“Welcome to The Sleeping Horse,” a middle-aged woman with short curly hair said. “What can I get you?”
I let my eyes glide over the handful of patrons already seated at the tables before turning my attention to the woman. “Yeah, I wanna rent a room. And I need to stable my horse too.”
“Of course.” She gave me a warm smile. “Any room preferences?”
“Top floor, if you have.”
That way, if unwanted trouble came looking for me it was easier to disappear up on the roof. The woman with the curly blond hair nodded and went in search of a key. She reappeared a moment later with a thick metal one but didn’t hand it over.
“How long are you staying?”
I shrugged. “Don’t know yet.”
She cleared her throat. “It’s just... we take payment in advance.”
Ah. Of course they did. Having someone stay for weeks and realize that they had no money only when it was time to leave was no way to run a business.
“I’ll pay for a week in advance then.” I gave her another shrug. “And then I’ll just keep doing that until I’m ready to leave.”
A bright smile spread across her plump face. “That works well.”
While we were finishing up our money transaction, a girl with brown hair in wild curls burst through the door at the back of the tavern. The other patrons looked up in alarm but then went back to eating and drinking when they saw who it was.
“Mom!” she called. “Have you seen the beautiful gray mare outside?”
The tavern hostess chuckled. “That would be this young lady’s horse.”
Brown eyes sparkled when the girl turned to me. “What’s her name?”
“Silver,” I replied. “Or so they said when I bought her, at least.”
“See to it that Silver is stabled, brushed, and fed, would you?” the middle-aged woman said before the girl could fire off any more questions.
“Of course!” She flew out the door again.
Shaking her head, the woman in front of me gave me another smile. “That whirlwind of a girl is my daughter Livia. She loves horses. So don’t worry, yours will be well taken care of.” She jerked back and blinked at me like a surprised owl. “Oh dear, I’ve quite forgotten to introduce myself, haven’t I? I’m Merina. My husband is Hestor. You’ll probably meet him later this afternoon. And then we also have an older daughter, Meera. You will hear her tonight.”
“Hear her?”
Merina handed over the key and winked at me. “Wait and see.”
Not being in the mood for guessing games, I simply thanked her and took the offered key. I had spotted the staircase to the left of the entrance when I arrived so I found my room on the top floor without issue.
It wasn’t much to cheer for. A bed, desk and chair, and a set of drawers. But at least I had a mattress, blanket, and pillow. And a door I could lock. I had slept in better rooms but I had also slept in a lot worse. This would do. After locking the door behind me, I dropped my pack on the floor and flopped down on the bed. This would do nicely, indeed.
Traveling on horseback and sleeping outdoors had taken its toll on my city girl disposition so I spent the rest of the day trying to get the exhaustion out of my body. It didn’t do much, though. My mind refused to turn off and pain dripped from my heart. I tossed and turned restlessly in my bed until late afternoon before finally giving up and stalking down the stairs.
At this time of day, the tavern was full of people. I watched them as I made my way to the bar. Some looked like travelers, their dusty clothes betraying them, but others appeared to be locals who came here to drink at the end of another workday.
“What do you want?”
I blinked at the brown-haired man behind the bar. “What?”
“To drink?” He motioned behind him. “We have ale and wine...” Trailing off, he studied my startled expression. “Unless you fancy something stronger?”
Oh. Right. What did I want to drink? Of course that was what he had meant.
Words spoken on a ship by a certain smuggler had beaten mercilessly against my brain for months now. What do you want? For you? Zaina had asked. I don’t know, I had replied. I don’t know what I want for me. For so long, all I had ever wanted was to keep Liam safe and happy. That had been my purpose in life. But now Liam was safe and happy and had a life of his own. He didn’t need me anymore. What was my purpose in life now?
Realizing that the man I presumed to be Merina’s husband, Hestor, was still waiting for an answer, I shoved my heartache and confusion aside and shook my head to clear it. It only partially worked.
