CHAPTER 33

CHAPTER 33

AUREN

It’s been an hour.

An hour of rooting myself against the cave where I’ve grown into a wallflower, not moving from this spot. Several feet away, the fire still burns brightly, though the meat that was cooking has been all but picked clean, nothing left but bones and the remnants of dripping fat that make the flames hiss and spark.

My gloved hands are still clutched around the wine cup that Lu shoved at me, though I’ve only taken a few sips. I want to have a clear head to make sure my magic doesn’t creep up and take me unawares. But I haven’t felt a thing.

Slowly, I’ve been able to relax. Yet that’s when I noticed that the people of Drollard are…odd.

It’s not the staring. I’m used to that. Plus, I think with a village this small, any new face would be cause for staring, whether they were gold or not.

As soon as I walked up with Lu, attention snapped to me. The people at the tables, the ones milling around the fire pit, more beneath the mountain’s overhang—they all turned to stare. There was even a terrible squeak from someone who was playing a small stringed instrument on his lap.

But with a few introductions from Lu, they seemed to relax, their overt stares changing to discreet flicks of their eyes. So it’s not the staring and the uneasiness around a stranger. It’s something else. Something I can’t quite put my finger on.

Lu and I are sharing a seat on part of the cave wall that juts out as the perfect bench. I’ve been content to sit back and watch, while Lu’s gone into more depth about pointing out little things about the village, probably just to fill the silence and make things less awkward.

“So, you feeling gold murdery yet?” she asks. “Have the urge to make gold start pissing down the walls?”

“Umm…no.”

“See? You’re doing great.”

With a snort, I shift my weight, trying to get a bit more comfortable, but a jagged edge of the mountain scrapes against one of my severed ends. I flinch up with a hiss, pain shooting down my spine.

“You alright?”

A shaky exhale leaves my lips. “Fine,” I grit out.

From my peripheral, I can see her dark brown eyes watching me, yet not with pity or concern. “It hurts?”

I give her an incredulous look, because of course it hurts. “Yes.”

She points right at my face, the gesture catching me off guard. “But that means you feel. That means you’re alive.” This isn’t the laid back, friendly Lu talking. This is Lu, the captain of Fourth’s army, addressing a soldier.

A hard swallow jostles my throat. “Only part of me,” I admit.

Twenty-four strips didn’t make it.

“That’s okay,” she says without a hint of doubt, a hard glint caught in the edges of her eyes. “Just make that the strongest part.”

My lips tip up, her words stabilizing my spine and making the pain dull slightly.

“That’s the plan.”

She knocks her cup against mine again. “Good fucking plan, Gildy. Best one you’ve ever had, I think.”

I think so too.

“Thanks, Lu.”

She doesn’t ask me for what. She knows.

Lu kicks a foot up in front of her, arm dangling over her knee, while my eyes dart around to the villagers once again. “Can I ask you something?” I ask.

“Go for it.”

Luckily, we’re far enough apart from people that I don’t think our voices will carry. “It’s… Something seems…off.”

She spares me a fleeting glance from the corner of her eye. “Was that a question?”

I blow out a frustrated breath. “I can’t explain it, but something just feels strange about the people here.”

I’m anticipating Lu rolling her eyes or making a joke or calling me out for my paranoid and very vague description, but she doesn’t. Instead, an indiscernible look crosses her face as she turns away and lets her head rest against the wall behind us. “Hmm.”

My brows crinkle together like paper. “Why do I get the impression that you’re not telling me something?”

“Probably because I’m not telling you something.”

Before I can demand some answers, she shakes her head. “It’s not my place.”

My lips press into a thin line. “Slade,” I say, not even really needing to ask.

“There’s a reason he needed to make sure Deadwell became part of his territory. There’s a reason Fourth’s outpost is right at the border, not far from here. There’s a reason that people might seem…off to you.”

Her reply only fills my head with more questions. Yet if there’s one thing I know about Lu, it’s that she’s incredibly loyal to Slade. If she says it’s not her story to tell, then I wouldn’t be able to pry it from her no matter what I said.

“It seems Slade and I still have a list of things to talk about.”

“Yeah, he likes to be dramatic about being the whole brooding, silent type. It’s become his whole personality.”

A laugh escapes me, and I shake my head, looking around again. A few of the villagers said hello to Lu when we first came over, another passing us food, but for the most part, they’ve been content to leave us be. I was glad about that at first, but now, I’m wondering why exactly that is.

“How often do you come here?”

She lifts a shoulder. “Not that often. Just when we need to stop in and talk to Ryatt or help bring in some more supplies, or sometimes I come here with Rip so he can…do what he needs to do.”

I don’t miss that vague answer. “And how many people live here?” I ask. “I didn’t see that many houses.”

“There are thirty-two,” she tells me. “Not counting the Grotto. And inside those houses lives fifty-seven people.”

“Fifty-seven? I’ve been to saddle parties that had more participants.”

She snorts.

“With an environment as harsh and closed-off as this place, I suppose it makes sense that it’s not exactly a bustling population,” I say. “But Hojat mentioned he came to live here. How did that happen?” I press. “How did any of these people end up in a place that doesn’t exist?”

