House of Blood and Bone

by Kimberley J. Ward

  Eliza’s hair was darker, the threads of silver gone, and her skin was smoother, the fine wrinkles having vanished. Her cheekbones were more defined, sharper, and her eyes…

  Nessa blinked, not quite believing what she saw.

  Eliza’s hazel eyes now bore a striking resemblance to those of a cat: large, angled and with slitted pupils.

  Old Blood, Aoife whispered, awestruck.

  Nessa barely stifled a gasp.

  As swiftly as Eliza’s features had changed, they reverted back, her features softening, her skin subtly ageing, her cat eyes once again human.

  “Shh.” Eliza glanced over her shoulder, then held up an amulet, small and old, which hung around her neck by a leather cord. A faded runic symbol was etched into its surface. “My brethren and I are your allies. But you need to be wary around others who do not bear this seal. They are your enemies, even if they are like kin to you.”

  “What are you talking about?” Nessa asked. Dread bloomed like a dark, malicious flower.

  Nessa received no answer. Eliza tucked the amulet back under the neckline of her dress and dashed from the alley, nearly crashing into Hunter as he rounded the corner. Before either of them could recover from their shock, Eliza slipped into the crowd and disappeared.

  Hunter shook off the dismay first. He rushed over to Nessa. “Was that—”

  “Eliza the seamstress?” Nessa muttered. “Yes, yes it was.”

  “And dare I ask what that was all about?”

  “She said that my secret is safe with her,” Nessa murmured. “She also said a few other things about being careful and to only trust her brethren.”

  Hunter’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, is that all? Glad she didn’t stab you or anything nefarious like that.”

  “Stab me?”

  “The next time someone drags you into a dark alleyway, maybe you could at least try to fight back?”

  “I was taken by surprise,” Nessa argued. “And anyway, I had a punch primed and ready to go. Then I saw who it was.”

  Hunter’s eyes twinkled, his lips twitching as he fought back a grin. “You were going to punch her?”

  “Maybe.” Nessa shrugged. “What of it?”

  “Nothing,” Hunter smirked. “I’m just pleasantly surprised, that’s all. I didn’t think you had it in you to punch someone.”

  “Well, now you know.”

  “Indeed, I do.”

  “You won’t be underestimating me again, now, will you?”

  “I’ll be sure not to make that mistake again.” Hunter gestured to the alley’s entrance. “Come on. Let’s go find Orm before something else unexpected happens.”

  They left the alleyway, keeping close to the sides of the buildings, avoiding the flood of shoppers that seemed to be growing with the later hour. Freed from the shadows, Nessa was able to see what Eliza had handed her in the gloom of the alley. She carefully unrolled the small bundle of soft, dark fabric.

  “What’s that you got?”

  Nessa held up two matching items. “Eliza just gave them to me.”

  “Oh, the nutty woman gave you some arm warmers? How nice of her.”

  “I believe,” Nessa said, putting them on, “that they are to hide my Rider’s Mark.” Everything from her knuckles to the elbow was concealed, everything except for her thumbs and fingers.

  “Well, fancy that.” Hunter spared them a glance. “That is nice of her. Thoughtful too. What else did Eliza give you? Did she say anything useful?”

  “Well…” Nessa hesitated, feeling Aoife tug on their bond.

  Careful with what you say, Aoife warned. Eliza said that she would keep your secret, so I think you should show the same courtesy.

  I guess you’re right, Nessa admitted. It’s probably not a good idea to go around telling people that there’s an Old Blood living here.

  Especially since the king has a penchant for hunting Old Bloods and killing them.

  “Eliza just said that my secret is safe with her,” Nessa murmured, “and that I should be more careful. Oh, and that perilous times are ahead.”

  Hunter’s brows rose. “And I presume that you feel like your secret is safe with her?”

  “Yes,” Nessa said honestly. “Otherwise she wouldn’t have bothered to give me something to hide the mark, now, would she?”

  “No, I suppose she wouldn’t,” Hunter agreed. “And these perilous times ahead, did she give any insight on that, any clues or hints?”

  “None whatsoever.”

  “How delightfully vague and unhelpful.”

  “And here I was thinking that you’d appreciate the vagueness.”

  “Oh, under normal circumstances, yes, I would. However, when a vague foreshadowing of impending doom is predicted by a stranger who knows that you’re a Dragon Rider, I suddenly find myself wanting a little less vagueness involved.”

  “Mmm, while we’re on the subject of vagueness, Orm wasn’t particularly forthcoming when it came to telling us where he was going.”

  “I doubt Orm really knew where he was going himself,” Hunter laughed. “But he won’t be that hard to find. He usually sticks to the same kind of establishments.” Hunter nodded to a building up ahead. “I bet my best shirt that he’s in there.”

  “I’m wearing your best shirt, so that’s not a very good bet.”

  Hunter snickered.

