13. Colt

Late in the morning, Rem came to their single-room lodging with new clothes for them to wear, as well as an ivory-colored envelope. "I have spoken with my foreman, Quinnby Kingsland," he told them. "He is in charge of Adelon Estates here."

"He's the bigwig that owns the manor in the city?" Brom perked up.

Rem nodded. "Yes, he owns the winery, Kingsland Gold. He will allow us access to the tunnels beneath his manor. They run for miles to the south and come out into the farmland."

"Right, how do we get there, then?" Colt asked.

"Mr. Kingsland's annual winter masquerade is tomorrow night. You are all invited, and afterward, Mr. Kingsland will take you down to the tunnels himself."

"A ball?" Gilda crossed her arms and furrowed her brow at him. "You must be kidding. We're on the run from the Legion and you want us to go to a ball?"

"This is the only option that Mr. Kingsland has offered. Rumors of your escape are circling the region, so he feels the ball is the most discreet way into his manor."

Gilda spread her arms out, palms up at her sides in a gesture to her clothing. "What would we wear to such a thing? You brought us nice clothes for a brisk walk, but we wouldn't exactly blend in with the ballroom crowd."

Rem held out a small coin pouch and placed it on the table. "Mr. Kingsland sets aside a small amount for those who use his tunnels. In exchange, you will agree not to let its location be known."

"We won't," Owen said. "But you've already done so much for us. I'm not sure we can take the money."

"Of course we can," Brom broke in, chuckling lightly before pocketing the coin pouch. Seeing the looks from his companions, he cleared his throat and said formally, "We very much appreciate it."

Rem nodded. "I suggest that if you go out for supplies, to do so separately, and in the new clothes. You should be able to find something for the amount given. I advise you to have your bags ready. You will take only what you can carry into the catacombs. I will have someone come and pick them up for you." Rem bowed his head before he placed the envelope on the table. "Those are your invitations. They will be collected at the gate of the manor tomorrow night. I will see you there." He left swiftly.

On the table, the envelope sat sealed in red wax with two words etched onto it: Kingsland Gold. Owen picked up the envelope and opened it as Gilda and Brom crowded around him. Inside were two formally written invitations, just as Rem described. Gold embossing decorated the crisp paper edges, and the words were written out in cursive, the black ink smooth and perfect.

Clearing his throat, Colt made his way to the window with his pipe, eager to let the rest of them read the fancy invitation instead.

Brom peered at it over Owen's shoulder and read aloud, "Quinnby Kingsland of Adelon Estates welcomes you to his fourth annual winter masquerade ball." He squinted at the invite. "Each invitation is good for the holder and one other. By the gods, I never expected something like this."

Colt sighed as he opened the window and struck up his pipe. "This is risky," he muttered.

"Rem said we should be able to blend in," Owen said. "There's no reason we shouldn't go if no one will suspect us."

"Who says they won't?" Colt cocked his head as he puffed off his pipe. He blew the smoke out the window and went on, "You heard Rem, word of us has already spread down this way."

"And besides that, we're expected to gather our own supplies and hope no one notices us and then go to a party?" Gilda pointed out.

Brom shrugged. "What's the harm? It gives us time to rest. It's a masquerade, so we can wear masks. And it sounds fun."

"Fun!" Gilda's eyes widened. "Yes, we'll have a grand time until we're spotted by the Legion and thrown into a dungeon. Rem spared us some coin, but I doubt it'll be enough to buy us nice enough clothes to wear for a ball." She looked down at her trousers. "We'll be spotted in no time."

Brom smiled and looked down at his own worn, faded clothing.

"Seems we have no choice if we want Rem to keep being our guide. We'll have to improvise a bit." Colt scratched his stubbly neck, hoping for a shave soon. "Is there something you can make us?"

"Yes, I'll sew up four bags to put over our heads!" Gilda glared at him. Then her face softened, and Colt was surprised when she said, "Actually, we do have some supplies to make masks."

They all looked at one another, their brows raised in surprise.

"We do?" Owen asked.

"Yes. Brom has the flour in our food supplies, and if you can spare some parchment, I know how to combine them."

Brom chuckled. "Maybe you'd like to whip up some clothes last minute too?"

Gilda stood promptly, her chin raised. "I'm no miracle worker. I can make masks, not clothes."

They watched as she hoisted a bag of flour over to the table, then held her hand out to Owen, who carefully ripped a few pages out of the back of the journal Colt had gifted him and handed them to her. Colt narrowed his eyes, his pipe frozen midair watching as she began tearing the parchment into thin strips. After, she took the washing basin in the corner of the room and began pouring the flour in. She stirred it with a spoon until it was nothing more than a gloppy mess.