“I’ll have an ale. And a shot.” I drummed my fingers on the bar. “Actually, make that two.”
Hestor was gracious enough not to judge and instead simply nodded. “Coming right up.”
All my visible knives lay packed away safely in my room because I had wanted to survey the crowd first, without drawing too much attention. However, that meant I couldn’t scare away people from the table I wanted so I had to settle for a less ideally placed one. It was not by the wall, which I would’ve preferred, but at least it was at the back of the room so I could keep an eye on the other patrons.
Ale sloshed over the top of the mug as I placed it and the two shot glasses on the table. Flicking spilled ale off my fingers, I sat down and took a long drink. It was decent. Not as good as the Mad Archer’s, of course, but nothing ever was. A cold fist gripped my heart at the thought of the Mad Archer and all the wonderful times I’d spend there with Liam. I slammed up the walls around my heart and downed the first shot.
Afternoon turned into evening while I exercised my skills in self-medication. Concerned brown eyes studied the rather vast collection of empty glasses on my table when Hestor brought me yet another shot, but he didn’t comment. The alcohol helped dull the hurt a bit but didn’t chase it away completely. I kept trying anyway.
A woman’s distressed yelp pulled me back to the present. I squinted at the source. Some tables away, a heavily muscled man was laughing and catcalling a woman in a blue dress. From the position of her hands, he had no doubt put his fingers where they didn’t belong. When she scurried away, he roared again while his friends slapped the table in excitement. Glaring at him, I emptied another glass. Men.
He tried the same thing with other women passing by his table. Briefly, I wondered why no one said anything. Bulging muscles rippled under a dusty shirt when he swung his thick limbs around to reach for another woman’s bottom. He was big and, given the state of his clothes, a traveler. Yeah. That was why. They probably just hoped that he would leave soon enough on his own.
“Meera! Meera!” a rhythmic chanting unexpectedly rose from the gathered crowd.
The excited calls were followed by clapping, cheering, and table slapping. Puzzled, I turned in every direction to figure out what in Nemanan’s name had brought this on. My eyes fell on a gorgeous young woman with long blond hair and blue eyes. Meera. A memory from earlier floated to the front of my brain. Hadn’t that been the name of the tavern keepers’ eldest daughter?
When the stunning woman climbed onto a short stool by the bar, the room fell silent. Everyone watched her with eager eyes. She opened her mouth. A voice as soft as royal silk drifted through the room as Meera sang. It was hauntingly beautiful. The song was a sad one and it, combined with her otherworldly voice, produced something so raw it threatened to destroy me. I didn’t think there was anything left to break in my heart, but whatever it was that had managed to remain intact, shattered that night in the tavern.
What was the point of anything? All I had ever done was bring violence and death to the people I cared about. Rain. Liam. They would have been so much better off without me. I had wanted to protect them but the thing they had needed protection from was me. And now they were gone. My whole life, I had persevered through all the awful things I’d been through because I had wanted to keep my friends safe. That was what I had lived for. What was there left to live for now?
&
nbsp; Meera’s heartbreaking tunes came to an end. The whole tavern broke out in cheers but I could only stare blankly ahead while searing agony and a profound sense of loss ripped my soul to shreds.
“Thank you,” the beautiful singer said to the crowd. “You’re too kind.”
I couldn’t keep feeling this way. Emptying the rest of my glasses, I tried desperately to dull the pain. I had to do something.
“Come here, you,” the muscled man said and grabbed a hold of Meera’s arm. He drew her closer. “That was beautiful. Any chance of a private concert?”
Discomfort was evident on her face as she carefully pried her arm from his grip and slid away. “I’m afraid not.”
My eyes narrowed. Him. Given everything I’d seen this night, he would have no qualms about laying a hand on a woman. Placing my palms on the table full of glasses and spilled drinks, I pushed myself up. The edges of my vision were blurry. Ignoring it, I stalked towards his table in a far clumsier fashion than I would’ve preferred. Once I reached it, I pretended to stumble and slammed right into him.
