Chapter Eight
Iam left waiting behind a haystack just outside of the small village, as Oleander goes to find me some proper clothing. She said I would raise too much suspicion and there may be more vargs lurking around looking for anything unusual. I peak around the hay and from what I can see, Inverdell is a quaint little town of farms and tradespeople. The town itself is surrounded by a stone wall that looks to be around ten feet tall, perhaps it had once been a garrison. The wall is crumbling in places now though, so I doubt it would keep an army out. Many people, or what I think are people as it is hard to tell from this distance, are exiting and entering carrying various goods which makes me think this might be a hub, even though it is small. There are quite a few farm houses outside of the wall and my question from before, about whether or not this realm had similar animals, seems to be answered when I notice a few herds of sheep and cows lazily grazing on the lush green grasses. I am tapped on the shoulder from behind and whirl around, hand going to where my father’s sword once sat. Oleander casts me a questioning glance and holds up a dark red dress with a lace up corset, a frilly white blouse, as well as some well-worn boots. Hereyes dart to where my hands went, a frown of hurt flicks across her face for the briefest of moments.
“What on earth am I meant to do with that?” I ask, noting the impracticality of such big skirts.
“This is what all the ladies are wearing these days. Come on, pop it on we don’t have all day!” She shoves the clothes at me and takes a step back, watching with anticipation. I grumble something about the hypocrisy of howshegets to wear trousers as I undress, then slide first the blouse then the dress on over my head. I notice the dress has pockets and am pleased that at least the ladies’ fashion hasonepractical element to it.
Oleander steps up close to me and grabs the strings of my corset and starts lacing me up. I can feel her breath as she leans in closer to better see and our closeness makes my cheeks heat as I remember our interactions in the creek.Why am I blushing?
“These look well worn… did you steal these?” I question as I lift up the torn hem of my skirts and the soft boots.
“Do not worry, they won’t be missed.” She gives me a wink as she pulls hard on the corset’s strings causing me to stumble into her. I receive a gentle push back as she looks up at me through her long eyelashes, the corners of her mouth curling up slightly. She gives the strings one more quick yank then ties them in a little bow.
“Besides, I left a hair pinned on the washing line. That is ample payment, so I believe a thank you is in order,” she says as she steps back, giving me a sweeping look, admiring her handiwork. The cinched waist of the corset makes my hips and breasts appear much larger than they usually do and I instantly feel uncomfortable about my femininity.
“How is a hair ample payment?” I ask, wondering how currencies work in this strange land.
“A hair is a promise of a small favour,” she explains matter-of-factly.
“How will she know it was you who left a hair?” I ask, wondering if her hairs are particularly magical.
“If she keeps the hair on her somewhere she will just know when she sees me. But I’m not planning on staying here long enough to have to pay up right now,” she snickers. My stomach drops as I am brought back to the deal I made with the wood sprite when I first entered the Tanglewood Forest.
“Shit, and what if someone were to give five hairsandan eyelash!?” I question, panic clearly written all over my face.
Oleander bites her bottom lip. “Oh no, to whom did you give such a gift?” she responds, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow. “The eyelash is a promise of a kiss,” she chuckles.
“A wood sprite in the Tanglewood Forest!” I wail, washing my face in my hands. She looks at me and bursts out laughing as she places one hand on each shoulder and gives me a little shake.
“I guess you should avoid the Tanglewoods then,” she grabs my wrists to pull them away from my face. The heat from her hands tingles up my arms and soothes me, we both look up from my hands and into each other’s eyes. For a split second I swear I can see flames in her irises and a sudden flash of our lips meeting pops into my mind before I pull my hands back and look away.
Was that from my mind or hers?
“Let’s go ask around at the farmhouses to see if anyone has seen Marissa,” I say, trying to act as if nothing happened as I look off into the distance. Oleander clears her throat and takes a step back.
“We do not need to ask around. All I need is the earring,” she holds her hand out and I nod, fishing around in the pocket of my old clothes to give it to her. Oleander brings it up to her nose and closes her eyes as she inhales deeply.
Her eyes flip open, pupils expanding, she looks towards the village.“They were here… or are here. Her scent is very strong in the wind!” she exclaims with wide eyes.
We both start running towards the entrance of Inverdell.
I have to gather my skirts in my hands to prevent myself from tripping and falling flat on my face so my speed and ability to keep up with Oleander’s long legs is greatly diminished.Ladies need to be able to run!I think back to my mother telling me otherwise and scoff at the inconvenience of running in skirts.
We stop a little ways back from the entrance to the village and slow to a walk so we don’t look too suspicious in our haste. The steady flow of civilians entering the village is easy to meld into and I notice that not all appear to be in their humanoid forms. There are many who show slight changes into their Metamorph forms. The small group of females we are walking behind have holes cut into their skirts to make way for various different variations of tails. Perhaps house cats or some sort of big cat, I can’t quite tell. We pass a male with a humanoid body but two legs of what might be a goat or a deer and another male with big, white, feathered wings on his back.
“Why do some Metamorphs retain parts of their animal forms?” I say to Oleander and she gives me a quick glance as if to tell me to shut up but instead, leans in and whispers in a barely audible tone, her warm breath on my ear sending shivers down my spine.
“Only those with higher power can fully transform out of their animus. Most get stuck with one or more features. My mother looked human except, instead of skin, she had the soft brown coat of a woodland deer. It would be best to not ask any more questions while we are here. Someone might suspect you come from the human realm.” I nod but wonder why it would be so bad for them to know where I come from. I decide to hold onto that particular question for when we have more privacy.
As we walk under the big stone arch of the outer wall and into the village proper, I am met with a colourful and boisterous market. The shock of sounds, sights and smells takes me by surprise because the village appeared fairly calm, even slightly run down, from the outside. The space is packed with socializing fae going from stall to stall of what appears to range from mundane goods like flour, grains and milk to the much less mundane, such as fluorescent powders, strange caged creatures and organs floating in jars. Oleander sees my shock and hesitation and grabs my hand, most likely worried I will get lost in the bustling crowd.
“We have to get past the market, I can’t pinpoint her scent in here, there are too many smells,” Oleander says as she holds tight and pulls me through the chaos. I try to keep my eyes down because scenarios like this are usually what causes my brain to be overloaded with other’s thoughts, and I have never been somewhere so crowded before. As long as I make sure not to brush up against anyone I should be alright, but in such a crowded space that seems to be a difficult task. My curiosity soon gets the better of me, though.
“Chump Chops, get your chump chops here!” a pig-nosed fae calls as he turns what looks like really massive worms over a spit fire.
“Miss! Miss, over here. This fabric would do wonders for your green eyes!” a female with the head of a tiger and an exotic accent calls to me as she holds out a shimmering roll of dark green fabric that changes to sea green as it catches the light. I give her a meek smile and shake my head, quickly looking down to avoid being bombarded with offers for something I have no need of at this moment.
“Charms, for your lovey!” I hear next but cannot see who is speaking.
