Aldene awoke, relaxed, taking in her surroundings with her eyes closed. She was warm beneath the covers, though jus a slight movement of the blanket told her that the room would be freezing. Beside her, Marcus shivered and said, “What are you doing, chameleon?”
“Trying to decide whether I should stay here or freeze to death by leaving the bed.”
He snorted and got out of bed to toss Aldene her clothes from the hot stones that were only now cool enough to touch. “Better?”
“Much,” she replied.
In ten minutes, they were down the stairs with their bags. They looked around the dark bar, trying to see what the sun didn’t show them yet.
The innkeeper’s wife, Lia, was setting the chairs back down from the tables. Considering her age, Marcus was impressed that she managed it so swiftly.
Lia gave them a warm smile. “Good morning. A fine day today, isn’t it?”
“A very cold day, yes,” Marcus said. “Do you have some food we could take with us on our journey home?”
“Of course. Just sit tight. Here, have some hot soup. That will warm your bellies.”
Lia worked quickly as they ate, which gave them time to plan their course. They would have to take a detour around the usual path and pass through the Checkpoint if they wanted roads that were relatively clear of snow. The kingdom’s guards used those, after all.
“The traffic shouldn’t be too bad at this hour,” Aldene started to say but stopped.
Marcus gave her a nudge, but she remained silent. She was looking at two men who just came down the stairs wearing thick cloaks and sturdy boots. They had short black hair and dark skin like everyone else who was Enzlan. They were built sturdily like fighters, though they carried no visible weapons. The first one who walked across the room and out the door was taller than the other by half a head and wore a brown leather pack on a shoulder.
Marcus couldn’t quite make out their features and didn’t see why Aldene was staring at them. Then he saw the scar on the first man’s neck. “Isn’t he the farmer from down south of Lord Albin’s castle? He’s the one who told the men that there were raiders camping out in the Moon’s Valley.”
“That camp hadn’t been used in weeks,” Aldene whispered back. “If we really did sent out soldiers to invade the camp, we would have been outnumbered by the Ician rogues.”
“That man disappeared soon after he told us about it. And he doesn’t look like a farmer going home in the dark.”
“Not in the slightest.” Aldene slipped off her stool and followed the two men out the door.
“Sweetheart, you need to dress in more layers than that if you’re going out,” Lia said in alarm.
“Don’t worry, she’s wearing more layers than you think,” Marcus said, thinking of the heating charm she wore wrapped around her waist. He dropped some coins on the table. “Thank you for the meal, Lia. You’re a wonderful host.”
“Here, take this. You can munch on it while you travel.” Lia pressed a large bundle of what must have been freshly baked bread and possibly cheese and apples. The usual bundle.
Marcus nodded and collected their bags. When he left the inn, the sky was just blending into a very faint, light shade of blue. His nose and ears quickly turned red from the cold. Marcus let out a soft hiss as he pulled up his cloak’s hood. He followed the footsteps and stopped when he reached the back of the stables, where Aldene crouched. She gestured for him to approach.
She pressed her lips to his ear and breathed out, “There’s an Ician in the stables talking to our man.”
Marcus’s eyes narrowed and he listened.
“No news of it yet,” the Enzlan with a scar said. “But the guards might know something if someone came through last night.”
“If it was successful, there would be more of an uproar.” That was the Ician. His accent was light, almost indiscernible. His voice was soft and dangerous. “It has failed. We must go now. Return to base and report.”
Aldene and Marcus held their breath as they waited for the men to saddle up and leave. When they did, Aldene growled, swore, and nearly kicked the stone wall of the inn before she thought better of it. Instead, she took out a small scroll from her pocket along with an ink bottle and a quill.
“Damned, stupid, greedy, white haired Ician!” she said through clenched teeth. “Damned, stupid, greedy, traitorous scum. I hate this! If I ever find him, I’ll wring his neck.” She kept her breathing quiet but her blood boiled. She waved the paper in the air to let the ink dry before rolling it back up. Aldene glared after the men as she stretched her limbs.
