12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

T he faintest morning light illuminates my sheer bedroom curtains as I tuck our bed sheets back into place. "Wretched Anwir!" My toe throbs, and I grab it, hopping up and down. An ounce of pain is a small price to pay in exchange for the comforting routine found in a freshly made bed. I grab our line of credit note and shove it in my pocket before entering the kitchen.

"It's not a great sign, cursing the god of chaos and trickery on our first official day here." Eoin stretches on the couch and sits up.

"It's fine. I just stubbed my toe." We stare at each other, and the thick, heavy atmosphere of tension and perhaps regret lingers between us. "I'm heading into the city to set up our credit line."

I exit the cottage and quickly find a dirt path heading toward the heart of Halivaara, the city butted up against Helios castle's curtain wall. Our visitor's village sets on a hill, so it's easy to see the distance one must walk through several farmsteads before reaching the city. I imagine it will take half an hour or so.

The subtle fragrance of straw and manure carries on the light breeze as I approach a farmstead. The thatched roof on the small home is in need of repair, and part of the door has rotted away. Near the barn, an older fae woman with long white hair loads up a mule-drawn cart. She fills it with baskets of vibrant produce and stops to wipe sweat from her brow.

As she picks up the last basket, it slips from her grasp, sending turnips tumbling across the dirt. I rush forward and grab the two that roll in my direction. "Let me help you with those."

Together, we pick up several of the displaced bulbs and toss them back into the basket. As she leans forward, her blouse parts, revealing a small blue thistle tattoo near her collarbone. She clears her throat and I tear my eyes from it.

She assesses me with a sharpened gaze. "You're not from here."

"I'm not." I lift the heavy basket and slide it into the back of the cart. The glint of a coin catches my eye near her shoe, and I pick it up. "I think this is yours."

She nods and accepts the coin, tucking it into her pocket. "Goin' into town if you'd like a ride." The cadence and tone of her voice speak of someone who has spent years under the sun and isn't afraid of hard labor. She climbs into the front seat of the cart and glances at me over her shoulder. I approach, and the hint of a smile creases her eyes.

"I'm Moira." She extends her hand, and I shake it.

We enter the city, and Moira points out several shops and businesses along the main road. Notably, The House of Cards, a massive inn with a large gambling hall, several restaurants, and her favorite tailor.

The streets are wide and clear, and it's hard not to notice the distinct lack of the less pleasant smells normally found in the city. Instead of the usual mud, garbage, and dung fragrances, distinct smells of baked goods, various flowers and even a hint of honey carry on the wind. Many of the businesses along the streets also have the beautiful stained glass roofs we spotted in Reginald's Bluff.

"And here's the bank." Moira stops the cart and points to a stone building with a glass dome roof. "If you're coming to town again, stop by. I'll pay four ingot bits if you help load up my cart."

"Thank you." Four ingots isn't really worth the trip out, but I make a mental note of it. I grip the cart as I hop out, and my wrist throbs.

"Moira, is there a brothel nearby?"

She gives me a double take and chuckles. "There is one on the far side of town." She points. "But if you have extra coin, you could stop by the House of Cards I showed you earlier. Those ladies are expensive, though."

I thank her again as she pulls away. Thankfully, I won't have to pay any of the women; I'll just need to be near them. It's been long enough now; this cut is likely to scar if I don't heal it soon.

The large iron doors of the bank swing open, and my stride falters. This place drips of wealth of which I've never seen. Every fae working here, male and female, wears a full black suit with tails—even the guard staring at me. His eyes take in my dirty travel clothes and follow me across the lobby.

I pull my bank note from my pocket and lay it on the first available desk. "Good morrow. Kindly sit." The well-dressed bank teller gestures to the chair opposite hers, and I oblige. "It looks like you have a line of credit established with a foreign bank. I'll just need to verify the account number, funds and signature. Wait here."

She takes my note and disappears behind a set of glass doors, returning several minutes later with a small bag. "There are two tokens in this bag. Do not lose them." She hands me the bag and our bank note. "And here is your original bank note."

The small velvet bag contains two tokens about the size of a Rhenium. "How do I use them?"

"There's no name associated with this account; it's restricted." She gestures to the man standing in line behind me, urging me along. "Show these tokens to whoever you're buying from in the city. They'll imprint the numbers on them to charge the account."

I take my tokens straight to the tailor and purchase two ordinary dresses for castle work, two new sets of travel clothes, and a new shirt for Eoin. Using the tokens is much easier than I anticipated, and by the time I've purchased some food and wine and visited the House of Cards, I must pay a carriage to tote me and my new belongings back to the visitor's village.

The curtain in our kitchen window parts as we approach the cottage. Eoin exits the cottage and greets the carriage, shaking his head.

"I may have gotten a little carried away." I pull out two canvas bags of clothes as the driver gives Eoin the other bags.