“Hey! Watch it,” I snapped.
The man turned gray eyes full of annoyance and incredulity on me. “Watch it? You’re the one who should watch it.”
“Not my fault that you flap your arms around like a retarded seagull.”
Shocked silence fell over the room for a moment. Everyone stared at me. Then, chairs scraped against the floor as he and his companions shot to their feet. Now that he was standing, I had to crane my neck to meet his eyes.
“You’re gonna apologize for that,” he warned. “Now.”
“Yeah, not gonna happen.” I flicked my hand in an arrogant gesture. “So why don’t you take a walk.”
Fire roared in his eyes. “Apologize. Now.”
“Or what? You’re gonna hit me?” Quick as a snake, I gave his stubbled cheek a hard slap. “Like that?”
His arm shot out and grabbed the front of my shirt. Hauling me forward by my collar, he leaned down and opened his mouth to no doubt growl threats in my face.
A loud bang echoed. Hestor put down the two metal rods he had just slammed together. “If you are going to fight, you do it outside. And any blood on the sheets will be added to your bill. Is that clear?”
Despite only being of average height and built, Hestor commanded enough respect to make the muscled man comply. He released my shirt and shoved me towards the front door. I gave him an arrogant grin as I exited the building and took up position on the sandy ground outside.
“Last chance to back out.” He cracked his knuckles.
“Why? You afraid you’ll lose?”
Scattered chuckles broke out from the crowd that had filed out behind us. Anger flashed in my opponent’s eyes. He took a step forward and swung a fist at my face. I ducked it and slammed my knuckles into his side. Pain shot up my wrist. With all his muscles, the huge man barely registered the strike and instead threw an elbow into my cheek. My head snapped to the side. I took a step back to steady myself but didn’t get far before a blow struck my jaw. I crashed to the ground.
“Had enough?” my assailant jeered.
Pressing a hand to my forehead, I blinked repeatedly until the scene came back into focus. I climbed to my feet again.
Darting forward, I feigned a direction change and aimed for his jaw. He didn’t fall for it. His large hand flew up and gripped my fist before it connected. With my hand trapped, and my other arm too slow to react, I was defenseless as he backhanded me across the mouth. Pulling back again, he drove his hand into my stomach. I collapsed to the street.
“Stay down!” the man called.
Short ragged breaths made it out of my throat as I pushed myself onto my knees. Pain rolled over my body. Wheezing, I climbed to my feet.
“I said stay down!” he bellowed and planted a boot in my side.
The kick flipped me over on my back. For a few seconds, I just lay there but then I gathered the rest of my strength and started pushing myself back up. My opponent grabbed my shirt and yanked me up only to deliver a heavy blow to my face. When he let go, I slumped back down.
“Don’t you ever disrespect me again,” the muscled man said before stomping back inside.
The crowd followed him. I heard their footsteps more than saw them because I couldn’t manage to lift my head. Everything ached. Rolling over on my side briefly, I coughed blood onto the sand before flopping onto my back again.
Every muscle and every bone pounded from the beating. I savored the feeling. Physical pain was good. Another cough racked my body and I spit more blood onto the street. This kind of hurt was much better than the excruciating agony clawing inside my chest. Physical pain I could handle. Mental, on the other hand, was much harder to cope with.
“Are you trying to get yourself killed?”
I opened my eyes to find a face framed by wild brown curls looking down on me.
“I don’t know.”
“It sure looked like it,” Livia said and held out her hand. “You must’ve known you couldn’t beat him.”
Taking her hand, I let her help me to my feet. “Oh, I could have. If I wanted to.”
She held my elbow as I stumbled to the door. “Why didn’t you want to?”
As we made slow progress up the stairs, I fell silent. How did one explain to a twelve-year-old that the goal hadn’t been to win? It had been to feel something. Anything. I could’ve stabbed him straight away and ended it before it began but I had wanted him to beat me up. I had wanted pain I could deal with instead of the horrible internal one I otherwise felt. But there was no way to explain that to a child so I kept quiet while she helped me onto my bed. I stared blankly into the ceiling. What was I supposed to do now?