Marcus watched her, his eyes taking in everything he could. She straightened, turned her own eyes to his own, and kissed him.
When they finally parted she said, “I will see you soon.”
“Be careful,” Marcus said unnecessarily.
Aldene gave him another kiss. “And one more thing.”
“Yes?”
“Maya might not greet you warmly when you return.”
Marcus thought of the six years of no contact. His heart sank. “You’re right.”
“I expect the two of you to be laughing together when I rejoin you,” Aldene said firmly, pushing Marcus with the scroll.
Marcus accepted the message and gave her a small smile. “I wish you’d be there. You’re always better at annoying people until they gave in.”
“But you always know what to say.” She squeezed his arms before stepping back with her small pack.
Marcus followed her movements with his eyes until she blended so well into the shadows of the thick trees that he couldn’t find a trace of her without his magic.
Your mother went after some suspicious men who might try to bring down our kingdom. She had to go because without her, the Icians will have the upper hand and kill us all. Marcus mulled over those words before letting out a sigh of his own. He walked into the stables and readied his horse. He led out Aldene’s horse by the reins. It’s not like I can actually tell her that.
The girl sat in front of the table that separated the kitchen from the inn’s tavern. Her faded blue dress covered a lean figure of a sixteen year old girl who was slightly trained in fighting, cooking, and using her brain to get out of trouble. Right now, her sharp brown eyes were staring suspiciously at the bowl of soup sitting in front of her. The aroma was alluring, but it didn’t mean it was safe to eat. That was something she learned a few weeks ago.
“What’s in this?” Maya asked as she picked up the spoon.
Janice, a young woman just four years older than Maya, leaned against the counter with an encouraging smile on her face. “I added the Delightful Greens to the usual herbs that I put in it,” she said. “Is it better than last time?”
Maya scrunched her nose. “Last time you poisoned me by mixing red-yellow spotted mushrooms with Cool Ivy.” Nonetheless, she sniffed it once before taking a sip. Her eyebrows raised and she took a bigger spoonful. “But this is good.”
Janice’s smile widened. “That’s a relief.” She wiped her hands on a brown cloth and flung a few of her braids behind her back. Most of her braids were gathered in a ribbon but the smaller ones always came loose.
Maya twirled her finger around one of her two simple braids, enviously thinking of Janice’s hair, which was so easy to braid. Maya’s was plain and uncooperative. She couldn’t leave her braids untied or else they would fall apart, which was a huge problem if she didn’t have any ribbons in her pockets.
She pushed away her empty bowl and took hold of the tray Janice had piled with soup, bread, and mugs that were full of either cider or ale. “Which table am I supposed to serve?”
“The one next to the fireplace,” Janice said and waved toward the left side of the inn’s main floor.
Maya continued to serve the patrons of the small inn that Janice’s father, Gerald, owned. The crowd was small tonight—not large enough to bring Gerald out from his study to help serve or cook. She wiped the sweat from her brow and let out a relieved sigh when the last man left the tavern to go back to his room.
Janice helped Maya clear the tables, wipe them down, and put the chairs up. When the last candle was blown out, the two of them clambered up the stairs tiredly to their shared bedroom in the large attic which made up the third floor.
They stopped at Gerald’s room, bid him goodnight, and continued on. Maya groaned and rested her head on Janice’s shoulder as they continued to walk. Janice chuckled and opened their door.
“Come on, you sleepy girl. Your bed is right there.”
“Bed…” Maya said in a trance-like state. She stumbled forward and fell face first onto the mattress. She twisted, pulled the blanket up to her nose and sighed. Her eyes caught sight of the two books that were next to her pillow. Both were closed and stacked on top of one another. The pages were yellow with age and the ribbon that marked her place in it needed fixing.
She ran a finger across the edge of the books that held the past life of her parents—parents whom she hadn’t seen in six years and three months.
ns 15.158.61.20da2
