Chapter 22
Nothing is lonelier than two people staring at each other after a night they shouldn’t have shared.
Ladies!” Three sharp knocks rang through the tight cabin, startling me out of a deep slumber. My brain was a kaleidoscope of moments from the night before—Hesper, mostly. Fractals of Hesper everywhere. “Breakfast!”
“One moment!” I called out to Ludwig. We’d made a mess of the small wagon with our adventures.
“Of course, of course.” He whistled through his teeth.
I scrambled to gather my cloak and tidy what I could. Hesper silently wrapped herself in her leathers and donned her own hooded cloak. She didn’t look at me once, and my heart only sank a little at that, but she had her easy demeanor about her, that devilish smile not too far away.
She placed her hand on the wagon door, readying to open it, but I stopped her.
“Wait,” I said, almost placing my hand on hers before quickly taking it away. “I’m sorry, I just need a moment.” I felt stupid for asking, but she didn’t say a word. She just gave a nod from beneath her cloak and leaned against the doors, waiting.
Today was the day we would finally arrive in Dwindle. We had been preparing for this moment for weeks and now it was here. My body went cold, and I braced myself against the wagon’s walls.
“Eggs are getting chilly,” Ludwig shouted again, and I steeled myself. No sense in wasting any more time.
I pushed the wagon doors open without another word. Gray mist shrouded everything. The morning light was not far off, but I wondered if the sun’s rays could burn through this cloying fog.
“Hiya!” Ludwig said. He was propped against a wagon wheel, smoking a pipe and looking idly out into the nothingness. Despite his age, he hopped up on both feet, a spring in his step already.
I stepped out of the wagon and into the mist. Something tickled my ankles and I yelped, falling back into Hesper. The fog was so dense, I couldn’t see what creature must be scuttling over my legs.
“You don’t like waking up to smell the flowers?
” Ludwig inquired with a bushy eyebrow raised, a look of mischief in his silver eyes.
Then, he took a deep draw of pipe smoke and blew it right toward the fog clouding my feet.
The delicate smoke rings burned away the gray, revealing a shock of yellow underfoot.
Hundreds of dandelions reached toward the sky.
“How in the world?” I was dumbfounded.
“Well, would you look at that?” Hesper said, releasing me. I had forgotten I’d slammed up into her.
“I thought nothing much grew on Irk Road,” I said to Ludwig, who bent over, plucked a few flowers, and tucked them behind each ear.
“It doesn’t,” he said, and his eyes shone quicksilver.
Ah, strange. But I refused to think about it any more deeply; I had enough to worry about already.
Two plates were set up on a small log, each plumb full with a delicious spread. Bacon, eggs, savory pastries, fruits.
My stomach curdled.
“Eat up, then we’ll finish the last leg of your journey.”
I nodded, taking the plate and trying to force down the food. It tasted like ash in my mouth. Even Hesper, whose appetite was almost as reliable as mine, mostly pushed the food around. Ludwig took note.
“Yes, I wouldn’t be famished either.” He gave us a solemn smile. “Let’s not draw it out more than we need to. On you go.” His bushy eyebrows wriggled like a happy caterpillar as he whistled into the fog. Two golden horses emerged from the gloom, settling into their ranks at the front of the wagon.
Without a word, Hesper and I headed back inside—where it still smelled of what we shared last night.
I thanked the Goddess for the ferocious hoofbeats outside, or else Hesper might hear just how hard my heart beat as I sat across from her.
And it wasn’t because we were heading into the most dreaded village in Nestryia.
“I wonder if the stories are true,” she said, messing with the leathers around her wrist.
“Me too,” I muttered, picking at the threads of my cloak.
This wagon ride was torture. I didn’t want to arrive in Dwindle, but it was so close now, I needed to just get it over with. And then there was the stupid part of me that wanted to crawl into Hesper’s lap and kiss her until we both forgot what lay in wait for us.
Instead, we sat in utter silence, neither of us looking the other in the eye.
Well, this is going splendidly.
Too soon, the wagon came to a stop. Hesper and I both stayed still, willing the moment to last just a bit longer before we faced what lay ahead.
But whatever lay in wait today, I would deal with it. Dwindle may not have what they hoped for, but they at least would have someone who could write up a wickedly useful garden plan. As for the stories, well, I couldn’t deny that growing a garden may be the least of our worries.
The doors opened, and we stepped out into watery morning light. Ludwig pointed to a hill that I could just make out through all the gray.
“Just up that way,” he said, pulling me into a bone-crushing hug before hopping back on his carriage, the fog parting for his golden steeds.
I didn’t get a chance to tell him goodbye or to say sorry.
We were all so wrong about him, and now he was off again.
An old habit—never saying the things I needed until the time had long since passed.
We made our way up the steep incline. My heart was racing, my breathing unsteady.
What would we see when we crested the hill?
A town in ruins? Would the people even let me in?
