The dim hallway was eerily quiet in the morning, the constant hum of the tavern below gone until the evening when the festivities would start all over again. The feeling was familiar: waking up to a quiet house, doing chores and preparing for the night to come in Mother’s tavern. Being in the inn filled her with a warm feeling of nostalgia, and a little bit of emptiness. Perhaps the elf chose this establishment for a reason. She smiled at the thought, but shook her head to chase it from her mind.
With freshly cleaned clothes, she meandered down the hall, her waist free of the dagger. She decided against taking it. Didn’t want to scare people away, especially if she wanted to ask them questions. Although, it could be quite the persuasive tool— even if she wasn’t quite so sure how to use it yet. She ran her fingers through her hair and mulled on the thought before dismissing it.
Her joints were stiff. The lumpy bed proved to be not much better than the ground outside, but at least there were no bugs. That she knew of. In fact, she’d rather not know.
She descended the rickety steps, each one seemed to groan under her weight. Sunlight exposed the lifeless tavern. Everything looked more worn and old in the bright light, the paint cracked and the dust piled in the nooks and crannies, all invisible in the warm glow of oil lamps and candles. Farron sat at one of the small wooden tables by himself, his back to the stairs, devoid of his weaponry. The only other people in the room were a few workers preparing for the onslaught of people in the evening. The distant cling of metal-ware and dishes being washed sounded in the distance.
Claire approached Farron. He was hunched over, his elbows rested on the table to prop up his head.
“Hangover?” she asked, causing him to stir.
“No.” He rose to face her and leaned back against the table. His face showed signs of fatigue. “Aeron kept me up all night. Get a little alcohol in him and he really won’t shut up.”
“Where is he?”
“He said he had some errands to do.” Farron shrugged. “It’s my turn to babysit today.”
“You don’t have to sound so excited.” She put her hands on her hips. “So, what’s the plan?”
“You tell me. You’re the one asking the questions. It’s my job to just stand in the back and look menacing.” He glanced down at her exposed right arm but said nothing.
“I don’t even know where to begin.”
“Only one way to find out.” He grabbed her by the arm and led her through the door and out onto the street. He dug a coin out of his pocket; the silver glinted in the sunlight. “Alright, we’ll flip for it.”
“Is this how you make your decisions?” She put her hands on her hips again.
“Just the important ones.” He smirked and threw the coin up in the air. He caught it, slammed it on top of his other hand and hid it with his palm. “Call it.”
“I don’t even know what kind of coin you used. Who knows what kind of stuff you elves have on your money?”
“A tree and a king’s head.”
“Which king?”
“Just pick one.”
“Fine, tree we go left,” she said. He lifted his hand up. Tree. “I can’t believe you don’t know your kings.”
“Do you?” He pocketed the coin and looked down at her, eyebrow cocked expectantly.
“I don’t have a king.” She stuck her chin up and began walking down the street.
She couldn’t believe Aeron had abandoned her. Now she was stuck with Farron for the whole day. She looked back at the elf trailing close behind. He was sure to attract unnecessary attention. All black clothing topped with platinum blonde hair. Maybe she could convince him to buy a scarf.
“Well, don’t just be a creepy follower, come on.” She motioned for him to walk next to her. It was a great opportunity for bonding time. She almost laughed at the unlikely prospect. In any case, it would make her feel better not to have such an intimidating shadow.
Few people wandered down the cobblestone street in the morning. Most of the businesses that lined it would open later in the evening.
Farron strolled next to her and he eyed her right arm again. “No bandage, I see.”
“It was itchy.” She continued walking, looking straight ahead.
“We can search for something more suitable if you’d like.”
Claire sighed. “Does it really matter? I mean, we don’t even know what this is.” She held her arm out in front of her. “What are the chances any of these people know? If anyone asks, I’ll just tell them it’s a tattoo or something. You know us crazy people from the north.”
Farron frowned. He seemed a little displeased.
“You’re too paranoid,” she said, though after last night she could hardly blame him.
“And you’re not careful enough.”
Two blocks down and three streets over was another bustling marketplace. Filled to the brim with colorful stalls and people, but devoid of the answers and the truth she was seeking. What was going on? Someone in this town had to know something. How could an event so terrible not be big news? Not a single warning about rampaging centaurs had reached these people.
