23 A Bad Taste
A Bad Taste
Spring crept over Caerthalyn like a warm breath over cool glass, soft and slow as it blurred the edges of winter.
The thick blanket of snow covering the northern mountain had begun its retreat towards the peak, birds filled the morning skies with song, underpinning the hush of dawn, and swallows swooped low overhead at dusk.
Life had returned to the city like a balm to the stinging bite of winter.
Vaelira stepped into Old Town, breathing deep lungsful of sweet evening air. Thick clumps of violet buds clung to the stone buildings, patiently waiting to bloom. Garlands stretched high above the street, tiny metal flowers in every colour tinkling in the gentle breeze.
Spring Equinox. She had completely forgotten the holiday until a message had arrived from Elijah that afternoon.
With the hours she’d spent fruitlessly searching for any mention of Maerin Vireldane, the days had caught up to her.
She had hardly noticed when Winter Solstice had passed and had only remembered when Ressa and Fang had dragged her to the refectory, insisting she had to try to the roasted duck and blackberry sauce.
The barracks even loosened the curfew for the night, but she had gone to the library instead of celebrating with the others.
It didn’t feel right when her last memories of the solstice were with Jon.
When they had been children, their father had explained that while Winter Solstice was the longest night of the year, and therefore the most dangerous, it was a celebration of the days growing longer moving forward, and a reminder to keep your focus ahead, rather than stuck in the past. It was a lesson she never seemed able to learn.
She would be at the library now if Galfri hadn’t adamantly refused. He had said she needed a break and that she was looking worse than a pauper scribes nib. She’d tried not to take it as an insult.
The Seven Squids was alive with chatter when she arrived.
Heartviolets had been hung from the beams and propped in clay jars atop each table, and some people had braided tiny flowers into their hair, others wearing them in long chains around their necks.
The clink of cups and peals of laughter suggested some patrons had a head start on the festivities.
She scanned the usual corner, finding Axel and Willem sitting side by side, Orphi sprawled on the floor warming his thick fur by the hearth. As she approached, she counted four empty plates. Taking a quick look towards the bar, she spotted a familiar crop of blonde hair, and her stomach twisted.
After finding out about Vaelira’s power, Erryn hadn’t spoken to her.
Their patrols had been a little more than uncomfortable, and Vaelira had wondered if their friendship was over before it ever really begun.
It had taken some work, but Erryn had loosened up a little these past few weeks, at least enough to have a civil conversation.
“Pleased you could make it,” Axel said, waving her over. “You’ve eaten?”
“I grabbed something before heading out,” she said, sliding in beside Willem. Orphi lifted his head, and she scratched behind his ears.
Willem sighed, placing a hand over his chest and giving her a grin. “I must remember to thank the gods for sending you,” He leaned in conspiratorially, producing a delicate white flower from inside his jacket. “Your beauty is a cherished relief from his old mug.”
“I heard that,” Axel grumbled.
“You were meant to,” Willem said sweetly, tucking the flower behind her ear.
“Will you two stop bickering,” Erryn cut in, sliding a tankard towards Vaelira. “We’re here to have fun. Let’s not start at each other’s throats.”
Willem’s jaw dropped in mock offense. “I would never,” he said. He winked at Vaelira. “Unless asked.”
Vaelira laughed. “Maybe if you were five years older,”
He looked stunned for a moment, then laughed so wholeheartedly, it made her giddy.
This. This was what she needed. A distraction. She took a long swig from the tankard and let out a breath as it settled warm in her chest. The little flame seemed to swell in answer.
She was learning to master that flame, when she wasn’t training or buried in the archives with Galfri, teaching herself to keep her blood cool and pulse steady when frustration or anger rose, and practicing how to hone her essensia through the amethyst. It was a work in progress.
She usually practised early, before the research made hours slip away, the sun never far off by the time she returned to the barracks.
She glanced around the table and considered mentioning her research but thought better of it. Nothing she’d found felt solid enough to say aloud. Especially not here, where anyone might be listening. What was the point in worrying them when she had no answers?
The chair beside hers scraped back, and Elijah slid in.
His hair was combed back, a loose strand curling against his forehead.
His clothes were immaculate, his jacket a deep indigo that shone in the firelight, his shirt an even deeper, pearlescent blue.
He leant forward, turning to her with a smile that hinted at a shared secret.
“Nice clothes,” she said breathing in the scent of soap and steel.
He dipped his head. “There’s a party at the palace. I stayed long enough for the right people to see my face, but I’d much rather be here.” His eyes darted to her lips.
“Way to ruin the mood,” Willem muttered, crossing his arms. Vaelira straightened, clearing her throat.
“I’ve ordered another round of drinks,” Elijah said, still grinning. “We’re celebrating.”
“You’ve got that right,” Willem said, raising his drink high.
Elijah laughed. “Not the festival, but let’s discuss it later.”
“Hold on,” Vaelira said, scowling. “You can’t do that. What’s got you in such a good mood?”
“I’m always in a good mood.”
“Liar,” Erryn said. “Tell us.”
Elijah sighed, glanced over his shoulder, and leaned across the table “My mother no longer has an interest in our lovely Vaelira.”
Vaelira sucked in a breath. She hadn’t heard a word since the Queen’s deadline had passed. The uncertainty had gnawed at her like something unseen chewing through her from the inside. The relief hit so fast, she was breathless when she spoke. “Why were you waiting to tell me?”
He shrugged. “Dramatic flair?”
She frowned, and he gave her an apologetic look.
“She only confirmed it this morning,” he added quietly, as if he knew exactly what the waiting had done to her. “Apparently she has more pressing matters that require her attention.”
“Hang on,” Willem said. “I think we’re missing something. Since when did your mother have it out for Vaelira?”