What would a town even look like, surrounded by Shadow Woods and sucked dry from withering magic this close to what used to be Starfall?
A familiar shape plummeted out of the sky, landing right on Hesper’s outstretched arm.
“The area is secure, Madame. The Prince’s hounds have not been seen since Lore, and I have received no other reports of gathering forces. It seems he has been kept at bay, for now,” Edge said coolly, Warty at his side, both perched proudly on Hesper’s arm looking like the perfect henchmen.
Hesper gave a quick nod and shot them both back up into the sky.
At least we didn’t have to worry about the Prince for today, for now. Hesper and I kept walking in silence. Just as we reached the top of the hill, the sun came out in full—or as much as it could behind thick clouds and mist. The world went from dark gray to a slightly lesser gray.
And nestled at the bottom of the valley, surrounded by nothing but the dark, dense forest and dying grass, lay Dwindle.
From up here, the town looked unassuming.
I expected it to be craggily, midnight black, hewn from impenetrable stone, or a myriad of other unwelcoming sights.
Instead, it looked like any other village.
It had the same tint of gray that everything else in this part of the land had, but it wasn’t unpleasant.
Something about it almost seemed familiar.
A small village is a village, I supposed.
But as we approached, Dwindle quickly became unlike any village I had seen in Nestryia. I stepped onto its cobblestone streets and looked in awe at the sights around me.
Ornately painted signs hung from every shoppe. The paint peeled, the wood was misshapen, but the craftsmanship was a marvel. The buildings themselves, however, were the true spectacle.
To our right was a cobbler shoppe shaped like a boot, fittingly named Tuff as Ole Boots—a whole building shaped like a warped leather boot. Across from Tuff’s sat Bards we had not met or seen a single person, though we were arriving wickedly early.
I could only assume the town would be stirring any minute now.
But there were no smells from the bakeries, no coffee brewing, no early-morning farmers tending to the earth before the heat of the day.
Maybe it was not the town itself that found its way into scary bedtime stories.
“You’re here!” a deep voice rasped from behind us. I startled, and Hesper’s hand flew to her side, where a weapon was sure to be hidden.
On the front steps of a dusty purple cottage stood a tall, thin man. I couldn’t make out much of him through the gloom, just a murky outline. He began striding toward us, and Hesper shoved me behind her. I peeked out around her shoulder, readying myself for what might come.
But the fog parted and out came a man with long gray hair pulled back in a low pony.
His chestnut skin was without a blemish, yet his eyes seemed to betray his age.
Old and young all at once. His dark blue robe caught the wind, revealing a simple tunic and work pants underneath.
The knees looked to be patched and repatched, so much so that the trousers had to be hefted high above his waist to hold up the weight of the added cloth.
A resourceful man. I nearly smiled, despite the pressing danger.
“Clara?” He pointed to Hesper.
“And Hesper!” He pointed to me, his forehead gleaming with sweat.
“The other way around,” I said. Hesper still had her hand at her side, wary and ready. I tried to come out from behind her, but she pushed me back into place.
Ass.
“What’s the other way around?” he asked, his eyebrows knitting together.
“Our names,” I said from behind Hesper. How ridiculous this must look.
“Those aren’t your names?”
“Those are our names.” I scratched at my head.
“But they are the wrong way around,” he replied seriously.
“No, I, uh. I’m Clara, and that’s Hesper.” He shoved his forehead into the palm of his hand.
“Forgive me! Clesper and Hara.” At that, Hesper’s hands relaxed at her side, and she released me from my place of protection.
Any threat this man posed had more to do with memory than maiming.
I stifled a laugh despite myself. Still, some fear lingered.
There was no reason to trust him, not yet at least.
“Clara and Hesper,” I corrected gently.
He stared at us for a long moment, smiling widely and making no move to say or do anything else.
“And your name?” I broke the silence. He shook his head vigorously, reemerging into reality.
“Angus Laurel, mayor of Dwindle, at your service! And you, Clesper—oh, forgive me—Clara, are here to save our town! Save us!”
He gave a loud clap of his calloused hands.
Cottage doors burst open, people rolled out from behind carts, a few pixies flew out of the coffee spout at Bards & Brew, and a dwarf popped out of the dead flower boxes beside me, startling me right into Hesper’s arms. She caught me and gruffly placed me back on my feet.
There was such a swarm of beings all around us that, if they meant us harm, we’d not stand a chance—even if Hesper was a fae warrior.
Perhaps she’d escape, hewing her way through the fray, but I’d be trapped.
We were encircled by the entire town by the looks of it.
Humans, dwarves, pixies, small folk, and nymphs.
They all wore an array of different clothing, reminding me of the Lore market streets.
Everyone looked like they were from everywhere.
The only thing that they shared among them was the tattered state of their clothing—and the hope.
Such hope was in all of their eyes, their smiles, every part of them.
My heart sank so low, I thought it might have left my body entirely.