She turned to Farron but he was a few stalls away from her, haggling with an old shop owner. With arms crossed, she waited as he meandered in her direction with a small brown bag in his hands.
“You’re much help,” she mumbled.
He picked out a little ball, fried to a nice crisp golden brown, popped it in his mouth and held the bag out to her.
“What are they?” She peered into it.
“Lewts, I think they’re called. I haven’t had them in years.”
She looked up at him and waited for more explanation.
“You know, the little fried balls of bread. They’re dipped in some sort of spices.” He waited for her to pick one out. “Just try one, they’re good.”
Carefully, she picked a ball out of the bag with her fingers and popped it into her mouth. It was crunchy and salty, followed by a hot, spicy aftertaste. Her face twisted in disgust. A warning would have been nice.
He chuckled at her reaction. “That bad, huh?”
“You have surprisingly bad taste.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “More for me then.”
It was the first time she’d seen the elf so relaxed. The usual tension faded away as the day went on. Perhaps being around Aeron really was stressful for him. It was for her at times, as well. Nobody could be that happy all the time.
“I need a break.” The constant disappointment was tiring. She walked along the street and looked around at the different stalls and their wares.
“Me too.”
Claire spun around. “You need a break?” She could feel the annoyance rise in the pit of her stomach. “All you did was stand there!”
“Oh, you think it’s easy to look tough and intimidating?” he said with a sly smile and a dash of arrogance.
She crossed her arms and looked up at him, eyebrow cocked. For him it was easy, especially after seeing him last night. The way he handled those men, it was just a tad bit scary. But that didn’t mean he didn’t have to help.
“Alright, let’s see you try then.” He motioned with his arms.
“Fine.” Claire took a deep breath and straightened her back, her chin held high. She glared up at the elf, summoning her darkest thoughts, and hoped the threat would show in her eyes. Mother had mastered the look, sometimes making grown men cry, albeit mostly drunk men, but still grown men.
The elf stared back at her with a blank expression, then popped another brown ball into his mouth. “I’m shaking in my boots.” He brushed past her and started to walk down the street.
“Hey!” She stormed after him. He continued walking and ate another lewt. “Don’t just walk away!”
“I’m afraid you don’t need my services anymore.”
“I was scary, damn it!”
He turned and looked her up and down. “You couldn’t be scary if your life depended on it.”
“I can too! What a
re you trying to say here?” She stopped. Her hands were angry balls of fury at her sides. She may not have been able to stop the bear man, but she didn’t really get a chance to either. At least that’s what she kept repeating to herself. The man could have easily squished her between his meaty thumb and forefinger.
A smirk washed over his face. “My lady, you are just too easy.”
Her mouth dropped open. It was all a ruse. “You’re not funny.”
“You get riled up so easily, I couldn’t help myself.” His expression faded into a more serious one. “You’re still not scary, though.”
“Fine.” She shoved past him. “I’ll scare you someday, just you wait.”
“I won’t hold my breath.” He caught up with her.
“You could at least help me ask questions.”
“I really don’t think anyone here would talk to me.”
Claire glanced at the surrounding people. They shot glances at the tall elf, and they weren’t exactly friendly. She looked up at Farron, but he seemed unfazed. He was probably used to it by now. And at least none of them did anything. A look couldn’t kill, unless it was one of her mother’s…
“I guess you’re right.” She took a deep breath and released it. No luck today either. “Why do you wear all black anyway?” she asked. Another color palette could do wonders for his complexion. And for the way people saw him.
He looked down at her; the question seemed to catch him off guard. “To keep people away. Trust me, if you look like I do, you’re bound to attract attention, and most of it is unwelcome.”
Wasn’t that the truth. “So, you want to look mean and intimidating?”
“I prefer dark and mysterious.”
Claire flushed. Had he heard her last night? With a shake of her head, she dismissed the ridiculous notion. Surely the elves’ hearing couldn’t be that good.
She stopped at a stall with various objects made of pewter scattered across a worn red tablecloth. Claire picked up a miniature jewelry box with little intricate flowers molded along the top and sides. Farron picked up a mug and started to examine it while he talked with the short man behind the table. She put the box back and wandered around the corner where he had another table set up.
