Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16

Evelyn

THE BUILDINGS AND PEOPLE IN THIS TOWN COULD BE pulled straight out of a history book. At least if that history book drew from multiple different cultures spread across the world. There are the distinct roof lines of pagodas, and their inverse in rumah gadang with spiked gables. I even catch sight of several turf houses on the perimeter. The chaotic mix somehow comes together to create a cohesive whole.

The people are equally varied. There is every skin tone and body type imaginable. It must be market day, because there’s a bit of a crowd gathered in the open space between buildings. Stalls with brightly colored awnings offer fruits and vegetables I recognize—apples and pomegranates and squash. People haggle over prices in a way that’s so familiar, it actually hurts.

Human. They are all undeniably human.

Just to be sure, I pull my drained reserves of magic and cast it out in a faint circle. Sure enough, they’re human, albeit of a magical variety. The people closest to us give me a sharp look as I scan them, but they quickly look away when they see Bowen at my back. Their fear is so transparent that it actually gives me pause.

I look around again, and sure enough, people have melted away from us until we’re standing in a large circle. They haven’t actually fled, but I see a parent grab their child’s arm before the kid can run into the empty space. They sweep up the child and hurry away, their expression stricken. “Bowen—”

He wraps a careful hand around my wrist. “Don’t scan them. It’s rude.”

“It’s not me they’re reacting to,” I say softly. They watch him with a wariness one would give a hungry wolf that wandered into their midst. I study his expression, wondering if he sees it, too. The Bowen I’ve come to know would be incredibly bothered by this reaction, and sure enough, there’s a new tension in his shoulders. But he still doesn’t seem to be fully registering exactly how wary these people are. “Is this how every village reacts when you come into it?”

“Evelyn.” His voice is deeper than normal. Despite myself, I inch closer to him. This man exerts a pull of gravity all his own. “Stop trying to distract me from the fact that you’re looking for an exit.”

For once, I hadn’t been. I don’t imagine the portal will have a giant sign announcing its presence overhead. It certainly won’t be in the village center where anyone could tumble into it.

I bet it will be like portals in our world, hidden in fairy rings, in forked trees over water, and in mirrors. Well, maybe not the last. The portals have existed since before the technology to make mirrors was created. So they have to be natural.

But that’s neither here nor there. At least right now. He brought me here for a reason, and I want the answers he’s offering. I want him to have the answers he’s seeking. It’s possible that my instincts are wrong about how off this situation is … but I don’t think so. “We came here for a reason, right? Let’s get to questioning.”

For a moment, it looks like he wants to argue with me, but he finally curses under his breath and starts down the main street, towing me behind him. I could break his hold easily. I choose not to for reasons I’m not about to examine.

With every step, I catch scents that are both familiar and not. A person with pale skin and freckles is roasting meat and carving it bit by bit to serve in wraps of some sort. Another, with dark brown skin and the kind of wrinkles that speak to a life well-lived, is frying vegetables and tossing them into a bowl with broth and noodles. A third with light brown skin and a bald head is shaving ice into cups for a group of small children.

We move past the food to the stalls that have people hawking everything from jewelry to textiles to bundles of herbs. The last makes me pause for a moment, but there’s no stopping Bowen’s forward momentum.

Every single person flinches when they see us. When they see him. It happens exactly the same, over and over again. The first glance of curiosity. The second to note his size. Then they see the crimson cloak and their expressions shut down. Some of them actually look terrified. Surely Bowen realizes this is not the reaction of people grateful for the C?n Annwn’s interference.

The street ends at a large stone building that’s familiar from the trip I made to Europe after graduation. The memory is a smear of alcohol, sex, and grief, but even in the midst of that, I remember the churches. This isn’t the largest I’ve seen—its size is on par with the rest of the buildings along the main street—but it’s certainly got all the details. Right down to the gargoyles perched on the corners, looking down disapprovingly.

“What gods do they worship here?”

“A large variety. Just like every other island.” Bowen pushes through the doors as if he’s been here before. Inside it’s even more beautiful than the outside. The multicolored glass paints the floor in abstract art that shifts with the clouds overhead. The benches are not the most ornate I’ve seen, and the pulpit is plain wood, but there’s a vibe in here that speaks of history. Of power. I don’t fuck with organized religion, but as Bunny used to say, it’s foolish not to know all the varied kinds of beliefs and magics.

Especially since some of them would like to see us six feet in the ground.

I don’t get a chance to soak up the atmosphere, though. Bowen isn’t hurting me. He’s certainly not dragging me along behind him. But his pace discourages lingering, and if I stop, I’m not entirely certain he’d notice for a few steps.

A man steps out from the door near the back of the building. He’s short and slight, his skin a cool dark brown. I expect him to call for help. It’s what I would do if an angry-looking Bowen was bearing down on me.

This stranger does the same sequence of glancing, realization, and fear that everyone else has so far. The only difference is that his fear melts away instantly, replaces by derision. “A visitor. How lovely.”