Lu gives me a long look, taking a sip of her drink instead of answering.

I sigh. “Yeah, yeah. It’s not your place.”

“You catch on quick.”

“So pretty much everyone is here tonight,” I muse, looking around again.

“Seems like it.”

“I don’t see any children,” I note.

“There’s one—he’s probably almost two now. Most likely tucked up in his bed with his mother at this hour.”

“Just one child out of all these people?” I ask curiously, eyes scanning. I wouldn’t be surprised at that news if the villagers all seemed older, but the opposite seems to be true. All I see are men and women in their prime.

“There was another,” Lu says, taking a long drink, a dabble of red wine blotting her bottom lip before her tongue sweeps it away. “You met him, actually.”

“I did?”

“Yep. Twig.”

I immediately remember the little boy who was in the army camp. He brought me my meal when I first met with Rip and Osrik.

“He was born in Drollard?”

Lu nods. “Every child who’s been born here—though it hasn’t been many—they’ve all gone into the army.”

“Why?”

She sends me a sidelong glance.

I blow out a frustrated breath. The list of things I need to ask Slade is growing by the minute.

Just then, a pretty blonde-haired woman comes up to talk to Lu, greeting her with a warm smile. Again, I get that sense of strangeness. The woman is nothing but affable, there’s nothing out of the ordinary with her expressions or overall appearance, and yet...

And yet.

My eyes skate over the pavilion, watching everyone as they mingle, their feet stepping over the rough stone, each brick spiraling toward the center. A couple of men toss some logs on the fire pit, shooting sparks up into the air, while another group mills around a wine barrel, filling up cups and smoking something from a pipe in a shape I’ve never seen before.

It’s all very...pleasant.

So why then is the hair on the back of my neck standing up?

Just then, my ears prick with the sound of raised voices. At first, I think it’s just more of the villagers having a good time, but after a second, it becomes clear that the tones aren’t lively, they’re angry.

I strain my ears, trying to pinpoint where it’s coming from as my eyes scan my surroundings. Then I turn my head and find that it’s coming from further inside the pavilion’s cave.

I didn’t really pay attention to anything past the tables where people were eating. But now, I see there are a couple of tunnels at the end. Well, one is a tunnel, and the other seems to be a crack in the mountain that’s making a very narrow path. Their shadowed recesses are nearly impossible to see from here, even with the strung lanterns hanging near the entrances.

When the voices lift again, a few of the villagers at the tables turn to look. My skin prickles when the thick baritones cut through the air, though not clearly enough for me to make out any actual words.

But I don’t need words, because I know that voice.

I’m up and on my feet in an instant, wine cup left behind on the bench as my steps take me deeper beneath the pavilion. I skirt around the tables, clinging to the opposite wall of the cave, trying not to draw attention to myself. The first tunnel I come to is wider, and there are crates sitting just inside, supplies overflowing.

I start to head inside of it when the voices lift again, and I realize they’re coming from the fissure that’s tucked into the corner and bathed in shadows.

“Another one? How many is this now?”

I recognize Ryatt’s voice instantly, though it’s hissed out between the clenched teeth of palpable anger.

“Six,” I hear Slade answer.

“Six? Fucking hell. How long are you going to ignore this?”

My steps falter, eyes going wide.

“We still have time.”

A bitter laugh comes from Ryatt. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“What do you expectme to do?” Slade’s voice suddenly snarls.

“I expect you to protect Drollard. I expect you to not bring in a threat. To go be a fucking king.”

“Stop insinuating that I don’t protect Drollard. I do everything I can to ensure its safety,” Slade snaps back.

I suddenly feel very awkward, just standing here listening in on this conversation. I turn my head back to where Lu is, finding her still half turned toward the woman, though she keeps shooting me curious looks.

I’m about to turn back around when I hear Ryatt say, “If that were true, then you wouldn’t have brought her here.”

I freeze. He’s talking about me?

“Auren is not a threat,” Slade all but growls.

My heartbeat begins to drum heavily in my chest.

“We all saw her in that ballroom. If that’s not a threat—”

“She won’t do that here.” Slade sounds so sure, but my entire body goes slick with anxious sweat.

“You don’t know that,” Ryatt counters. Slade starts to reply, but Ryatt cuts him off. “You don’t. And I want her gone.”

A sharp twist of pain jams in my stomach, and I look away, though instead of my gaze catching onto Lu again, this time I see the villagers. See all the people who I could hurt if I lose control.

Suddenly, fifty-seven doesn’t seem like such a small number.

Shame crawls up my neck and grips me by the throat.

“It’s not up to you, Ryatt,” Slade says, his voice gone low with the kind of anger held beneath the lid of a simmering pot. “And she’s making progress.”

“Yeah?” Ryatt snips back. “If she’s making so much progress here, then why haven’t you told Auren the truth? Why haven’t you told Auren about her? Are you ashamed?”

There’s a long, heavy pause.

That heaviness falls through my stomach like a rock down a well, cracks echoing in my ears every time it slams against my nerves.

Why haven’t you told Auren about her.

Told Auren about her.

About her.

The rock lands hard, shattering into the spoils of dread.

Her.