Chapter 21
The next morning, Ronan stirs a finger in a steaming mug of murky dirt-colored liquid. Supposedly, the drink will reenergize us for our travels.
This tavern is different from Pally’s on the Bend—the clientele is haggard, human, and much less diverse than the creatures of Aldorin.
A woman with colorless skin and long eyelashes balances trays of piping hot sausages and creamed potatoes, zipping around the room like a trapped dragonfly.
The bluish semicircles beneath her eyes seem to deepen as she works.
Despite the low energy murmuring among guests, the tavern is busy. The woman bussing tables seems to be alone, which is why each step she takes is filled with urgency.
Ronan shoves his finger into his mouth, nods his approval, and empties his drink within a breath. He sighs with satisfaction, then leans into his chair, hands nestling behind his head.
“Kava,” he slurs when he realizes I’m still watching him. “It’ll wake you up. You sure you don’t want to try some?”
I glance at my wooden cup. It’s filled with fresh-pressed Aldor-berry juice brought directly from the forest. I’d had one sip and nearly contorted my face into a permanent grimace from the drink’s bitterness. The berries themselves had looked much more appetizing.
Though Ronan seems to have enjoyed his Kava drink, I’d rather not offend other customers—or heavens forbid, the owner—with my distaste. I’d learned my lesson at the dwarf’s tavern. Something tells me that though this pub’s clientele is human, they deal with the more-than.
“Not today,” I say simply with a casual shrug.
“Everything tastin’ alright over here?” the barmaid asks us between breaths. Her chest heaves with each word.
I wave a hand at her and smile. “Yes, it’s all delicious.” I ignore her obvious ogling at my more-than-half-full drink and tilt my head to redirect her attention. “While we have you, may we pay our tab?”
Her brows scrunch together in consternation. “Not now. Got no time and too many customers. Leave yer coin at the bar and I’ll trust ye to leave exact change.” She winks. “And any tips if yer feelin’ generous.”
Not a second later, she’s bustling about again, retrieving more dishes crammed with food. I turn to Ronan, who shares my befuddlement, and each of us laughs.
There isn’t much that could break my good mood today.
I reach into my pocket and retrieve two silver coins. I know they are more than enough, but our journey is coming to a close, and I won’t be needing them for anything else.
Before I place them on the counter, two voices rise above the rest of the murmuring crowd, as though wanting to be heard.
Ronan doesn’t seem to notice, and he makes his way to the door without another glance.
I linger a moment longer to catch the tail end of the conversation, not because I hear anything particularly interesting, but because I can sense the conversation may be one I need to hear.
I lean my elbows on the counter and spin one of the coins on my smooth thumbnail, bending an ear to listen.
“Just a rumor,” a male voice grunts. His voice is gravelly and warped from age.
“I dunno, Brynda’s my friend, and she said it’s true.” The second speaker is a young girl, probably no older than twelve.
“Brynda is a child. How else could she think of something as blasphemous as,” the man’s voice quiets, “the crown prince’s demise ?”
“It isn’t blasphemous, Abba. Brynda said?—”
I don’t stay to hear the rest. It matters not if I find who spread the rumor, because I will be blamed regardless. All that matters is someone leaked the information, and people outside are now hearing of my brother’s death.
I push the tavern door and raise my arms to the azure sky, then swing my arms down with a huff.
Ronan leans against the outer wall. The mesh bag strung across his body has started to smell. I guess the tallup won’t stay fresh for long after it’s been pulled from its breeding grounds. The smell is vapid.
That’s being generous.
Our horses seem happy to see us as the poor stableboy who, in the midst of brushing Claude’s right flank, is whipped in the face when the black stallion fwips his tail.
I chuckle and toss the boy a silver coin for his attentiveness. His eyes widen at the payment, and for a moment, he forgets we’re here as he studies the metallic currency.
Ronan throws himself over Melanie, and I swivel atop Claude. With a nod to the stammering stable hand, we trot down the cobblestone path and out of Arcanvale.
Our ride is mostly silent, save for the occasional comment Ronan has on the dryness of the wooded areas we travel through.
With the approach of autumn, the air is already beginning to lose its moisture.
It’s as though overnight, instead of sweating from humidity, we are left to huff against the wind’s crispness.