3.
Sleep eluded me for hours. It wasn’t until dawn reached its tendrils through the shutters of my room that I finally dozed off. Nightmares plagued my dreams. I woke up exhausted at midday but I couldn’t bring myself to get out of bed. Instead, I remained lying there, staring unseeing into the wall for another few hours.
Late that afternoon, I finally managed to muster enough energy to tear my gaze from the wooden planks and climb to my feet. Every one of my limbs throbbed when I made my way downstairs. I had to hold on to the railing and take the steps one at a time but it was worth it because it kept my mind off other topics.
“Ale,” I said to Hestor while bracing myself on the bar. “And whatever you have to eat.”
After accepting my payment, he filled up a mug and handed it to me. “Livia will bring the food over in a few minutes.” He hesitated for a moment. “There is a doctor here that–”
“I’ll live.” I took the mug and made for a table at the back.
Since it was still early afternoon, the tavern was far from full which meant I could choose almost any table I wanted. I picked one at the back where I could see the whole room and have my back protected by the wall.
A couple of minutes later, Livia popped out of the kitchen and ran over to my table with a plate in her hand. She placed the steaming meal in front of me but didn’t leave.
“Thanks,” I said and shoveled a spoonful of food into my mouth.
It was some type of stew or other but I didn’t much care which kind. Livia was still standing by my table. I eyed her suspiciously. She turned around to leave but then immediately whirled back around again and drew out the chair next to mine. Wood creaked as she plopped down on it. Drawing herself up so that she sat cross-legged on the seat, she peered at me.
“So, where are you headed?” she asked.
“Don’t know.” I shoved more stew into my mouth.
“Then you’ve come to the right place for sure.” She beamed at me. “Did you know that Travelers’ Rest sits exactly in the middle between Pernula, Sker, and Beccus? Well, it does. And then of course there’s Frustaz just a little more south of Beccus. But they’re occupied by the star elves of course. Beccus and Frustaz, I mean. So if you have beef with the star elves then you shouldn’t be hea
ding there. Are you wanted or something? I’m not. Wanted, I mean. Or scared. Of the star elves, that is. I don’t think they’ll come here. Or if they do, I’m–”
“Do you ever, like, take a breath?” I interrupted. Astonishment filled my eyes as I stared at her. “Did you even breathe once while saying all that?”
Livia scrunched up her face in thought. Then she shook her head so vigorously her brown curls danced around her face. “No.”
Not being able to help myself, I released a chuckle. “That mouth ever get you into trouble?”
“Yeah. Lots.” She grinned at me.
I snorted. “I can relate.”
A large group of travelers wandered through the door. Chairs and tables scraped against the wooden floor as they rearranged the furniture so they could all sit together. After swallowing the last bit of stew, I leaned back and rested my head against the dark wood of the wall panel.
“So,” Livia began and pinched her lip, “if you don’t know where you’re going, how do you know where you’re going?”
I frowned at her. “What?”
“What’s it you’re looking for?”
“Oh, uhm...” I hesitated but then decided that I had nothing to lose by being honest. “I’m looking for the Storm Casters. You ever met one?”
“Ashaana?” She shook her head. “No. I don’t know anyone who has.” A grin spread across her young face. “I’d really wanna, though. They seem kinda cool.”
“So you have no idea where they are?”
“Nope.” Livia lifted her narrow shoulders in a shrug. “You could ask people in town but I don’t think they know either.”
“Livia!” Merina’s voice rose from the kitchen. “Stop bothering the young lady and come help me with these plates.”
Mischief sparkled in her brown eyes as the enthusiastic girl grimaced at me. “Gotta go.” She jumped off the chair and raced back behind the bar.
A Storm of Glass and Stars (The Oncoming Storm Book 4) Page 2