CHAPTER 32

CHAPTER 32

AUREN

“It looks very good, mylady.”

Hojat gives me a cursory tap on my shoulder, letting me know I can sit up, since he already buttoned up the borrowed shirt along my spine.

“How much longer do you think I need to have the salves put on me?” I ask as I sit up, feeling only slight discomfort pull at my back.

“Not much longer, I think. You are healing quite fast.”

“On the outside, maybe,” I mutter. “Thank you, Hojat.”

He glances at me from the corner of his eye, and I can see him hesitating for a moment until he turns back around to face me, his leather satchel strung over his shoulder. “My lady, I have not known you very long, but I know you through your wounds, I think.”

I don’t know how to take that comment for a moment until he taps at his dragged down skin, the left side of his face like candle wax melted and then cooled, left there to droop. “People with scars, we know. We see. We understand.” He taps his wilted eye next. “There is hurt past this, yes?”

My mouth goes dry. “Yes.”

He nods, hand dropping down to hang at his side. “I can heal your body, my lady. But my tonics and salves won’t heal your mind, I’m afraid. It’s up to you to do that.”

“And did you do that? Heal your mind?”

A sad smile twists his already crooked mouth. “I like to think so, and I like to think that you will, too.” He holds out a dried lotus flower, its petals a vivid purple, surrounded by bright yellow middle strands that look like some sort of sea creature you’d find in the ocean. “To put beneath your pillow.”

Taking it, I flick my gaze back up to him. He’s been leaving peonies beneath my pillow, just like he did when he tended to me in the army. Back then, I remember him telling me that where he was from, it was good luck to put them beneath your pillow when you were ill.

And I remembered something similar.

Peonies for good health. A willow branch for luck. Cotton stems for prosperity. The fleshy leaf of a jade to bring harmony.

And a lotus for resilience.

I can’t believe I didn’t think more about this coincidence before. “Where did you say you learned this tradition?” I ask carefully.

“Ah,” he says, and something indecipherable glitters in his eyes. “This was passed down to me. I learned my trade from a very good healer.”

Healer. Not mender.

Mender is the Orean word for it. But healer...

“Are you... I mean, you can’t be, but…” I falter, eyes skimming over him like I haven’t seen him before. The way he’s never balked at my ribbons, at my power, at anything to do with Slade… “Where exactly are you from?”

“My accent does not give it away?” he teases with a tap on his nose. “I was born in Southern Orea. Though, I lived here for a while. Trained here.”

My brows lift. “Here? As in...”

“Drollard Village, yes. A bit colder than where I was raised,” he says with a smile that crinkles his scars.

Slade has told me very little about this place so far. I only know that it exists without actually existing. The strip of desolate land is all that he acquired when he decided not to declare war.

But why?

Why this place?

What’s so important here that he wanted to make it part of Fourth Kingdom when it was outside his territory?

Perhaps it’s just because of the rot. I’ve heard of how his power has surpassed his own territory and leached into Fifth. But I can’t help but feel like it’s more than that. Why keep an entire village hidden?

My mind spins with questions, but before I can ask Hojat anything else, he’s already leaving the room and shutting the door behind him. My eyes drop down to the lotus while barely-there memories try to stick to my mind. They’re nothing more than pieces of lint clinging with nothing but static.

A willow branch hanging from a bedpost. Peonies tied with a ribbon and tucked beneath my pillow. Waking with the crushed remnants, fingers brushing against the dried shards, the scent of them tucked into the fabric of my pillow.

Gently, I place the offering on the bed, feeling a wave of nostalgia wash over me, knotted curiosity tying down my limbs.

After making myself get up, I use the washroom and wash my hands before I comb back my hair to rid it of tangles, and tie it off in a simple braid that will work for training. But then I realize that I don’t have another clean pair of leggings in my closet. Slade was going to bring me more from his room, but he must’ve forgotten.

I hesitate for a moment, debating whether or not I should just head off to meet Judd for training, but I need to wear the thicker pants to help cushion against the splintered hay. So I push back my shoulders and leave the room, heading down the hallway until I get to the very last door at the end.

My fingers curl around the doorknob, but it takes several seconds before I gain the courage to actually turn it. When I do, I stop in the doorway, staring at the bed.

Gold covers the entire mattress, the whole of it spreading from headboard to foot, perhaps an inch thick where it’s pooled in the center, the liquid now frozen and still. I walk slowly over to it, staring down at my gilded reflection within.

Since Slade brought me to the cave a few days ago and I confessed everything that happened in Carnith, he’s backed off. Talking was good for both of us, but when it comes to my magic, I’m not ready. I want to concentrate on getting physically stronger first, and then I’ll feel like I’ll be able to tackle my gold.