Bowen stops roughly ten feet away. He doesn’t drop my hand, though. When he speaks, his tone is perfectly even and respectful. As if he doesn’t care that he’s obviously not welcome here. “We were called here to remove a dragon that had been plaguing your shores. I would like to talk to the person who reported it. We’ve had a bit of issue dealing with the beast, and any information you can impart would be incredibly valuable.”

The man shakes his head sharply. “You came for nothing, then. No one in town reported anything to that Council of yours.”

Bowen’s hand spasms around my wrist, and it surprises me enough that I make a small noise. He releases me instantly, but he doesn’t take his gaze from the man. “That’s impossible. I saw the report myself. I was told that several of your young people had been killed.”

“That part’s true enough.” The man looks away, some of his fury dissipating into sadness. “Several of our young people took it upon themselves to encroach on the dragon’s territory despite our warnings. We knew she was breeding, and temperamental as a result. One does not get between a mother and her young.”

I could cut the tension in the room with a knife. I don’t know if this man is the leader of the town, a priest, or something else altogether, but he obviously dislikes Bowen as much as the rest of them. I step forward, drawing his attention. “I’m Evelyn.”

For a moment, I think he’ll just demand we get out, but he finally relents. “I’m Elijah.”

“Bowen.” Bowen looks at me. There’s no victory in his eyes, just sympathy as if delivering bad news. He thinks he’s right and that it will change my mind, but he takes no pleasure in it. “The dragon killed several people, just like the report said.”

“I can confidently say that none of my people made this report you speak of. I don’t know how your Council came by this information, but it wasn’t through official means.” Elijah crosses his arms over his chest. “It’s not often that dragons come to our shores to nest, but it happens every generation or so. It’s a gift to be alive when it happens. There’s a spot on the cliffs that allows a view of the beach from a safe distance. The people on this island have been gathering there for as long as the dragons have been coming. Or did you think that our village’s population is enough to generate the crowd outside?”

Now that he mentions it, there were a lot of people for a town small enough to be termed a village. “So it’s an event.”

Bowen tenses. “People died.”

“Yes.” Elijah sighs. “Every generation, some of our people are foolish and trespass where they shouldn’t instead of sticking to the safety of the cliff view. I won’t say they earned their fate, because death is a terrible consequence for foolishness, but I hardly think the creature should be punished for human error.”

I watch Bowen closely. I won’t pretend I know him well, but even I can see the conflict passing over his face. This isn’t what he expected. Considering how he and the rest of the C?n Annwn talk, it isn’t what I expected, either.

After all, we have monster hunters in my realm, too. Most humans would rather kill the monster in question than wonder if maybe the fault is held by all. It’s true that there are monsters who specifically target humans, but this isn’t the same. This is like provoking a mother bear after she’s just had a cub. Tragic as the loss of life is, it’s not that unexpected.

“But the report …”

Elijah cuts him off with a wave of his hand. “There was no report as far as I’m concerned. Leave the dragon alone. Within a month, she’ll return to her home realm with her youngling. Our people will steer clear of the western beach until then, so there should be no further incident.”

This time, it’s me who reaches out and takes Bowen’s hand.

Elijah pauses without turning back. “I understand what the C?n Annwn claim to be doing with their hunts, but most of the time all you’re accomplishing is compounding a tragedy into something catastrophic. No one should be punished for protecting their child, regardless of whether humans consider them to be monsters or not. It’s what any of us would do in her situation. Murdering her and leaving her child motherless is not the answer.” He finally turns to look over his shoulder at us, his expression severe. “Or would you kill the child as well for the sin of being born?”

He’s not saying anything I disagree with, but it’s as if his words are stones thrown at Bowen. Every sentence makes the big man’s shoulders drop further. I slip my hand into his and manage a smile, though it feels stilted. “Thank you for your time.”

It’s more than mildly alarming to be able to lead Bowen to one of the pews and guide him to sit down. It’s on the tip of my tongue to make a joke to break the awful storm growing in his expression. I don’t. “Are you okay?”

“He’s wrong.” He doesn’t say it like he believes it, though. “He has to be wrong. We protect people. They’re grateful for the protection.”

How much to push? It’s hard to say. But there might never be a moment where I can get through to him. I don’t have to take a hammer to him; all I need is a scalpel. “How many villages or towns meet you with open arms? Or do they all greet you like this one, as if you’re the monster hiding under their beds?”

“What?”

“Typically when there’s a savior coming into town, people are excited to see them. It’s a celebrated thing.” I’ve seen it happen with the hunters back home. People fear the dark and they elevate those who are willing to take up their weapons and fight monsters beyond knowing.

That’s the problem, though. I won’t pretend there aren’t monsters lurking in plenty of shadows, but a lot of people look at something Other and decide it’s monstrous simply because they don’t see themselves reflected back.

In my world, it’s all too easy for the monster hunters to become more monstrous than the beings they hunt. Judging by the looks people gave us when we walked through the village, the same is true for Threshold.

