Chapter 28
?PAEONIA
The stench of smoke and burnt whiskey made Paeonia scrunch her nose. Her eyes remained wide as Rowan dragged her through the auction house, squeezing between bodies, loud noises and shouting wrapping her in a heavy blanket.
She mindlessly scanned her surroundings, letting Rowan direct her through the crowd, clutching his hand tightly.
They passed a stall stacked with books, tomes of every color, ink pots and quills, leather satchels with slots for strapping a bound leaflet.
A wooden sign hung on the railing, swinging from the chattering bodies that bumped into the structure.
It had different genres engraved, signaling the various stacks of books and what they were. One genre in particular caught her eye.
She tugged on Rowan’s hand. “Rowan. Can we stop and look around a bit?”
Rowan tugged at her hand so she was forced against his chest. “We are not here for you.”
“Yes,” she mumbled. “I know. But I just thought… That tent has books, and I wondered if maybe…?”
Rowan sucked in a deep breath, quickly taking in his surroundings, gauging where they were, before sighing and leading Paeonia over to the book dealer. She smiled as they got closer to the leatherbound books.
“Go on. Be quick about it.”
She couldn’t help but notice how he didn’t seem as perturbed as he tried to sound.
She wondered if he’d let her make a purchase if she managed to pick out one she liked enough to take home.
If he’d waste coins on something so trivial.
She slid into the stall, moving toward the stack that sat under the “Romance” sign.
Rowan made an odd sound in his chest when he saw where she headed, his figure looming behind her, not letting her out of his sight.
She didn’t care what Rowan thought. All she remembered was Sybil’s complaints about Rowan’s collection of tomes in the observatory. The least she could do was bring back a book for her to read.
Paeonia began to sift through the disarray of books, flipping through the pages. She picked up a forest-green covered book, the title written in gilded leaf. “A Fae for a Witchling.”
She opened to the first page, and Rowan spoke over the crest of her ear. “Any particular reason that one caught your eye?”
Her face went red hot, fumbling to put the book back down.
The next one she grabbed was titled “The Mated Bargain,” and Paeonia almost squealed, tossing it to the side.
Rowan chuckled, and she wanted to hide her face in her hands.
A slight coolness caressed her back as Rowan gave her distance to meander in peace.
She finally managed to find a pretty book dissimilar enough to her living arrangements to not spark her chest with embarrassment.
She turned to Rowan who lingered at the entrance of the stall, his eyes already on her. “Can I get this one?” she asked, holding it up for him to see. He nodded.
She bit her lip to suppress a grin. She moved toward him, trailing along the other sections of books. On a tiny shelf, a small sign caught her eye. She shifted closer, and her finger grazed the spines until she landed on one title she couldn’t resist.
She pulled it from the shelf and slid it beneath her book for Sybil. “Could I get two?” she asked quietly as she edged back.
He grumbled something before handing her a coin.
When they exited back into the hall, her new books now wrapped and tied with a little bow, tucked safely under her arm, she expectantly stuck out her hand. Rowan gave her a curious glance before intertwining their fingers and leading her back down through the auction house.
“What are we looking for?” Paeonia asked.
He tugged her in closer toward him. “It’s we now?”
She bit her lip. “I only meant… Why did you need to get in here—to the auction house?”
Rowan eyed the crowd. “I’ll show you.”
They entered a small alcove, bottles and trinkets set upon a wooden cart. Her lips parted as she admired the various liquids brewing, some casting over in a smog, a couple bubbling. Magic.
“Felix,” Rowan greeted.
The man he addressed peered up from his ledger, his glasses on the tip of his nose, his robes a sea-green. He smiled. “Rowan. It’s been ages.” Paeonia wondered how old Felix was in comparison to Rowan.
“I’ve come to inquire about a possession of yours.”
Felix set his glasses down on the open ledger, moving around the table to stand more closely to Rowan. “Ah.” He crossed his arms and leaned back. “Pray tell. What has gotten the beast to leave the confines of his home?”