Maybe he’s right. Maybe I am blocking my power. But in a way, it’s a relief. I’ve gone so many years with it dripping from me uncontrollably. If only I’d snapped sooner and grappled this kind of control, my life would have been so different. So maybe it’s selfish, but I’m not ready for this intermission to end. I’m not ready to unblock it.

Even now, looking down at this frozen pond on the bed, I don’t want to touch it, to connect with it. I want to be me without the gold-touch for just a little while longer.

I give myself one last long look at my reflection before I turn away, going into Slade’s closet where, thankfully, I find a pair of leggings to slip on. I don’t look at the bed again as I walk out. It’s only once I’ve shut the door behind me that I let out a shuddering breath.

“There you are,” Lu calls, walking up. “I was looking for you.”

“What for?”

She stops in front of me, dressed in her usual army leathers, and for once, her slippers are nowhere in sight. “Since it’s a nice night, I figured you might want to go out and walk around. You must be feeling cabin fever by now.”

A laugh escapes me. “I lived in a cage for ten years.”

“Oh. Right.” Lu shrugs. “Well, anyway, what do you say I take you into the pavilion where you can meet the villagers?”

I hesitate. So far, my only venture out of the Grotto has been when Slade took me to the other cave where we spoke. Between the house and training with Judd, I haven’t had any real reason to leave the cave, and I’ve felt protected here. Like the rest of the world can’t touch me. So long as I stay in here, I don’t have to face anything or anyone else yet.

“I can’t. I’m supposed to meet Judd for some training.”

“You’ve been working hard, you can skip tonight.”

I paste a forced smile on my face. “No, I’d better not. I don’t want to let Judd down.”

“Well, you get extra points for being a dependable student,” I hear Judd say right before he comes into view, rounding the corner from the living room with floppy mustard-colored hair and a grin. “I think it’ll be good for you to get out and walk around with Lu. Emphasis on the walk. You could really use the practice with that because you’re still a bit shit at it.”

“Ha ha,” I say dryly.

He gives me a playful wink.

“You want to come with us?” Lu asks as he comes nearer.

“Nope, you enjoy.”

She gives him a skeptical look. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Think about what?” he asks, sounding far too innocent for it to be real.

“If you go into my room while I’m gone, I’ll know.”

“Will you?” he counters, eyes glittering.

“Dammit, Judd, I didn’t steal the damned wine!”

“Mm-hmm,” he says, seeming completely unconvinced.

He nudges her in the arm as he walks by to head for his bedroom. “Have fun with Gildy Locks tonight. Drink some wine for me since I can’t because our barrel is missing.”

Lu rolls her eyes, and Judd disappears into his room before I can try to convince him that I want to train instead.

“So…” I whisper, glancing at Lu. “Did you steal the wine?”

She snorts. “Of course I did. Ready?”

“Umm…”

She arches a dark brow. “You don’t live in a cage anymore, Gildy. Gotta venture out sometime.”

She’s right. I know she is. I can’t hide inside forever. But what if I snap again? What if the fae beast in me wrenches out and I flood the village with gold, killing more innocent people?

“My power…”

“You’ve got this. And if you don’t, I’m sure I can distract you with my magic.”

My head tilts. “Does your magic work that way?”

“No idea. Let’s go.”

I can’t keep the hesitation out of my voice. “Okay.”

She tilts her head, motioning me forward, and I follow her into the living room. “Grab your coat,” she says, and I head for the peg, pulling the coat off and slipping it on. The heat of the fire is saturated through the fabric, enveloping me in its delicious warmth. “It’s not late yet, so the pavilion still has people around.”

I nod as I do up the last button and then slip on my boots.

Lu pulls up the hood over her shaved head. “Ready?”

“Is it too late to go train?”

She rolls her eyes and tugs me forward by the arm. “Come on, Gildy.”

Together, we head out of the house and go through the Grotto’s cave, and with every step, my heart pounds. All I keep thinking of is when Slade stepped in front of me, when I finally came back down from the rush of the power driving me and realized I’d killed people and flooded the room.

Outside, the night is bright, the moon full and shining against the snow, making everything seem to glow. Yet I find no comfort in it. The night used to give me reprieve. It used to be safe, marking the time where I didn’t have to worry about my magic and every single touch of my skin. But I can’t trust it now.

“You’ve got this,” Lu says, and I follow as she heads to the left, our steps crunching over a snowy pathway.

Stuffing my hands into my pockets, I feel for the ribbon, twining it around like threading fingers through a friend’s hand.

