”
“Not in essence,” he said, then hesitated. “I’ll explain more later. This is not a conversation we should be having here.”
Oh, right. Giant crowd around us. Instead of trying to hold a conversation, I shifted my attention to the town around us as Octavian led me down the street.
The buildings were even brighter up close, painted in shades of sky blue and canary yellow and spring green, with here and there something orange or pink or even violet.
The handful of buildings that were simply plain stone or timber stood out like sore thumbs, and even they had brightly colored shutters and doors, and many had window boxes bursting with bright herbs and flowers.
There were also ribbons and banners everywhere—hanging from doors, dangling from the lantern poles, flapping in the mild breeze.
Garlands of flowers were strung across doorways and archways, filling the air with sweet fragrance.
The crowd was just as colorful. While some people wore shades of brown like Octavian and me, others were dressed in bright, patterned clothing—cerulean dresses with embroidery along the neckline, or russet-colored tunics with stripes of green along the hem, or shawls woven from threads of a dozen colors.
There were lavender scarves and straw hats tied with red ribbons, mustard-colored cloaks and fur-lined patchwork vests.
Some people had flowers in their hair as well, braided right into the strands or resting in a crown above their brow.
The people themselves were as varied as their clothes, their skin and hair and eyes in every shade I’d ever seen—plus a few I hadn’t.
We walked by a couple of men with milky-pale skin that took on a greenish tint when they passed beneath the shadows of a building, and later I spotted a woman with red-orange eyes peeking out from beneath her hood.
I was so busy gawking at everything around us—and so used to people falling out of our way as Octavian led us through the crowd—that it took me by complete surprise when we rounded a corner and I slammed right into someone.
“Ooof!” The other person fell backwards from the force of our collision, collapsing into a pile on the street in front of us.
“I’m sorry,” I said quickly, holding out my hand. “I wasn’t looking.”
“It’s all right.” The person’s hood fell back, revealing a girl perhaps a couple years younger than me. She had brown skin, dark curls, and big, friendly eyes.
But though she took my offered hand, those big eyes were not focused on me. Instead, they were locked on Octavian. And once she was back on her feet, she ignored me completely, dropping my hand and grabbing Octavian by the cloak.
“I knew it was you,” she said.
Octavian had stiffened, and I could tell by his stance that he had his hand on his sword hilt beneath his cloak, ready to strike the moment it became necessary.
“You have me mistaken for someone else,” he said in his low rumble. “I am not from this place.”
“Of course you aren’t.” The young woman’s tone was light, and her eyes still shone with open, friendly wonder. “You’re from Riversend, on the far side of the Snowcrowns.”
“I’m afraid we must be going.” Octavian’s hand was still on his sword, and with his other, he took my arm once more. The crowd was still parting around his big form, but it was clear he didn’t like being out in the open.
“Wait!” The girl reached up, grabbing either side of his hood. “I know people who can help you.”
“Again, I think you have me mistaken for someone else.”
“No, I don’t think I have.” Her voice was more serious now, but she was still practically glowing with excitement. “You’re the Mighty Oak.”
I felt Octavian’s arm tense. “I don’t know who that—”
“Of course you know.” The young woman smiled, and she leaned closer, adding in a hushed voice, “There have been whispers about your return.”
Octavian shook his head, but his eyes flicked to either side as if making sure no one else overheard. “Rumors and legend—”
“Are sometimes true.” She released him, propping her hands on her hips and looking him up and down. “And there are those who wish to help you.”
Octavian was still as rigid as a rake, and I half expected him to whip out his sword even now, or at least barrel over her and escape through the crowd. But when I looked up into his face, there was more confusion than concern in his expression.
“I know you don’t have any reason to trust me,” the girl said. “But I can take you to someone I know you will trust. Someone you used to know quite well.”
“Who?” Octavian demanded in his deep avalanche of a voice.
Her smile widened, and she leaned closer again. “Talon.”
The shift in Octavian was immediate. “Talon is here?”
“Well, not here,” the young woman said, indicating their immediate surroundings. “But he’s close. I can take you there.”
Octavian looked down at me. I could see his hesitation, but I wasn’t sure whether it was on my behalf or because everything about this encounter felt entirely too coincidental. Clearly, though, that name—Talon—meant something to him.
“I pose no threat to you,” the girl pointed out to Octavian. “You could crush me like a bug if you wanted to.”
“Only a fool would discount someone because of their size,” he replied.
Her grin practically reached her ears, which boasted three studs on one side and four on the other, each with a different colored stone.
“You’re funny,” she said. “And smart. I knew you would be.” She cocked her head thoughtfully, still gazing up at him with nothing short of admiration.
“What will it take for you to trust me? Or to believe that I’m no match for you?
I could bring Talon to you, of course, but there’s nowhere in town as secure as his hideaway. ”
Octavian’s face was a mask, perfectly unreadable as he considered the situation.
I had a sneaking suspicion that, had I not been with him, he would have absolutely taken the risk of accepting the girl’s offer without a second thought.
His reaction to the name Talon—the hope and joy that had flashed briefly in his eyes—was all the evidence I needed.
