Chapter 6
Six
Bex
Exhausted, we head straight to bed after supper.
The four-post bed is quite spacious, and its linens are incredibly soft, the finest I’ve ever experienced.
What I wasn’t expecting was how hot it gets up here on the third floor of the inn.
Not needing the heavy quilt, Nina folded it up and laid it across the end of the bed before we settled for the night.
My sister’s a heavy sleeper…once she’s out.
Me, once I’m asleep, I’m usually out for the night, but getting to sleep doesn’t always come easy.
Like last night, while we slept out under the stars.
I swear I was up for most of the night, worried about some wild dog or bandit sneaking up on us and killing us where we lay.
Here, though, I think I can’t sleep because the weight of what to do is keeping my brain up and working. Stay…go…either way, it seems as if this skin condition isn’t going anywhere.
After tossing and turning for what seems like hours, I toss off the sheet and slip out into the hallway. A little fresh air, and I bet I’ll feel better and fall right asleep.
Reaching the second level, I pause and stare at 2B.
The door’s cracked open enough to see inside the room.
I move closer and slowly push open the door.
I’m not usually this intrusive, but there’s something about this place that needs solving, and I aim to figure it out before I decide about staying or going.
The room’s much smaller than ours with only a double bed and a dresser.
On top of the dresser are a ceramic basin and a matching pitcher.
In the middle of the bed, Garrett lies on his stomach.
His arms reach up, tucking beneath his pillow.
The top sheet has slipped down, resting just above his waist. He’s shirtless, which doesn’t surprise me since it’s so damn hot in this inn.
But what holds my attention are the long, thin lines scarring his right shoulder.
There’s another one lower, stretching across his lower back.
That one’s still pink along the edges, which could mean it’s not new but not old either.
What caused such injuries? Knife fight? Maybe a fall, scraping along something sharp? Maybe that wolf isn’t as domesticated as they thought. What kind of life are these people living out here?
When he stirs, lifting his head and repositioning it so he’s now facing the other way, I freeze, praying to the gods that he doesn’t wake and catch me standing here, watching him sleep.
I should go, yet seeing a half-naked man confirms my earlier realization that I may be ready to experience a man’s company again.
“What am I doing?” I whisper, knowing I’d be appalled if I discovered someone staring at my naked parts while sleeping, yet I can’t turn away.
My late husband had a moderate amount of body hair, leading me to believe most men were similar, but Garrett’s skin is smooth, and his muscles are well-defined.
He stirs again, reaching behind him to lift the top sheet.
This time, I don’t gamble with him remaining asleep and quickly back out into the hall, pulling the door handle with me.
My mistake is latching it closed. Not sticking around to find out if the click woke him, I hurry downstairs, through the main parlor, and into the back hall.
I don’t stop and go straight into the kitchen, where I find Ruby.
And Ruby is eating a sandwich while balancing an enormous axe on one finger. Startled by the scene before me, I stumble backward, hitting the door frame. “Oh, my apologies! I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”
“Ma’am!” Ruby scrambles to lower the axe, almost dropping her sandwich in the process.
“I thought everyone was asleep.” She rests the weapon against the legs of the table, apparently more worried about the mess of her sandwich.
I take in the enormous axe, which isn’t the normal wood-splitting kind, but rather an exquisite piece with oversized double blades and a thick handle, beautifully carved and polished.
The quality of work is admirable, and the overall size is almost half of Ruby’s height.
The kitchen is large enough to swallow her whole, axe and all. Two of the walls are stacked high with cupboards and shelves, and the others are lined with thick wood counters and iron stoves, the kind meant to feed many and often.
I slowly approach her, wanting to get a better look at the craftsmanship. “How are you able to balance something that big?”
A proud smile touches her lips as she picks up her treasured item and flicks it upward, keeping the toss low, just enough for the handle to spin back into her palm. She lifts it, running her hand over the smooth, carved handle.
“Oh, this old thing. Well, it belongs to my great-grandmother, Olivius ‘the Bone-Crusher’ Granitz.”
“That’s quite the name, Bone-Crusher,” I softly echo. “I imagine there’s a story behind that name?”
The petite woman shifts her gaze from her prized weapon to me, a smile spreading on her round face. “The tales I could tell you about her reign would keep us until next week.”
“Where is she now?” Immediately after asking, I think about how old the woman must be if she’s a great-grandmother. And then I feel terrible, a knot forming in my stomach, if I’ve accidentally brought up painful memories.
Setting the axe back down, leaning it against the long table centered in the kitchen space, she explains, “I don’t know.
I imagine she’s out there somewhere. The last time I saw her was right before our homeland was attacked.
” Her sweet smile fades, and she picks up her sandwich, thick slices of pinkish meat hanging out the side.
“That was a few years ago. Persephone found me wandering the Graveyard Territory and brought me here.”
I slide onto a nearby stool to sit and listen to her story.
“I know I should go out and look for survivors, but I can’t bring myself to do it. What if…” She pauses, staring at her sandwich, then slowly looks over at me. “What if I go home and everyone’s dead, lying about? I don’t want to see that.”
Shaking my head, I agree, “No. No one would want to see that. There’s no judgment here.”
She takes a deep breath and nods, then takes a bite of her midnight snack. With a mouthful of meat and bread, she holds up her sandwich and mutters, “You want one?”
“No, thank you.” I stand and move to the doorway. “What I need is some fresh air.”
The short woman springs to her feet and hurries by me, blocking me from leaving the kitchen. “Whoa! You can’t go outside. Not now. Not while it’s dark.”
“And why not?” I ask. “It’s not like I’m going to wander off. I just need some fresh air.”
“I know you’re new and all, and I have a good inkling that Maureen is going to explain everything you need to know about surviving out here tomorrow, so for now, can you just take my word that going outside at night is a death sentence?”
“A death sentence!” I repeat. “That’s absurd!”
“Where you’re from, yes, it may be ridiculous. But out here, it’s not. I swear on my gran-gran’s axe.” She holds up the giant axe and rests it back on one shoulder. The double-edge blades hang clear out into the hallway behind.
I step away and return to my seat on the stool. “Fine. Maybe I’ll take you up on that sandwich.”
“Now, you’re thinking straight! One meaty sandwich coming up!”