Rowan released Paeonia’s hand, and Felix was quick to track the movement, giving Paeonia a curious once-over as if he only just noticed her presence.
“Bond’s End.”
Felix’s eyebrows knitted together. Paeonia thought he didn’t physically look much older than her or Barth. He peered at the ceiling as he thought. “Hm. Sold that years ago.”
“To whom?”
Felix shook his head, turning back to his obscenely large log book, beginning to flutter through the pages. “Why so curious about it? What could you possibly need with it?”
“I’ve made a bargain.”
Felix hummed in understanding. “Must’ve made an important one if it got you to agree to finding a relic you’ve not seen in a hundred years.”
Rowan grunted, leaning against one of the pillars. “You could say that.”
Felix tsked. “Always so secretive.”
“Can’t afford to lose any of my secrets to the likes of you.”
Felix burst out laughing. “I’ve missed you, old friend.”
“Perhaps you should come around more often.”
“And what would be the use of that?” Felix used his finger to hold his place, meeting Rowan’s gaze. “Not much left for me here.”
Rowan scratched at the scruff beginning to grow in along his chin. “Unfortunately, I find myself in the same predicament.”
Felix gave him a sympathetic nod before flipping through the pages again, his finger marking a spot and quickly skimming the inked letters. “You’ll break the curse,” he mumbled as he read.
Rowan remained silent.
Felix finally made an odd noise, taking his glasses off again. “You’re not going to want to hear this.”
Rowan inched closer.
“Sold it to someone of the Willow Court eighty-five years ago. It won’t be of this realm.”
“Fuck,” Rowan cursed lowly. He slammed his hand down on the table.
“That the only thing they wanted? Bond’s End?” Felix inquired.
Rowan nodded, running his hand through his hair. “Yes.”
“And you’re sure that’s what they meant? That they wanted this dagger?”
Rowan scoffed. “What else could he have meant?”
Felix lifted his hands in surrender. “I’ve no idea. I didn’t make the bargain. I’m just imploring you to consider your options. Just to be sure he wanted the dagger.”
“Yes, he said he wanted my end in a bond.” Rowan ruminated over the words, his sentence breaking off. He turned toward Paeonia, and she blanched, his eyes dark as he traced over her body. Rowan whispered something to Felix, and Paeonia shifted uncomfortably on the balls of her feet.
After another minute of Felix and Rowan’s hushed mumblings, he grabbed Paeonia’s hand and dragged her from the alcove. Paeonia looked back at Felix, who offered her a tiny wave.
“What happened? Are you not able to get your dagger?”
Rowan ignored her, dragging her through the crowd, several bodies bumping into her. She struggled to keep her hand in Rowan’s, but he never let her go, never let her hand slip away.
She finally tugged him enough that he stopped in a slightly less congested section.
“Rowan, tell me what is happening. You don’t have to always do everything”—she gestured her free hand around—“alone.”
He almost looked ready to fight her on that, but instead, he said, “I made a bargain with a seedy sorcerer. I thought what he asked for was this ancient dagger. One that I had possessed at one point in time. But now, I’m wondering if he meant something else entirely.”
She pursed her lips. “Do you know what else he could have meant?”
“I have an inkling. I’m just not sure I want to retrieve what it is he asks for.”
“What happens if you don’t give him what he asked for?”
His hand tightened on hers. “I lose all my remaining magic to the sorcerer.” When she didn’t respond, he continued.
“Grim magic requires a balance, as I told you. We gain our abilities from nature. The gardens have always been connected to the fae of the Alder Court. Now, it is the one thing keeping the garden fueled. Without it, the gardens will die. And thus, my fate is mirrored.”
His flippancy over something so terrible unnerved her. If he died, what would that mean for her—for her father?
After a few beats, she uncomfortably tried to make light of the situation. “Well, that was a silly deal you made.”
He raised an eyebrow as he curiously traced her features. “I suppose it was.”
When they left the building, the sun was setting, and the dark alleys echoed with madness. Paeonia gleaned a few Gloamcaps in the distance. They were in a wagon, locked in their cages, being carted off by whoever had bid high enough to claim them.
