18. Leoric
Chapter 18
Leoric
A ll down the benches and tables outside the Ugly Mug, townsfolk and Gwerenese alike tucked into a pre-dawn breakfast almost singlehandedly prepared by a fiery, gore-spattered Jeromah. The fight had filled her blood with new energy, the satisfaction of slaying her own quota of ghouls a form of revenge for her fallen husband.
We were none the worse for wear, not a single casualty among the living. All souls were safe. Had the coin’s influence reached so far up, sparing the people of Barrowdeep from grievous injury or the horrific embrace of the ghouling plague? That little trinket truly was as powerful as Orphium always claimed it was.
For breakfast, an incredible spread of the Ugly Mug’s finest: eggs cooked all ways, rashers of crispy bacon, slabs of crusty bread, sausages and cured meats of a quality that rivaled anything that might be found in the larders of the gluttonous lords of the Emerald Reaches. Jeromah had spared no expense .
Greasy, fatty, truly horrible for the arteries and heart. And yet this delicious meal was a reminder that I had arteries at all, and veins, and blood. Most of all, I had the gift of life. The living had triumphed.
The ghouls of Barrowdeep were no more, thanks in no small part to a wily fae trickster who denied the existence of his own golden heart. If we played our cards right, blocked all the exits from the catacombs and the tunnels that snaked beneath the surface of the town, we might even rid ourselves of the ghouling plague forever.
Riggs had discovered a tunnel that the ghouls used to burrow into town, opening up in a clump of bushes close to the plaza. That was how they’d abducted Orphium, popping up through their makeshift trapdoor and escaping before anyone could find them.
Who knew how many more of these exits had been dug around Barrowdeep? At least now we had time to discover and seal them off before more ghouls thought to infest our town. But seeing as how an entire colony of them had been defeated within the blink of an eye, chances were good that no ghoul, mother or otherwise, would even dare to set their sights here for a very long time.
The hero of Barrowdeep himself was nowhere to be found. He’d partaken of the breakfast feast — had even coined the term “breakfeast” before he’d disappeared amid a chorus of groans and forced laughter. But I had a good idea of where to find him. I slipped away from the benches myself, leaving Father Whiston and Redginald to boast away and compare notes on which of the two had attained a higher ghoulish kill count .
In truth, where else could he have gone? Light spilled out of the back of his caravan, a slant of gold on the ground. I rapped my knuckles on the threshold and let myself in. It nearly felt intrusive to follow him there, knowing he had come to finish the job, even though I knew he would welcome the company.
Orphium was saying his goodbyes. He’d never looked so serious, so sad, and somehow so beautiful, his head leaned against the cabin’s little window, his hair tinted in curious colors by the crawling pink and purple of a dawning sky.
I’d never taken a proper look at this collection, at the fabled Orphium’s Emporium in all its ill-gotten glory. All these rows and shelves of bottled thoughts and dreams, jars of keepsakes and mementos. Every last one had been purloined unjustly from the hands and minds of witless humans.
So why did I feel so sorry for Orphium?
“All of them, Leoric?” He heaved a little sigh. “Surely not all of them.”
I gave him a tight smile. “All of them. Every last one. Think of all the Pennifers and Whistons and Jeromahs out there. Don’t they deserve to get their memories back? Shouldn’t their dreams have a chance to come home?”
Orphium gestured at the shelves, at the cabin, his hand falling limply. In a small, quiet voice, he said: “But this is all I have.”
I grasped him by the shoulder firmly, but kept my demeanor gentle. “And none of it belongs to you,” I told him.
He crossed his arms, considering the bottles, then slowly shook his head. “It’s all the bloody Wyrding Queen’s fault. One of these days, I’ll do to her what I did to the mother of ghouls.”
I kneaded the muscles in his shoulders. “And I’ll be right by your side, prepared to chop her head off.”
He let out a bitter chuckle, but I could sense that he’d made a decision. I followed Orphium out of the cabin, watched as he walked up to Wagon’s side. He took a deep breath, plastering on a dazzling grin.
“Step right up,” the line of his body seemed to say, except that for once, he didn’t call attention to himself. This one time, Orphium didn’t want his life to become a spectacle. He rapped his knuckles against the side of his caravan.
“Wagon,” he whispered. “Are you ready for this one?”
The caravan wobbled on its wheels, a wordless affirmative response. Orphium spoke the words just loud enough for the two of us to hear.
“And now, for my final trick.”
He snapped his fingers. Every bottle inside the cabin unstoppered itself, a chorus of pops as wax and cork magically separated from dozens upon dozens of glass mouths. Golden wisps of dreams and memories drifted out of the caravan, some curled like tendrils of mist, others taking the shape of Orphium’s favorite things.
Glowing birds, blossoms, bubbles, butterflies fluttered in all different directions, carried by an imperceptible wind. A dramatic display of magic, little fragments of human minds from all across Aidun.
And following in their wake came a procession of keepsakes, old trinkets and things, humble treasures finding their way home. Wagon rocked gently back and forth, as if helping to ease their passage.
People trickled out of their homes around the plaza, across Barrowdeep, watching in rapt awe. This was so different from the crowds that gathered around the caravan on its first day in town, those who cheered and applauded for Orphium’s Emporium.