I hand one of our credit tokens to the driver. He rubs ink on it and presses it against a page in a small leather-bound book, leaving an impression. He returns it with a tip of his hat and heads down the dirt road back toward Halivaara.

Eoin and I carry everything in and put the food and wine away.

"Let's go see what we've really gotten ourselves into." I hand Eoin his new shirt, and we change clothes before heading toward the castle wall with our work papers.

Eoin lets out a long whistle as we pass through the gate. The castle before us is magnificent, with gold-plated spires, stained glass windows, and ornate filigree carved into the stone edging. A dreamlike sense of wonder and exuberance leaves me feeling weightless.

The castle servants are easy to spot, with their matching ivory and gold suites and dresses. I stop one, and show her our papers. She points us in the right direction, and it doesn't take long for us to find the servant's entrance to the kitchen, as well as a possible weak spot in the guard rotation on the south wall.

"I'm going to look around a bit more and start some mental mapping before my shift at the stables. Be careful." His words are barely above a whisper, but I feel the weight of them. The bubbly feeling of a holiday trip dissipates, leaving the cold reality of the dangerous mission before us.

***

My first shift in the kitchen is challenging. It's been a while since I've worked under a cook, and the scale of this operation is much larger than I've experienced. I'm given an apron and a hat, and within the first few hours on the job, I find myself demoted from chopping vegetables to peeling them.

The chef is a tall fae with no hair, except for the large black mustache that detours any sort of eye contact with him. "Faster!" he shouts above the clinking of pans, utensils, and the shuffling of feet. I peel faster and faster, trying to keep up with the ever-growing pile of vegetables beside me.

The blade slips, and I slice a chunk of flesh from my knuckle. I jerk my hand back, hissing in pain, but not before the drop of blood lands on my pile of peeled vegetables.

"Idiot girl!" Chef shouts and throws an overripe tomato at me. I duck just before it splats into the wall. His mustache twitches, and he snatches my hand, turning it in his own. "You healers are so careless."

Chef slides the vegetables before me into a bucket; the clang of them against metal like a bell announcing my failure. "Take these to the hogs. I'm moving you to the morning shift, girl. Mess up again, and you'll be packing your bags."

I carry the bucket out of the castle and wander aimlessly for several minutes before realizing there aren't any actual hogs on castle grounds. I drop the bucket and kick it, sending peeled vegetables flying, some of which land on a perfectly polished black boot.

The boot jerks, sliding zucchini and tomatoes into the grass. My eyes slide up tailored ivory pants and a well-fitted vest with gold buttons to a young, handsome, clean-shaven face with full light brown brows and grey eyes.

"I can't imagine what a bunch of vegetables did to offend such a lovely young lady." The blond fae pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and bends to wipe his boot.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't see you there." I rush forward and take his handkerchief, wiping his boot clean. "I didn't think anyone was out here."

"Yes, why would anyone be at the entrance to the High Lord's private garden." He straightens and gives me a pointed look.

"If there's anything I can do to make this right, I will. Please don't tell Chef about this. He's already pissed at me." I can't get sent home on our first day here.

He slides his gloved hands into his pockets as his gaze travels down to my shoes and back to my hair, landing on my ear. "Alright. Let's say you owe me one, and for now, you should keep those legs firmly planted on the soil. No need to assault anyone else with your vegetable rage." He smiles and continues into the garden, yelling over his shoulder. "And clean up that mess."

I toss the vegetables back in the bucket and carry them with me toward the stables. I'm so gods damned lucky. I've handled my first minor hiccup, and I only owe some fae male a favor. He didn't get my name, and I doubt if he will even remember me.

Penny neighs loudly when I enter the stable. I pull a peeled carrot from my bucket and hold it out for her before scratching the white diamond on her forehead.

"You're going to spoil her," Eoin says, wiping his hands on a cloth and striding toward us. "Some of the stablemen already joke about you riding her around, calling her a fat draft horse who belongs on a farm." Penny's loud chewing emphasizes a long, uncomfortable silence.

"What are you doing off so early?" Eoin leans against the stable door.

"Well, I didn't make the best impression with the chef, and I've been demoted—twice. I work the first shift now, which means I'll be getting up before dawn." I stroke Penny's velvety nose and grimace at Eoin.

"That may work out better for us. It'll be a good excuse for us to be out with fewer onlookers, and we can do a little mapping before you start your shift."

"Good idea. I'm going to be pretty tired in the morning, though. I've got a date tonight." I grin slyly at Eoin.

"You do?" Eoin stiffens, and the smile leaves his eyes.

"I'm just kidding. I heard some of the kitchen staff say they're going to the House of Cards tonight to celebrate one of their birthdays. It might be beneficial to make a connection or at least listen in on some gossip. Did you know they have a gambling house here?"

"I've heard it mentioned a couple of times already. It must be popular." The smile returns to his eyes, and he brushes my hair back off of my shoulder. "I think that's a great place to start."