A brooch caught her eye. It was in the shape of a snake and its eyes sparkled with rubies, just like her mother’s bracelet. She picked it up to examine it closer. How odd it was to find something so similar.
“Psst.”
Claire jumped at the sudden sound, and dropped the brooch on the table, her heart racing. A man stood in an alleyway behind the booth, his face cloaked in shadow under a gray hood. He took a step in her direction, maneuvering around a wooden crate to do so. Already she could feel Farron’s presence close behind her. That was quick. If their sham were actually true, he’d be well worth the money.
“Are you the ones searching for survivors?” The man’s voice was hoarse and deep.
“Depends on who’s asking.” Farron gripped her shoulder and pulled her slightly back from the mysterious man.
“How ‘bout a survivor?” He dropped the hood to reveal a middle-aged face, tan from years in the sun and hard labor, his dark hair slowly being overtaken by gray. “Follow me.” He turned and hurried down the alley.
“Wait!” Claire turned back to Farron. “What do you think?”
“Best lead we’ve gotten all day. Might as well.” He started to walk down the alley.
“What happened to not being careful enough?”
“Only applies when you’re unarmed, of course.”
“You’re armed?” Her eyes widened in surprise.
He grinned before he turned.
Where was he hiding weapons? She looked him up and down before following him down the narrow passage. They turned a corner into another alley with a dead end. There the man waited for them as he leaned against the wall in the shadows. Farron walked in front of her as they approached like the good bodyguard he was.
“Do I know you?” she asked as she stepped out from behind the tall elf.
“No, but I think we might have somethin’ in common.” He glanced down the alley. “You’re town was attacked, yeah?”
Claire’s pulse quickened. “Yes, by centaurs.”
The man nodded. “Seems like there have been attacks all across the region. Small towns and villages attacked out of the blue.”
“And what about the survivors?” She rushed up to the man and grabbed his shirt. She looked up at him, her eyes raw and urgent, desperate for any type of information.
“That’s the strange part.” The man peered down at her with a dark, wild expression. “It’s like the survivors just vanished into thin air. The night my village was attacked, I was separated from my wife and son. Been searching the surrounding towns and kept gettin’ the same answer. Like the whole thing never happened. I tried to go back to my village, but those beasts leave lookouts.” He gripped her wrists and tried to pry her hands from his shirt. “I’ve seen men, however, stationed outside the towns. They looked like some sort of patrol or small army.”
“Do you know who they were?” Farron asked, his voice sharp as a knife.
The man shook his head. Claire loosened her grip on his worn gray shirt. It looked like it hadn’t been washed in weeks, stained and rough with rips and tears all over.
“Didn’t recognize the colors or uniform they wore. It’s strange, if you ask me.” His eyes narrowed. “It was as if they were followin’ the beasts. Waitin’ like vultures in the woods to pick at the rottin’ carcasses.”
“Why?” Claire asked. “Didn’t they help?”
The man shook his head. “Don’t know. Was too afraid to ask.”
“Too afraid!” She grabbed his shirt again and pulled herself close to the older man.
“Claire!” Farron gripped her shoulder and pulled her back.
“I’d like to see you try strollin’ up to a strange army and come out with your skin intact. For all I know they could be the ones behind it all.” He paused and glanced down the alley again. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to just above a whisper. “Somethin’ fishy is goin’ on. I found a small band of survivors here. We’re tryin’ to get to the bottom of it.” A loud clang echoed through the alley and the man jumped. “You should join us if you can.” He eyed the elf before he took off.
“Wait!” Claire started to chase after the man. He hadn’t told her how to find him or the other survivors. Farron grabbed her by the arm and she spun around. “What are you doing? Let go!” She struggled to free her wrist from his grip, but it was too late. When she turned back, she could only watch as the man vanished around the corner.
“We should get back to the inn.” His voice was calm but his eyes were worried. Something had spooked him. “He told us all he was going to anyway.” He released her arm and started to walk down the alley. “Stay close.”
Claire hurried after him. They finally had a breakthrough, but she wasn’t sure she liked what she heard.