I squeezed his arm, drawing his attention back down to me. And I offered him my most reassuring smile as I gave a small nod.
I trust you, I tried to convey with my eyes.
And apparently that was all the push he needed, because his shoulders relaxed the tiniest bit more as he turned back to the girl.
“Very well,” he said. “Take us to him.”
The girl grinned, clasping her fingers together in barely restrained glee. “Wonderful. This way.” She beckoned for us to follow her.
And we did, falling in behind her as she skillfully wove her way through the crowded market.
People didn’t fall out of her way like they did for Octavian, but she navigated the streets like a pro, swerving and threading a path for herself through the throng—which made me wonder how “accidental” our collision had been.
I leaned close to Octavian as we walked after her through the crowds of people.
“Who’s Talon?” I whispered.
“An old friend.” He kept his voice low so the young woman wouldn’t overhear. “And hopefully a current friend, too.”
“Do you think we can trust this girl?”
“I don’t trust anyone,” he replied. “But if Talon is alive, and he’s here, then it’s worth the risk.” His azure eyes gazed down at me, and he squeezed my arm. “I’ll keep you safe, I promise.”
“I know.”
He responded with a smile that warmed me from the inside out, and something fluttered in my chest, making it temporarily hard to breathe. This man had a way of completely disarming me with a single look, of making me want to offer up everything—my life, my body, my heart—to his protection.
Even after he told you his heart belonged to someone else?
a little voice in my head reminded me. Be careful, Goldie.
That’s how you end up getting your soul crushed.
There was also the added complication of Radven, and of the fact that there were things trying to kill me everywhere I turned, and I refused to be the sort of girl who got herself murdered because she was too distracted by hard muscles and dreamy eyes.
I didn’t have much time to linger on that thought, though, because suddenly the street we were on opened up into a huge square—and what I assumed was one of Ring-Around-the-Hill’s four markets.
This place made the rest of the town look subdued.
Everywhere I looked there was an explosion of colors and sounds and smells.
Vividly hued stalls were spread in every direction, extending from physical storefronts and spilling down every street and alleyway within view.
They were selling everything from brightly dyed cloth to dried spices to crates of giant yellow squash.
I spotted one man with a booth full of little wooden figurines carved to look like animals, and the woman next to him had fresh sausages hung up in long chains.
A girl who looked no older than ten was luring people to her table covered in beaded necklaces, while the couple opposite her had attracted a small crowd to their baskets of what appeared to be knobby blue potatoes.
It was loud—music came from at least six different directions, drifting over the shouts of vendors hawking their wares—but it was the aromas that I found the most distracting. Someone was smoking meat somewhere close, and someone else was selling something that smelled sweet and cinnamony.
Why can’t more of our adventures include food? I wondered glumly, wishing I’d eaten more of last night’s lamb supper. Am I the only one around here who gets hangry if she’s not fed on a regular schedule?
“I’d forgotten what day it was,” Octavian said beside me.
“Hm?” I looked up.
“The Hill Festival begins tonight,” he said. “It’s Ring-Around-the-Hill’s biggest event of the year. We’ll be lucky if we find an available room for the night.”
The girl had sharper ears than I realized, because she turned back toward us. “You can stay with us, don’t worry.”
It was unclear from Octavian’s expression whether or not he was relieved by that news. Meanwhile, I was starting to study the town around us with renewed interest.
“You mean this place isn’t normally this…crazy?” I asked.
“Ring-Around-the-Hill is always bustling,” Octavian said. “I assumed it had just become more so since—” He cut himself off before he could let anything slip within earshot of the girl. “Since the last time I was here.”
Our guide had dropped back beside us, in part because of the press of people around us and in part because she obviously wanted to join the conversation.
“Wait, have you never been to a Hill Festival before?” she asked, addressing me for the first time since she'd run into me.
“No.” Admitting that felt safe enough.
“Oh, you’re going to love it!” she said. “There’s feasting and dancing all night long. And the pageant is supposed to be unforgettable this year.”
I had to admit, her enthusiasm was catching—not that I really needed a push to get excited about what was essentially a real-life Ren Faire.
After two days of running from things trying to kill me, the thought of experiencing this side of Therador—all things delightful, decadent, and luscious—sounded too tempting to resist.
“Can we go?” I asked Octavian. “Just for a little while?”
Octavian hesitated, and I knew what he was thinking—that maybe frolicking about a festival when there were powerful people who wanted our blood wasn’t the smartest idea in the world—but after a moment, one corner of his mouth tilted up.
“I hope so,” he replied, and his eyes flashed with the same warm, intoxicating charm I’d seen on the first night we’d met, when he’d held me close and twirled me around the dance floor and invited me to indulge in the small pleasures of life.
It was clear that he was no more immune to the attraction of the Hill Festival than I was.
That flutter in my chest intensified, spreading all the way down into the pit of my belly.
Be careful, I reminded myself again. Don’t become so enchanted by the rose that you forget about the thorns.
But I could already feel the vines entangling me, twining around my heart. And I knew, deep in my gut, that no matter how many warnings I gave myself about these brothers, I was already caught.