“Some people don’t understand,” he mutters. “They think we’re there to snatch their children to join our ranks. That’s not how the laws work. We protect. We don’t kidnap and murder, no matter what Elijah says.”

It strikes me that I could fall in love with this fallen hero of a man. The way he clings to his laws as if everyone holds them as sacred makes me want to hug him. “Not every C?n Annwn is you, Bowen. You’re not naive enough to believe none of them abuse their power. That’s not even getting into the fact that apparently the Council fabricated the report that led to your order to kill this dragon. How many other reports have they fabricated that you just didn’t catch?”

“I can’t … This isn’t …” He stares down at his hands. “This is fucked.”

“Yep.” I bump my shoulder against his. “The only question is what you’re going to do about it.” I don’t expect a single conversation to knock his entire alignment out of order, but surely he can see that chasing down the dragon is wrong?

Bowen leans back against the pew with a sigh. “I would like to know who’s making reports on behalf of people who aren’t interested in being saved.”

“Only because there wasn’t anything to be saved from.” I have to wonder how many generations of dragons had their young on that beach while the village kept their silence. I would wager there’s been more than either of us could possibly guess. “Are you going to hunt her down?”

“No.” He shakes his head and his voice firms up. “No. It’s a waste of time and resources when she’ll return to her home realm on her own. As long as she doesn’t hurt or kill anyone else, it seems … cruel to kill her. Let alone the youngling.” His expression is troubled. “No matter what else is true, he was right about that. It’s wrong to deprive a child of its mother, when she was only trying to protect them. I don’t like that she killed people, but …”

“It’s more complicated than you realized,” I fill in.

“Yeah. A lot more complicated.”

That soft feeling in my chest grows. I knew there was much to be admired about this infuriating man, but the fact that he’s adapting so quickly? It breaks my heart that I won’t be around to see his final evolution.

If he even has one. The C?n Annwn don’t seem the type to allow their people to question orders.

A frisson of fear shoots down my spine. No. Damn it, no. Bowen is not my problem. Even if he was, I’m not the one people go to when they need help or protection. I’m a good time and a fun escape, but I’m not a harbor against storms.

But … I don’t want to see him hurt.

“I know the crew won’t be happy to hear that, but maybe you can find a way to pitch it that sounds reasonable and won’t cause a revolt.”

He finally looks at me. One corner of his lips curve. “Worried about me?”

“Maybe.” I huff. “Okay, fine, yes, I’m worried about you. You were about to sacrifice yourself against a cat-sìth to save my life. Your instincts are suspect.”

His dark eyes see too much. Thankfully, he keeps his observations to himself and rises. “Let’s go back to the Hag. Hopefully I come up with a brilliant argument in the meantime to convince them not to mutiny.”

Again, that awful concern for him arises. I’ve seen how some of the crew talk about him. You hear a lot of things in the kitchen, and while I had no intention of staying in Threshold longer than strictly necessary, it was impossible not to notice that the crew is divided into three factions. Those who think Bowen walks on water. Those who believe Miles is more of a proper representation of what the C?n Annwn should be. And those who haven’t made up their mind yet.

It still boggles the mind that these fearsome monster killers decide their captain by … vote. From the gossip I gathered, there are times when it might come down to a fight or a straight-up mutiny, but generally that’s not how leadership passes. The captain who’s voted out is dropped at the nearest port—as long as they still has some goodwill with the crew—and then they’re left to find another C?n Annwn crew and join up, starting at the bottom of the heirarchy.

In the time since Bowen pulled me out of the water, he seems to be losing people’s support daily. “Will this decision be the one that finally tips the balance in Miles’s favor?”

“It’s possible. Probable, even.” Bowen shrugs. He holds out a broad hand, and even though I definitely don’t need help standing, I take it and allow him to tug me to my feet. He doesn’t respond to my question until we step out of the building and into the faint sunlight. “There are a lot of individuals who are loyal to me, but the crew as a whole is a fickle beast and Miles is good at knowing exactly what angle to take to get them to listen to him.” He shrugs again. “It doesn’t matter. It’s the right thing to do.”

Again, that awful urge to protect him arises.

Watch out for yourself first, little bird. No one else will.

Bunny’s rule rings hollow as we trudge back down the dirt path toward the dock. She’s not wrong. I have no intention of staying with the C?n Annwn, and even if I did, I would balk at hurting Bowen, even indirectly. I can’t imagine Miles would let me stay aboard if he became captain; it’s far more likely that he would finish what he started the day I arrived and try to kill me. Out on the water with the entire crew at his back? I don’t stand a chance.

Damned if I flee, damned if I stay.

I’m so wrapped up in my dark thoughts that I don’t realize Bowen has stopped walking until I bounce off his back. “Hey!”

His power rises so fast, it feels like a hunting bird diving past me. I jump away, but he’s not focused on me. His attention is on the docks, and farther out to the bay. The bay that is currently empty.

“Where the fuck is my ship?”