"Isn't this what children do for crafts?" Brom asked.

Gilda whipped her head up. "Do you want a mask or not?"

"Alright, fine." He put his hands up in defeat.

"Now I need someone's face for a mold." She looked at each of her companions expectantly.

Colt took one glance at her before he shook his head. "You're not putting that muck on my hairy face."

"I'll do it," Owen said reluctantly.

"Well, this should be entertaining," Brom muttered.

When Colt snickered, Owen pointed at him with an adorably stern look. "I don't want to hear any jokes about this. Let's just get it over with."

"Right, well, while you two do… this, me and Brom will check out the town," Colt said. "See what the rumors are and scope out any Legion soldiers or Wielders that may be around." He put his pipe on the windowsill and changed his clothes into the ones Rem had given them, as did Brom.

As Gilda turned her back to them and had Owen sit in a chair to start the mold, Colt pulled on fine dark trousers and a white, long sleeve shirt that had a long piece of fluffy fabric that ran along his chest. He pulled a dark vest over his shirt, then grabbed his fur-lined coat.

"Brom, let's go," he said.

"This vest is a little tight," Brom said, tugging hard on the striped fabric to try and button it. He was much broader around the chest than Colt was, and more muscular at that.

"Just leave it off. We'll find another."

Brom perked up at that and made his way to the door.

"Rem told us to leave the room separately," Owen told him.

"Yeah, we are. Me and Brom, separating from you two." When he caught Owen's sour expression, Colt sighed and said, "We'll be careful, Owen. I'll take your scarf and put it around me." He wound the green scarf around his neck. "We'll see you two in a bit." He let his eyes linger on Owen briefly as he crossed the room, his heart tugging at those pouty lips and dark eyes glaring at him as if he was upset for being left behind to make crafts.

Colt smiled to himself as he stepped outside with Brom.

They made their way up the road to Coopersburgh, and when they got to the gate, two guards eyed them before patting them both down and sending them inside.

"Stay out of trouble," one guard called after them.

Colt fought the instinct to say something crude as he made his way along.

"So, are we really scoping the place, or are we looking for fancy clothes?" Brom asked.

"I don't know, I just didn't want to be part of the crafts," Colt said, shrugging, and Brom laughed.

They continued walking, and Colt watched the townspeople. Everyone was dressed nicely in Coopersburgh. There wasn't an alley open for any tramps to linger either, as they were all blocked off by fences.

It was a polished place, with clean buildings and tidy trees. There wasn't a leaf in the street, and a fountain sprayed water in the main square. There weren't many people out, and there were no market stalls, only stores.

I never want to live in someplace like this.

"I don't see any Legion guards," Brom said, his voice low. "Only regional. Maybe they"re preoccupied with the quakes, like Rem said."

"Alright. Just keep an eye out for any emblems of Cores, and also bounty posters." Colt made his way to the barber, where several men waited in line for haircuts and shaves. As soon as he saw the prices painted on the window, he turned away.

Looks like I'm not getting a shave today.

"We can check the general store," Brom said. "Surely they have some things we can use."

Upon entering the store, the man at the front greeted them, then eyed them as they looked around.

Colt perused over several fanciful items on the shop counter, until he found a bracelet with a small brass charm of a honeybee clasped to its leather. It was interesting, and it reminded him of Owen, with how much he liked honey. With the winter solstice coming up soon, it would be a good gift to give him. He had his shark tooth necklace already. This would complement it nicely. He found a few candies as well, then he looked around until he found the razors for sale at the front.

"I'll take your cheapest one, and the sandalwood powder," Colt told the merchant.

"I have a set here," the man said, picking up a small box. He opened it to reveal a small brush and container of powder.

"That'll work." Colt looked back to see Brom had nothing to buy, so he paid for his things and left.

When he came out, Brom shook his head as they walked back through the square.

"What?" Colt asked.

"You, buying things for Owen as if you have the money to spare."

Colt looked down as he held his bag. "It's not like that…"

"I've noticed you both cuddling in the mornings every time we get a room."

"Right, well, it's cold and all, you know."

"I already know you're sweet on each other. You don't have to pretend."

Clearing his throat, Colt said as casually as he could, "Right… fine, then I hope you don't mind our cuddling in the mornings after all."

Brom chuckled. "Honestly, I'm just glad you have each other."

Colt smiled to himself, glad for Brom's casual acceptance.

Brom returned to the subject at hand. "So, about these clothes we need to get? I saw dresses on display in one of the windows. Just one would eat up all our coin."

"Then we're going to have to think of something else."

"What did you have in mind?"

As they came out of Coopersburgh, Colt spotted a caravan in the distance and curled an eyebrow.