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Why would anyone risk angering the Goddess when there are many theories on the loss of magic? Many of them implied that it was our own fault for misusing the elements during the war. That made sense to me. The Goddess stopped communicating with us around the same time. Fewer Spirit Users were born each year until they were practically extinct, so no one knew for sure.
King Maliki created a new sanctuary inside the castle walls for the few remaining Elders after this one was destroyed. Still, the Goddess was quiet. To this day, the minimal Spirit Users in the land still reside at the capital temple, and still, no one can communicate with her.
Aiden’s safe house was a supply shed on the edge of the ruins, appearing old enough to have survived the destruction. It was built deep in the woods and completely covered in mature vegetation. I would not have seen it without assistance.
Aiden gestured for me to proceed with him into the shed after Elijah, E.Z., and Griffin made themselves at home. Elijah lit a fire in the fireplace, taking the chill from the air— which I was grateful for. Griffin was walking around cracking the shutters on glassless windows, letting in the cool spring night air, defeating the purpose of the fire entirely.
“I like the air,” he grumbled, then propped himself in the room's far corner. Facing us with his arms crossed, he seemed to beg anyone to contradict him.
No one did. Something could be said about sitting near a fire while a cool breeze caresses your face. Plus, Griffin was giving off some negative vibes over there. I personally wouldn’t have dared contradict him in that mood.
E.Z. walked over to a small wooden table beside a pallet bed covered in fresh straw. Dropping his saddlebags on top, he plopped onto one of two chairs with no finesse. The chair groaned and creaked under his weight.
“Ugh, you’d think I’d be sick of sitting, especially since my ass hurts fiercely. But I’m exhausted.” Leaning back, he slid down the seat and spread his long legs. His feet reached the center of the room. Sighing, he rested his bent elbow on the scarred tabletop and held his head in his hand. “You guys didn’t feed me enough. How am I supposed to have enough energy to live? I have to pee.”
E.Z. popped back up and raced to the door, showing no signs of exhaustion. He pushed a shocked Aiden in his haste to exit.
The door banged shut behind him. Elijah’s heavy sigh was loud in the silence that followed.
I spun to take in my surroundings. The shed must have been cleaned out to make a livable space. The fireplace, showing none of the age of the rest of the cabin, had been added in the back corner. Above it hung a large pot suspended over a grill. Shelves were built and filled with canned food, preserves, and water stores. The floors might be the original rough, stained, beat-up wood, but they had been swept recently.
If we hadn’t passed a lot of shoe and horse tracks along the way, I would have gladly hidden out here. It was small but would be more comfortable than sleeping on the forest floor in any capacity and was clearly well stocked for a while. Then I reminded myself these woods could have people worse than what was pursuing me. I needed to settle somewhere safe and remote. The king would eventually forget about me, and I could try to live a normal life.
“I loaded it with the supplies you requested, Ash,” Aiden said, indicating the shelves and the stores piled high in the corner.
Elijah glanced at the pile but, otherwise, didn’t indicate he’d heard Aiden.
This would have taken time to prepare. It was well stocked and meticulously organized. There’s no way Aiden did this on his own in what could be no more than three to four days' notice, assuming Liam and Elijah had started planning as soon as I was captured. That didn’t seem likely. It was more likely he had kept this place stocked and maintained for some time, adding in small things Elijah had requested.
What would Aiden need a safe house for? What if thieves found it? They were everywhere. What if some of the more far-fetched, dangerous rumors were true? Maybe Aiden wasn’t scared of the forest because he was the leader of the most terrible people, and they knew this was his home.
“What is this place?” I asked. “Does anyone live here?”
“It is one of my safe houses." Aiden didn’t grace me with his dimple, just a tilt of one side of his lips as he laid his saddle bags inside the door and shut it. "I stay here sometimes but live down south, in Water Region.”
The door immediately flew back open, hitting Aiden in the back as he walked away. E.Z. slammed the door and rushed back to his original position. “Sorry, Aiden, I didn't see you,” he teased. "You were just too small,” he joked as he resumed making himself one with the chair, all energy apparently spent again.
I couldn’t help but gape as Aiden just stood there gathering himself for a moment. An outrageous burst of laughter left E.Z. a moment later, like he finally got the punchline to a joke only he had heard. Or he was significantly delayed in laughing at his own earlier joke.
“Jackass,” Griffin grunted, shifting against the wall.
This was the Griffin I knew. He usually looked so unapproachable and angry that people steered clear, which seemed to be how he liked it. The kind, friendly act was not his norm.
“Okay, so is this where I get to ask questions? Or will you give me more excuses as to why it’s not the time? Just so I know whether to get settled or just leave now,” I asked Elijah.
“Uggghhh.” E.Z. let out the most prolonged groan imaginable. “I can’t possibly have this conversation on an empty stomach.”
“Shut up, E.Z.,” Elijah demanded. “You can eat while we talk if you must, but please, shut up.”
E.Z. grinned like a fool, clearly alright with that decision, then ran over and started to tear through the supplies like he hadn’t eaten in weeks instead of hours.
Elijah rubbed his hand down his face, shaking his head in irritation before walking over to the pallet bed and sitting on the edge facing the table.
Aiden walked over to the one other chair at the table and positioned it facing Elijah. He indicated I should sit before sitting down next to Elijah— who immediately scooted over as close as possible to the other side and rested his elbows on his knees.
I sat and wrung my hands.
I tried to identify the most essential issues to prepare for the conversation. I hoped they would be forthcoming, so I didn’t have to turn it into an investigation. I was not waiting any longer for answers. Unfortunately, there was so much I didn’t know, and my mind was not working properly. How did they expect me to think, let alone talk, while they all stared at me?
