She turned and scowled at him. “Ah, yes. Tell that to the fever you’ve been trying to hide. Honey protected me when I needed it most, and I vowed to protect her and all who are dear to her in return. And that includes you now.”
Ainsworth had never seen Ashe look so…discomposed. It was as if all the knots she had tied herself into to keep her feelings tightly leashed had come undone, and they spiraled out in a lash of disappointment and anger at herself. “Please, Ashe. I may only have known Honey a short time, but there is no way she’d think you failed her. And— Why? Why did you make that vow? Did Honey…did she make you swear it, or something?”
“Matron, no.” Ashe snorted. “If anything, she looked rather uncomfortable when I swore it, but she said if it would make me happy, she’d be fine with it. So I’ve stood guard for the Misnich Inn almost every day since. This is the longest I’ve been away from that door in a while.”
They walked on a little farther, Ainsworth doing his best not to grimace every time his wounded ankle made contact with the grassy slope below. It was how he knew they were much, much closer to the inn. A different, luscious kind of life seemed to burst from the land, as though it accumulated rapidly before the threshold of the mountain range it could not cross.
“It’s a bit of a grim tale, really, so I’ll make it quick,” said Ashe, who picked up the pace as she did so. Ainsworth kept silent, sweatbeading his brow as he struggled to keep up. Perhaps she had been right about his wound being more grievous than he leton.
“Wildeshifters like me, who have complete use of the gift, are fairly rare. I don’t know who my parents were; I was kidnapped, presumably, as a baby. Don’t know where I’m from, don’t really have much to say about growing up. The group that took me continued to target wildeshifter children, so I was never lonely. We were kept together usually, traveling and always given comfortable lodgings, food…I never really questioned it, that way of life. Those who took us made us transform into small animals to spy on targets so we could determine the best time to rob them. Or they’d make us become horses, racing away from adventuring parties we’d stolen from while they slept. You doing all right back there?”
“I— Yes, I’m fine,” Ainsworth said, trying not to pant as he kept up with her pace. “Ashe, I’m so sorry—”
“I do not want your pity, scholar. I know now they are loathsome people, but my captors, at least, were not cruel—not even when we failed in our efforts. I had a warm bed each night and a full belly. It’s more than I can say for many children of the Kingdom of Saltquart.” She shrugged. “We as a people are desired for our gifts—our blood’s properties, our shifting abilities. I do not see why. There is an abundance of magic to be explored, a world full of wonders and other interesting people—and yet so much fascination withus.It’s why so many default to working for the kingdom. We are offered protection, and it is a more grievous crime to harm wildeshifters working within the king’s service than those who remain outside it.”
Ainsworth winced. “It’s not much of a choice, is it?”
“A life of service, usually delivering letters, or a life hunted if you don’t hide well enough. Indeed, it is not. Anyway, I didn’t realize anything was wrong with how I lived until we came to the Misnich Inn. My captors planned to take me alone to Mount Vengeance to see the dragon. They thought I might be able to shift into a dragon with a visual reference, and it would be another weapon in their arsenal. I was quite a bit better than my peers at shifting, so…”
“Matron, Ashe. C-can you…?”
“Dunno; I’ve never tried. Anyway, Honey, as I understand, had quite recently become innkeeper. I remember thinking she was a little skittish, but when she got whiff of what my captors intended, she— I’ve never seen her explode like that since. Do you…do you know how strong Honey is?” She smirked at him. “Matron have mercy if you are ever on the receiving end of one of her blows. I was an adult by then—well, I had reached my seventeenth year, anyway. I had never left my line of work because I knew of no other way to live. I woke up late the next day, and Honey said my group had left without me. Before I left to catch up, she snatched my arm to hold me back. Told me I was free, that I didn’t have to follow them. I don’t know how she convinced them to leave me—perhaps she paid them off. But she said that I could stay at the Misnich Inn until I figured out what I wanted to do with my life.” Ashe grinned. “Turns out what I wanted to do was stay at the inn.”
“Goodness,” Ainsworth said when she had finished. “Does everyone at the inn have such a tragic backstory?”
She considered him for a moment, mouth twitching. “Nah. I think Spin was just looking for a place to retire. She used to be some kind of merchant or something.”
“Oh, good. I was worried I hadn’t met the requirements to stay.”
Ashe tipped back her head and laughed, and Ainsworth found himself grinning. He had been so eager to secure her friendship when he had first arrived at the Misnich Inn, but then it had been a means to an end, a way to learn more about the elusive wildeshifters. How foolish he had been! The friendship was—and always should have been—its own reward.
And an invaluable one, at that.
“Come, we do not have far to go now, scholar. I can tell you about all the beasts that roam here—the ones I have only seen while in a wildeshift form. I believe it will be most useful for your book.”
Chapter 21
Later that afternoon,Ainsworth paused to inspect his ankle. Thankfully, Ashe’s blood had helped reverse the decomposition from the previous day, and his skin was a shiny pink where the beast had clawed at him—not unlike a healed burn. It was still tender to the touch, though, and small punctures from the beast’s teeth remained stubbornly open. “I think if we get you back to the inn with more salves and poultices, and maybe slather some mashed oats and butter on it, we will reduce the likelihood of a scar,” Ashe suggested when she caught him inspectingit.
“That would be most welcome, but also…” He shrugged as he pulled his torn trouser leg back down. “I don’t mind if a scar cannot be avoided.”
And he meant it. He was not surrounded by people who cared for appearances in the same way those in his circle back in Hinslyth did. He winced as he once recalled mocking a sorcerer for the pockmarks on his face after a potions mishap. Ainsworth had made his circle of friends laugh with his cruel jest—made all the more despicable by the vain pride he had taken in his own appearance that night.
Whowasthat person? And when, Ainsworth wondered, did he disappear? He was mortified at his toxic tongue and felt a great shame wash over him. If he ever saw that sorcerer again, he would make it up to him somehow.
They continued on. A gentle drizzle had begun falling again when Ashe suddenly exclaimed in delight: “It’s Quiddle!”
Indeed, the lad was flying up the hill toward them. They were still an hour or so from the inn, Ainsworth reckoned, but he must have been looking for them, and Ainsworth reflected with a pang that it was his fault; he had made them late.
“Ainsworth! Ainsworth! Ainsworth!” the boy cried as he darted up the hill with a speed that had Ashe laughing in admiration.
“Quiddle! It’s all right! We’re all right!” Ainsworth called back. But the boy did not stop until he was doubled over and panting right in front of them. He finally gave them a quick once-over when he caught his breath. “Aye, I know. We thought you’d maybe just had a bit of trouble with the spell or somethin’, but Honey said you’d turn up soon.”
Oh. How very practical of her.
“But—I wanted to see you home—so I figured I’d—come this way, for a few hours,” he wheezed. “You—left your route with Bren, and I—reversed it. Thought I might bump into you.”
Ashe raised a brow. “Well, I hope it was worth the running. If you could help Ainsworth with this last stretch—his ankle was shredded by a gnycht—then I can wildeshift into a bird and fly down to ensure the appropriate salves are prepared and—”