Aeron sat at the bar. A few people had started to trickle in. The main room was quiet, filled only with the murmur of the small group of people; the musicians probably wouldn’t start until later in the evening. Farron headed straight for Aeron as soon as they walked in the door. He had been mostly quiet on the way back to the inn, his pace hurried, and Claire struggled to keep up.
“Welcome!” Aeron spun around on his bar stool and raised his mug in the air. “I trust you two had a fine day?” His smile was broad and a little mocking.
She guessed that he never saw the relaxed side of Farron. He thought that Farron had been sulking all day, and based on the expression the silver-haired elf wore at the moment, she couldn’t blame him.
Aeron looked between the two of them when neither of them spoke. “So, how did it go?”
“I’m afraid the situation is worse than I thought. We need to talk.”
“Alright.” Aeron remained on the barstool and waited for Farron to start.
“In private
.”
“Oh.” Aeron’s face sobered up. He set his mug down on the bar and left a few coins.
Claire followed the elves up the stairs and down the first hallway to their room. Aeron opened the door with the key. The room looked the same as hers, only slightly bigger. A strange feeling of relief washed over her when she saw the two little beds. For some reason she had imagined them trying to squeeze into a single bed. They would kill each other before that ever happened. Farron’s daggers leaned against the far wall under a tiny window, his bow propped up next to them in a neat, orderly fashion. Aeron’s arms were sprawled out across the bed in front of her in a haphazard way.
She sat on the foot of the closest bed and listened carefully as Farron told Aeron about the mysterious man. Aeron listened with crossed arms, his face serious, until the tale was done. He stood quiet for a moment as he considered the information and then he started to speak and it took her a second to realize it was in another language.
Claire glanced between the two. Their conversation grew more and more heated and neither of them looked very happy. She had no idea what they were saying when they talked in their Elvin language. It was as if she wasn’t even in the room. Aeron raised his voice at Farron. A whole different side of him rose to the surface; his usual happy face replaced with one of anger. She hadn’t thought he was capable of the emotion.
Farron just stood there, face unreadable. The conversation had taken a turn for the worse and she’d had enough.
“So I can understand, please!” she finally snapped. The tension in the room had become suffocating. They both looked at her as if they just realized that she was still there.
Aeron gathered himself up a little. She could tell he was embarrassed that she saw this side of him. “Then what do you propose we do?” He glared at Farron. The look sent shivers down Claire’s spine, and she wasn’t even the recipient of it.
“Continue on with our little charade.” He took a deep breath and rested his hands on his hips. “If we run now, we’ll have the whole Lendonian army after us. We’ll go to the ball as planned.”
The elves stared at each other for a few moments. Then Aeron smiled, the familiar look slipping into place. He glanced at Claire, then back to the silver-haired elf. “You’re too soft, my friend.” He patted Farron on the shoulder and strolled out the door.
Farron collapsed on the other bed and leaned forward, elbows resting on knees. He took a long breath. Claire remained seated, not knowing what to say or what really happened.
“Somehow, I imagined that being the other way around,” she said.
Farron gave her a knowing look. “He didn’t rise to such a high rank on his good looks.”
“But I thought you said he was a fool?”
“There’s more to that fool than meets the eye.”
Had she gotten Aeron all wrong? She figured he had gotten his rank due to some sort of fluke, or blackmail. Maybe there really was more to him than she’d originally thought.
“What’s going on? I’m tired of always being left in the dark.”
He looked up at her and glanced away. “Claire,” He took a deep breath and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “I don’t think these are a series of simple attacks. We can’t rule out the possibility that Lendon is involved somehow.”
“But—”
Farron held up a hand. “I’m not saying they are. It’s just a suspicion right now.”
“But why would Lendon do something like that?” She sat unmoving on the bed, her mind racing with questions.
“There are many reasons why they would; let’s just make sure that you’re not one of them.” His gaze held hers steadily.
She was still for a moment before she looked down at the mark on her right hand. If the elves wanted her for something, then that could mean others might want her as well. And that was more than a little unsettling.
Claire remained silent as she mulled over her thoughts. She didn’t like where this little adventure was going one bit. “So, what should I do?” She could feel her strength start to falter.
“I suggest you learn how to dance.”