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Nikolai enjoyed my company, if only because I was someone other than the two people he seemed to have spent his entire life with. Entirelifetimesfor all I knew.
By the fifth day, we reached a village too small to have a name. There wasn’t much to the town besides a large farm where most of the men and the Halflings worked. The sprinkling of houses was worn, shingles missing from roofs, and cracked panes of glass served as windows. Not that it mattered, since the windows were so thickly caked in dust, they’d stopped being windows long ago.
Riven and I left the others to set up camp. We would resupply the bags with enough food for the rest of our journey to Cereliath. I insisted on going because I wanted to check on a small refuge Victoria had set up in the village a few years before. Riven insisted on coming to watch over me.
We walked in silence from the small grove of trees where Syrra and Nikolai would ready the camp. It was a long walk into the village, but our horses needed rest more than we did. Riven stalked behind my intentional, slow pace. I could feel him growing more annoyed with each step. I smirked. If he was intent on making my journey miserable, we could both play that game.
We found the market soon enough, a collection of merchant carts lining the only street. I purchased vegetables that were already limp, and Riven bartered with a butcher over his lack of stock. I pretended to be distracted by a jeweler cart while they argued.
One of the other merchants told Riven the tavern had cured meats and would be willing to sell them for the right price. Riven gave the middle-aged woman a terse nod from under his hood and marched toward the tavern door.
I took the opportunity and fled down the street to where Victoria had told me the refuge was.
It wasn’t much. In fact, if I hadn’t known it was there, I might have missed it entirely. The shack leaned against the building beside it. Scrap wood and stained linens constructed the roof. Through the summer months it would’ve been enough to protect visitors from the suns, but there would be no way to keep in heat come winter.
The rose imprinted on the stone pathway was chipped and so weather-beaten that no one outside of our underground service would even recognize it as a refuge. Probably for the best. I walked through a gap in the wall which I assumed once held a door. There was no floor, just hard-packed earth, and a small stove in the corner circled by four chairs.
No beds. No food.
Someone sat in one of the chairs, her toes pointing toward the flame of the oven. Her long, curved ears poked out from her white hair, so thin I could see the pink flesh of her scalp. She craned her neck when I moved through the door. Her eyes were heavy-lidded and framed by wrinkles so deep they looked like scars. Perhaps they were.
“Hello,” I said cautiously, unsure if she could hear me. “I’m looking for the keeper of this house.”
The Halfling didn’t say anything. She nodded slowly without raising her head and reached for the cane leaning beside her chair. I thought for a moment she would try to stand up, legs buckling under the weight of her, but all she did was shake the cane.
A bell tied to the bottom of it rung. Soft, but distinctive amidst the dust and emptiness of the village.
Someone popped out from behind the shack, red hair pinned back against her head. She was younger, possibly even Mortal, her pale skin red along the bridge of her nose. Like the pale Mortals who flushed after too long in the suns.
“Wrae? What is—” She stopped, noticing me in the room. “Can I help you?” she asked, standing straight. Her eyes darted to the doorway behind me.
“I’m looking for the keeper of this house,” I said again.
“You found her,” she answered slowly, raising the basket of clean linen higher on her hip.
I smiled and flashed her the rose pendant I kept hidden under my tunic. She glanced at it and instantly relaxed.
“Oh, good,” she whispered in relief. “I thought you were one of those Shades for a minute.”
“Have they been here?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said. “Though they were only passing through. I don’t think they were looking for Halflings.”
Gerarda would’ve taken this road back to the capital.
I tried to keep my tone light. “How long ago was that?”
“Six days, I think.” She placed the basket down on the chair and began folding. “They didn’t do much. Spent a night at the inn, ate some food, before heading back to the city.”
“Cereliath?”
“Aye,” she said.
“How many?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“Four,” the woman said. I nodded. Gerarda must’ve been at the inn waiting for the Shades to refill their stores.
I looked back at the Halfling, Wrae. She was asleep in her chair, her head bobbing against her chest as she wheezed.