“This is the first I’ve heard of it,” Axel added, nodding.
Elijah turned to her. “You didn’t tell them?”
She shrugged. It had never even occurred to her to mention it.
He leaned back and clapped his hands together. “I guess it doesn’t matter now.”
A barmaid bustled over. She set down a tray loaded with drinks beside Elijah, bending lower than necessary, her full cleavage merely inches from his face. She flashed a sultry smile his way, but he didn’t even glance at her.
Instead, his hand disappeared under the table. Vaelira felt his fingers slide across her thigh, then squeeze right above her knee. Her breath caught before she could fully register the touch.
He gave her a knowing look, as if to say I’ll explain more later.
Across the table, Willem was watching the barmaid leave, his mouth open.
“If you gape any wider,” Axel said, “she’ll have to come back and wipe down the table.”
Willem shut his mouth, shaking his head slowly. “How come they never look at me like that?”
“Like I said,” Vaelira grinned, “give it five years. The ladies will be falling over themselves to get to you.”
“I’m not interested in ladies. I prefer my women a little rough around the edges.”
“You could always try girls your own age,” Elijah offered.
Willem shot him a dark look and downed the rest of his drink.
The next hours blurred by in an endless flow of drink and conversation.
The tavern swelled with music, roars of laughter breaking out above constant hum of chatter, and for once, the chaos was a comfort.
Vaelira let herself melt into it, let the drink and warmth ease all worry of Maerin Vireldane for her churning mind.
Willem said something that had the others howling, and Vaelira laughed too, despite not having heard the punchline. She couldn’t help herself. Their joy was infectious.
She glanced at Elijah and found him already watching her.
His cheeks were flushed, his eyes bright, his grin wide and unguarded.
He reached for the seat of her chair and pulled her closer.
She giggled, grabbing his arm to steady herself, but then she stopped abruptly, embarrassed by how childish she sounded.
He didn’t seem to notice. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and turned back to the table where Axel and Willem were bickering again.
She should shrug him off, but she was finally enjoying herself after so many months of constant worry.
She could allow herself one carefree evening with her friends.
Vaelira kept her gaze on Elijah. He chuckled at something, his grip on her shoulder tightening slightly, as if he knew she was watching. Her skin heated, and the flame in her chest flickered off beat with her skittering heart.
Perhaps it was foolish to let her guard down, to forget who he was, but his arm felt good wrapped around her.
Every breath he took moved his chest gently against her side, and she liked the shiver it sent over her, the sensation a stark contrast to the heat of him, like hot berry pie and iced cream on a summer evening.
She glanced towards the hearth, expecting to find Orphi asleep on the floor, but the dog wasn’t dozing. He was bolt upright, snout raised, eyes fixed across the room.
She leaned out of Elijah’s grip and twisted to scan the tavern. Nothing seemed out of place. People were clapping along to a lute in the corner, cards shuffled at the next table, and barmaids passed with trays. A hot breath touched her ear, and she jumped.
“Everything alright?” Elijah asked.
She gave the room one more glance before nodding and turning back. A man squeezed behind her chair, and his thick southern accent snagged her attention.
“I’m tellin’ ya. She’s ravin’ mad. Closed tha ‘ole thing off, spends all ‘er days in there.”
Another man followed, trailing the sour stench of pipe smoke. “No denying the Queen’s a lunatic, Ralph. I’m more concerned with these nobles creeping round our parts. They leave a bad taste in my mouth.”
Elijah stiffened beside her but didn’t speak, didn’t even look towards the men.
Vaelira hadn’t realised the nobles were still being forced to use the Old Town chapel, or that Queen Mairese was spending all day at prayer. The Noble Quarter must be in an uproar, but what could they do? She was their Queen and to defy her openly was treason.
Orphi let out a single silent bark. If she hadn’t already been looking in that direction, she might have missed it. He barked again, his eyes still fixed on the tavern doors.
Vaelira turned to Axel to find him already watching.
“What is it?” Erryn asked.
“Not sure,” Axel said, standing and crossing to the hearth. He crouched beside the dog. “What is it, boy?”
Orphi barked again. Elijah stood abruptly, heading for the door.
“Hey!” Willem called. “Wait for us!”
The tavern doors shut behind them, cutting off the cheerful sounds of celebration. The street outside was silent and empty. Lamps shone overhead, yet the cobbles gleamed pale under the moonlight.
Orphi bounded down the steps. He stood rigid, his attention fixed on the opposite street. Axel sighed. “The old boy’s chasing ghosts again. He gets skittish arou—”
A soft chuckle cut him off. A man stepped out from the shadows.
Vaelira reached for her power.
He began walking slowly towards them, his arms swinging idly at his sides. There was an almost imperceptible limp in his gait, his left foot landing heavier than the right.
As he drew near, Elijah swore. The streetlight caught on the man’s face, revealing thick, blackened veins spidering across his skin. His eyes were white, his teeth that same poisoned black as the woman and girl from weeks before.
“They’re using poison to kill the hosts,” she murmured.
Elijah grunted his agreement, the sound low in his throat.
The girl’s face flashed in her mind. The pink bow. The long braid going up in flames.
Anger surged. She took a long breath, willing her pulse to slow.
You can be angry, Galfri had said, but do not let emotion control your essensia.
She took another breath, but it wasn’t working. Her head swam with drink and memory. She saw the daggers piercing the girl’s pale flesh, the cruel grin stretched across her face.
The man cocked his head towards her and his grin widened. When he spoke, his voice was guttural. “Pity you burned the last one. We have certain appetites for a sweet little thing like her.”
Vaelira gritted her teeth, her shoulders heaving, her breaths coming fast.
“Easy,” Axel warned.
But she couldn’t think past the rage searing down her throat, past the insatiable need to burn.
Then she lunged.