“And now,” Orphium said, “I truly have nothing left.”
I reached for his hand, gripping it tightly in mine. “You can always make more.”
He chuckled. “Make more butterflies or memories?”
“Both,” I said. “Either. And it’s not like you have nothing. Cheer up. You have me, don’t you?”
Orphium groaned, his shoulders rounding as the breath left his body. “This had better be worth my while, human. You’d better be worth all this.”
I clasped him by the back of the neck, smiling as he puddled into my touch, his muscles relaxing as if on reflex.
“Don’t be so somber,” I said. “I’ll make it worth your while. We can start right now. Let’s make some memories of our own. Do you remember that time I kissed you right outside your wagon?”
Orphium glowered, his neck going tense. “No. I don’t remember that at all. What are you going on about? Listen, Stonesguard, that fall in the crypts might have knocked some things loose in your head, and I for one have had my fill of nonsense for — ”
I kissed him, deep and hard. I pulled him against me, savoring the faint whimper of surprise in his throat, the sweet softness of his lips. His hands reached for my shoulders, finding their way to the back of my neck, linking there. I smiled. Orphium swooned.
And then I pulled away. He sprang immediately back to attention, an actor always at the ready, a performer prepared. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and cleared his throat. He tugged on his collar and smoothed down the creases in his shirt, his eyes flitting left and right.
“Extremely inappropriate behavior to be flaunting to the locals, young Lord Stonesguard.”
“And now you have something new to remember.” I grasped him by the waist, pulling him close once more, leveling him with my gaze. “And how many times have I told you not to call me that?”
Orphium rolled his eyes. “I’m not sure how to tell you this, but these people aren’t as dim as you think they are.”
I bristled. “I never said they were.”
“What I’m actually too polite to say is that you’re not as clever as you think you are. Anyone who peers hard enough through your window will see the crest on your so-called mirror. Common folk simply do not speak nor carry themselves the way that you do.”
I broadened my shoulders, bristling again. Then I slouched, my head rolling slightly forward. “Like this? No. Perhaps more like this.”
Orphium rolled his eyes in the other direction. “Once a lordling, always a lordling. Whiston knows a bit about your upbringing, I’m sure of it. Jeromah, too. She’s hosted all sorts of people at her tavern. And Pennifer, well, she’s sharper than she lets on. Very clever of her. Everyone lets their guard down around her, believing she isn’t bright just because she’s so pretty.”
I beamed. “Well, now, look at you, being so familiar with Barrowdeep. You see what’s happened here, don’t you? These people are your friends now.”
“Quiet,” he hissed, like he didn’t want anyone to know. “I’ve done these people enough harm. It’s up to them to decide whether they’ll allow me to stay.”
Why keep it a secret, really, how much he liked them? Why pretend that he didn’t want to be part of our community, our bizarre little Barrowdeep family?
“I’m sure they can be convinced,” I said, holding back my happiness. He was staying. Orphium was really staying! “The apologies can come later — that is, if they even remember the business with you and your fake coins.”
And if they did remember, if the coins vanished as they were meant to, then Orphium could make amends the old fashioned way. Go around helping the locals with the chores, milk their cows, wash their wagons. And I would gladly help him help them myself.
He threw his head back, letting it loll on his shoulders as he let out a soft sigh. “The irony of it, eh? All my coins vanishing when they’d served their purpose, and the coin of legend doing the exact same thing. If only it had stayed on. It might have enjoyed being kept warm in my pocket.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “And what purpose did this legendary coin of yours serve before disappearing, exactly?” I had a hunch that I knew, but I wanted to hear it from his lovely mouth.
He smacked me in my chest. “Don’t make me say it. What do you think it did? It saved our lives. Destroyed all the ghouls. It brought us together. I don’t know. Shut up, you great big lump.”
“You think that’s an insult,” I told him, laughing when he squirmed as I pulled him close. “But I happen to be very proud of my great big lump.”
A strange sense of belated triumph washed over me. Of all the people of Barrowdeep, I alone had resisted his fae wiles. He’d never wrested me into playing one of his silly games, and I in turn had never wagered any of my keepsakes.
And as his fingers entwined with mine, as he leaned in for a warm and quiet kiss, I accepted the truth of it. He’d been playing a grand game with me all along, and he’d won something from me in the end. I never thought I’d be so happy to lose a wager.
Orphium of the Dawning Court never stole any of my keepsakes or memories, but he’d certainly stolen my heart.
Coin
What a trip that was, wreaking havoc and granting wishes in equal measure. Flipping Orphium and Leoric from enemies to lovers truly was a delight, particularly when it happened from being forced to share a single bed.
I want more of that. There must be more! This journey can’t be over. But what’s this on the horizon? What a curious pair. Teremie, a fae for pay professional performer, and Kade, a wolf shifter who also happens to be Hollywood royalty. Clashing tempers and egos, alternate dimensions, illicit transactions… everything I love and more.
Especially the illicit transactions. Time to go Fae for Pay . See you there!
And so the coin of legend continues on its chaotic journey. Thank you for reading my very first book in the world of Aidun!