Page 109 of Crown of the Courtesan

Emerald and silver flash as he passes me his Achlys Dagger. The cold metal settles into my palm. “Your fierce spirit is never dead. Take this just in case.”

* * *

Cautious of any wagons on the road, Beatrix and I walk the footpath instead of taking a horse. As we trudge through the glen and woods, mud cakes six inches up our hemlines until we finally reach the quaint yet modest Borealla Village.

“We’ll stop at the baker’s first and chat up old Molly like usual,” Beatrix murmurs beneath the hood of her woolen cloak. “She loves to gossip.”

I finger-comb my braid to obscure my identity further, making sure to tuck and hide the heavy metal of my circlet.

She forms a list out loud. “And the farm stand always has an ear for traveling whispers.”

We meander through the alley on the outskirts before we casually join the crowd shopping at the market. Navigating the major thoroughfares, we return the curious glances from the villagers with friendly greetings and pause at a fabric merchant to feel the silks.

“After we gather the ingredients for Verity, we should order a pint at the inn,” I whisper sideways. “Men are never able to hold their tongues when they drink.”

She agrees as we make our way toward the bakery. The aroma of freshly baked bread wafts over the street, warm and inviting.

A bell tinkles as we move through the shop doorway. Once inside, Beatrix cheerfully catches up with Molly while she purchases more sourdough starter. I linger nearby, pretending to peruse the strawberry tart displays.

“Don’t be out late, dearie. There was another disappearance yesterday. Such a shame what this realm is becoming.”

I freeze, pulse quickening.

Beatrix lightly clutches at her throat. “Who was it this time?”

“A priestess passing through on her way to visit family,” Molly says, her voice dipping. “They got her in the alley behind Bartdom’s Inn.”

“But Billy Bartdom never lets dangerous people stay in his establishment. It’s always been safe there.”

“Times are different, I’m afraid. Hard to know who to trust.” Molly wraps the purchase in brown paper and pushes it over the counter. “Be sure to head straight home, ya hear?”

Beatrix clears her throat, slipping the crinkling parcel into her cloak pocket. “Did anyone see which direction they were headed?”

The shopkeeper raises her eyebrows. “The village men followed them toward the Hetaira River, not toward the academie. I don’t think you have anything to worry about, but I’d get home just the same.”

Beatrix gives her a respectful head tilt and joins me at the door. As we exit, I clutch her arm, trying to process how someone could kidnap a priestess. Nobody ever assaults their kind, or the Spirit-Fae Cathedral becomes involved.

“Should we still go?” I squeak.

“Molly said they took off toward the Hetaira River, so it’ll probably be okay to have one quick drink.”

Beatrix’s reassurance does little to calm my pounding heart as we approach the dimly lit inn. My hand rests on the hidden dagger in my cloak. I whisper, “Keep your head down and don’t make eye contact with anyone.”

We enter, the air stagnant and sour. Suspicious eyes follow us to the empty table. I sit with my back to the wall, viewing the entire room. Shadows pool in every corner, the dingy lanterns doing little to pierce the gloom.

The barmaid brings two cloudy mugs, slopping ale onto the already sticky tabletop. As I take a sip, the bitter liquid steadies my nerves, keeping me occupied. Beatrix drinks hers heartily while subtly gazing around.

“Vennisa would hate it here,” I say, looking at the commonfolk in their drab colors and rough linen fabrics.

A hint of pity sparks in Beatrix’s quick glance. “I hope she’s safe with all the upheaval and changes Balor Black has made.”

“Snakes always survive.”

Beatrix looks doubtful, and I immediately regret my words. I bite my lip, wondering how dangerous Alexandria has become with Balor on the throne.

In the corner, a gruff voice rises above the dull chatter. “Bartdom’s boys chased the damn wagon nearly ten miles before they lost the trail at the river. They said they’ve never seen horses gallop that fast.”

My pulse jumps.