Paeonia stifled a cry.
Rowan stopped and glared at her. “What?” he asked impatiently, the horizon turning to dusk.
“It’s not fair.” Her words were clipped and laced in watery tears.
He sighed, shifting his weight. “Pae, those creatures attacked you—”
“But we don’t know if it was those specific ones,” she hissed.
Fire bloomed in her chest, and Rowan appraised her like seeing her for the first time.
“And what does that matter? They’re probably attacking humans because of how we treat them.
Keep them in cages, barter them off! It’s barbaric.
It’s”—she shook her head, tears sliding down her cheeks—“sick. We can’t just leave them.
Gods, why did you have to bring me here? ”
He went to open his mouth—
“I know why. But, I just wish I had never seen this.”
He took a step closer to her, and she startled enough to halt her tears, backing into the wall. “You’d rather live in ignorant bliss?”
She worried her bottom lip. “No. I just—”
“That’s not what you wish.” He tilted his head, lowering himself to slowly align with her line of sight. “Say what you really want.”
She stared up at him, her large green eyes somehow melting through his exterior. He clenched his fist. “I wish you’d stop it.”
His face softened in satisfaction, like he knew she had wanted to say that to begin with but was too stubborn. Too set on not needing Rowan any longer. She didn’t want him to know that she wanted things from him. Saw him as someone who could fix things that hurt her.
She spoke before he answered. “I’d make another bargain if I have to.”
His eyes danced between hers, her chin tilting to meet his gaze.
One of his hands that had been lingering by her waist finally made contact, trailing her side.
He skirted her neck, slipping his fingers into the loose tendrils of hair that fell from her chignon, admiring it as it pooled between them.
She never looked away, not letting him know he affected her when he got this close.
He looked briefly to her lips, the cold air numbing them along with her cheeks. Then he turned from her.
“Let’s go.”
She didn’t budge. “What? You’re not going to make a bargain with me?” Her mouth hung open in disbelief. “Isn’t that what you do?” She hastened her step to catch up to him. “Don’t you want to?”
He grunted. “I’ve no more use for you.”
A beat of silence. Only footsteps.
“Oh,” she muttered.
His jaw tensed. He grabbed her hand even though she fought it, not letting her go.
“That’s not what I meant,” he grumbled.
She pursed her lips, looking the other way as they approached the stablemaster. “And that’s not an apology.”
He hummed in his throat. “I have no more bargains to be made with you. That is true. But,” he paused. Paeonia glanced up at him. He stopped walking and sighed. “Would that make you happy? If I freed those Gloamcaps?”
She nodded hesitantly, afraid she was walking into one of his traps. “Do you care if I’m happy?” she asked timidly. She wasn’t sure why she felt bold enough to ask such a question.
He studied her, and her forehead began to perspire, his lips parting. She clenched the wrapped books tucked under her arm.
“Wait here.” He slid a dagger off his hip and placed it in her hand. “I will be right back.”
Paeonia stood silently, soundlessly watching him take off down the alley. It wasn’t long before she heard loud noises, fighting, echoing. She gripped the handle of the dagger tighter, her eyes flashing as she kept watch, praying no one approached her.
There were so few people in this section of Ephemeral, yet her heart raced uncontrollably.
She whipped around when she thought she heard voices, whispers in the evening air.
She began to regret asking this of Rowan, terrified of what might await her in the dark shadows of the city, remembering the slimy creatures she faced in the Night Market.
She decided she didn’t like being left alone, even if she sometimes craved her own space.
No more than a few minutes later, Rowan appeared, and she let out a large sigh. “Thank the gods,” she grumbled.
When he got close enough, she saw the blood on his cloak. The way his hair had been tussled.
“What did you—?”
“They’re free,” he grumbled before he sized her up. “What’s wrong?”
She shook her head. “Please don’t leave me alone again.”
He took the dagger back, his hand soft as it grazed hers. He nodded before interlacing their fingers like that small intimacy was normal between them.
They traveled the rest of the way in comfortable silence.