The air is stiff and icy, not a hint of a breeze, and every exhale I let out condenses into a cloud. I pull up my hood to try and keep the chill from clinging to my face and ears, but it seeps in anyway. Yet even though it’s freezing, there’s something therapeutic about breathing in fresh air. Only once you feed it into your lungs do you realize how stale you’ve been.

I take a moment to look around, head tilted up at the looming mountains. In the dark, they look crooked and notched, with cracks running through like some long-ago giant took an ax to them, blade chopping into the rock again and again.

We’re at the base of the smallest mountain, its form hunched like the stooped spine of someone bracing against the cold. Above us, the natural shelf near the base of the mountain continues, keeping our path hidden and shadowed, while meager clumps of trees pepper the slope.

“Look at you,” Lu says beside me. “You’re not leaking gold out of your ass or setting a rabid molten bird after your enemies, so I think you’re going to be okay.”

“Thanks,” I deadpan.

She gives me a grin and pats me on the shoulder. “Relax, Gildy. Look up at the sky and relax.”

My eyes lift. “Clouds are covering most of it, and this mountain’s shelf is doing the rest.”

“You know what I mean.”

“So...what now?” I ask.

“Now, I show you around,” she says, turning to face the other way, toward the larger mountain. “Back that way is the Perch—the timberwings’ roost. You see how that path winds a bit? You just follow that. You passed it when Rip took you to train the other day.”

“Are there a lot of timberwings here?” I ask, avoiding the training topic. The creatures are pretty rare and don’t live in the wild anymore. Monarchs are the only people in Orea that I’ve known to own them, using them for personal transport and war.

“We always have three here,” Lu explains. “But right now, we have more since our own are roosting.”

My brows lift. “You have your very own timberwing?”

“All the Wrath do. Why, you jealous?” she asks with a grin.

I suppress a shudder, remembering the way Queen Kaila’s beast snapped at me, its drooling, sharp fangs grinning at me from a stretched maw and wet feathers. “Nope. Definitely not.”

“Hey, they’re not so bad. Lots of people are afraid of them, but if you train them right, they’re big softies.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

She laughs and then points up further. “Past the Perch is the Mole. It’s one of our hidden lookouts where the guards keep watch.”

“Why is it called the Mole?”

“Because it looks like a growth on the side of the mountain. It’s a damn pain to get up there, too. Takes about a hundred rickety, slippery stairs, and then you’re stuck in a cramped post with only a tiny heat lantern and a lookout glass to keep you company.”

“Sounds cozy.”

Lu turns. “Come on. Down this way is where the villagers live. Their homes are all stacked together one after the other, beneath the mountain’s awning. Everything was built beneath it so that timberwings couldn’t spot anything from above,” she explains.

Just then, the houses come into view, each one only slightly different from the one beside it. They all look like they were carved right into the mountain, rock roofs slanted over them and wooden doors lathered in frost. Each door is just a few feet away from the other, most of which are grappling with vines that have crawled up the stone, some heavy with hardy-looking berries.

“These houses seem small.”

“It’s deceiving.”

We pass by the first few homes, tiny stone chimneys jutting up from the roofs and fanning out smoke. After a few more moments, the path that parallels the homes slopes down a bit, and I can see a large open space ahead where the base of the mountain is pushed in.

“That’s the pavilion,” Lu explains. “It’s where everyone hangs about when they’re sick of being in their houses, which right now, everyone is, since that blizzard lasted so long.”

The pavilion is half exposed, while the other half is tucked into the mountain’s belly. The rock overhang juts out quite a bit here, but there’s an orange glow of a large fire burning half beneath it. I can smell the meat cooking before I see it, but my eyes are locked onto all the villagers gathered around. Some of them are standing by the fire, some joined at tables beneath the overhang in the cave, most of them with a cup in their hands or food in their mouths. It reminds me a little of seeing Fourth’s army camp for the first time.

“It’s not much, but that’s basically the entirety of Drollard,” Lu tells me as we come to a stop beneath a trio of trees just outside the circular stone ground that’s laid out for the pavilion.

“Okay, let’s go get some food.”

I grimace. “Do I have to?”

“Yes. All you’re going to do is go over there, grab some meat, drink some wine, and meet some people.”

I shift on my feet, my stomach churning. “Meeting new people is rarely rewarding.”

She snorts. “Spoken like a true Wrath. Except for maybe Judd. He’s annoyingly friendly.” The ruby gem piercing above her lip glints as she turns toward me, her eyes taking me in. She can probably see the fear on my face, because she says, “What did I say, Gildy?”

I let out a breath. “I got this.”

“Damn right you do. Now let’s go.”