That isn’t all I notice, though. The farther we stray from Aldorin, the more a sapping emptiness stirs within me—a wilting of my eluviam, as though it has eaten something sour that even the sweet nectar of magic is unable to satiate. I don’t like this feeling.
It had been overwhelming at first, but thankfully, it descended upon me after I’d gone to bed for the night. Like an unforgiving slap to the face, it had afflicted me with a hunger stronger than a flame. It must be upset that we were leaving Aldorin so soon, right after it had appeared, starved.
Now a dullness rests near my heart, scratching slowly at my insides, begging to be quenched.
“Do you have any spare elixirs on you?” I ask, somehow feeling that he does, in fact, have some on him. It’s exactly as Pluto had said. I can sense the magic.
Ronan raises a brow at me, but he doesn’t appear any more alarmed than usual. His nose twitches. “What would you need something like that for?”
“I meant to tell you yesterday, but…” I hold a hand to my heart. Sure enough, there are two pulses there. One beats stronger than the other, for now. I smile. “Something…awakened in me yesterday. I’m not sure how or why, but I feel it.” I pat my chest for emphasis. “Here.”
Ronan pulls the reins violently, and Melanie whinnies in discomfort. He blabbers for a few seconds as he tries to find a coherent reply. Finally, he settles on, “So that’s what that damned elf was so cheeky about.”
I frown. So he knew and didn’t bother to acknowledge it?
“Isn’t this something to…celebrate?”
“Of course not.” Ronan spits. My frown deepens. “Look, the only humans capable of using magic are mages, and after Xavelor’s death… I’m sorry, but I don’t want to be involved in that again.”
“I thought mages had to incant their magic, not that it…bloomed within them.”
Ronan snorts. “ Bloomed ? Rami, that’s not something that happens to anyone .”
I cross my arms, daring to be bolder than I feel. “Am I just anyone ?”
He rolls his eyes and kicks his heels into Melanie’s sides. She chuffs before starting forward. When I catch up to him, he sighs. “You know what I mean. No one just… has magic appear in them. You’re either born with it, or you’re not, and if you’re not, you have to ingest it some other way.”
I consider this. How could I be an exception to this rule, then?
Am I an exception ?
I will the strange thought away.
“I don’t have an answer as to how or why I now have an eluviam, but I do know your elixirs will help satiate the hunger I feel for magic. Am I wrong?”
He breathes deeply as he runs a hand through his messy, bright hair. “It…suppresses magic, sure. But I’m not sure it’ll have the effect you want. You’ll need to consume magic somehow, not push it away. The elixirs conceal. You want your magic to be sated.”
My eluviam protests with a quick and sharp twist. I wince and bring my hand to my heart, trying to calm the voracious gnawing sensation on my own. Of course, it doesn’t work.
Ronan sucks in a breath, shifting the fish satchel over his shoulder. “This is meant for Ether, Ramiel. It was the whole reason we left. Try to limit the drool when you see it?”
My mouth shuts, my ears heat, and I dab away the dribble of wetness hanging from my lower lip. I didn’t realize I’d been eyeing the copper-colored fish. But now it’s nearly all I can do not to rip it to shreds and eat whatever magic it possesses.
“We’ll be there soon,” he says warmly. “Don’t worry, I’m sure she’ll have a way to help you cope with your new burden.”
I nod and attempt to lure my focus away from the void expanding in my chest.
A group of soldiers wearing my father’s military colors greets us on the outskirts of Bellmane. Each wears a grave expression, and for a moment, my heart drops. Have they already learned that someone has betrayed the throne, spreading rumors of Xavelor’s death?
“We’re here to ensure your safe arrival, Your Highness,” the man at the end of the line says. Each soldier puts a fist to his heart. “You’ve returned early. The king will be pleased.”
I snort but quickly cough it into my hand. “I’m sure he will. After all, I bring great news.”
They bow, allowing us to pass. The roads don’t appear to have been cleared for us to easily traipse across unnoticed, so we make our way along the outer edge of the castle town, careful to remain inconspicuous.
A humming starts in my chest and spreads to my arms and legs, a heightened excitement that makes my hands shake and my teeth chatter.
I’ve managed to make it this far without tearing the fish apart, but I believe the only thing holding me together is imagining Ether’s face when she sees that I’ve brought it to her in one piece.
Will she smile?
Will she smile because of me?