  Nessa looked at the building that Hunter was betting his best shirt on. It was large, long and several stories tall. The exposed timber framework was painted a harsh black, as were the window frames and shutters. The upper floors were jettied, each one sticking out a little further than the one below it, and the steep roof had a dusting of grey soot around the clusters of tall chimneys that were dotted around, many of which spewed thin fingers of smoke.

  As they drew closer, Nessa saw a sign hanging above the double front door that read “The Blackened Cauldron”.

  “You reckon he’s in there?” Nessa asked, voicing her doubts.

  “Oh yes,” Hunter said, coming to a stop in front of the doors. “It’s big enough to have plenty of rooms for travellers to spend the night, and it appears to be nice enough to attract more wealthy visitors. Yet it’s not too nice as to prevent less well-off people from stopping by every now and again for a drink and a game of cards.”

  Nessa summarised, “So it has a wide variety of people for Orm to swindle money from?”

  Hunter nodded. “Pretty much. Now, let’s go join him.”

  Chapter 13

  Considering that the sun had yet to retire for the day, The Blackened Cauldron was busy. More so than Nessa had thought possible. Individuals jostled to get to the front of the large queue for the bar, eager to get a refill, and gatherings of friends milled around, laughing and gossiping boisterously. A number of tables closest to the bar and door were occupied by large groups of men enjoying their pints and a hearty meal. The windows were small and closed, and there was little in the way of natural light or fresh air. Thick wooden beams were only a few inches above Hunter’s head, the ceiling perilously low, and more than a few people were smoking, thin tendrils of haze drifting up from the tips of their cigars and pipes. The smell of tobacco and more questionable substances was almost overwhelming.

  Nessa’s eyes watered and her nose blocked up as Hunter led her further into the tap house, winding his way around tables, servers and a few people who staggered into his path. He was aiming for a dark corner that was cloistered from the rest of the tavern by a staircase that led to the upper floors. It was a secretive, little nook that hosted a couple of round tables that men loitered around, avidly watching a number of card games being played.

  Although his back was to them, Nessa instantly knew that one of them was Orm. His distinctive bald head glinted in the dim candlelight as he threw it back, laughing loudly. He was sat at one of the tables, a fan of splayed cards in one hand and a tankard in the other.

  “Guess you won the bet after all,” Nessa said.

  “What can I say?” Hunte
r grinned. “I have a gift when it comes to finding my gambling friend.”

  “Mmm, and your gambling friend certainly has a gift for finding somewhere that isn’t particularly family friendly.”

  “Well, Orm isn’t really a family-orientated man.”

  In all honesty, no one in the premises really looked like a family person. Other than Nessa and a handful of other women, mostly serving girls who looked like they could hold their own in a bar brawl, everyone was male. Whilst Nessa had to admit that the inn’s patrons didn’t look like complete scoundrels, they didn’t come across as outstanding members of society either.

  Some of the men keep looking at me.

  They’re not looking at you, Aoife said. They’re leering at you. There’s a difference.

  Thanks for that. Really reassuring.

  You’re welcome.

  Hunter stepped up behind Orm and clapped him on the shoulder, eyeing the stacks of coins sitting in front of him. “I see you’re having a winning streak, my friend.”

  Orm chortled, showing Hunter his play of cards. “The gods favour us this day.”

  “Indeed they do,” Hunter murmured, picking out one card and slotting it between two others, putting them into a neat order. “But we can’t trust you with all the winnings, now, can we?” He reached out and swiftly pocketed a couple of coin stacks, leaving Orm with just one. Orm pouted but then shrugged, raising his half-empty tankard to his lips, his attention sliding back to the game.

  “I don’t suppose Orm’s booked us a room, has he?” Nessa asked as Hunter straightened. “I don’t like how some of these people are looking at me.”

  Hunter peered around and scowled. The men in question, who—as Aoife put it—had been leering, quickly turned away, eyes pointedly focused elsewhere. “Why don’t you stay with Orm for a minute? I’ll go find whoever’s in charge and get us a room or two for the night.”

  “Fine,” Nessa sighed. “I’ll go hide in the corner. Out of sight.”

  “And while you hide in corners, you can hold this.” Hunter handed her the bundle of wrapped clothing he’d been carrying before ambling over towards the bar, weaving through the crowds and around tables.

  Nessa hugged her arms around the bundle as if it were a pillow, holding it tight to her chest. She crossed over to the stairs, where it was quieter. In the space under them, not visible to most of the room, was a pair of small booths. One was occupied by a group of young men who appeared a little worse for wear. A mess of empty rum bottles littered their table. They seemed oblivious to everything around them, thanks to their high levels of intoxication, which was probably why they hadn’t noticed the ominous figure sitting in the booth next to them.

  Nessa slipped in beside Chaos, setting the packaged clothing down on the table in front of her. Chaos turned his head as if he could actually see her. Nessa found the move a little disconcerting because he was eyeless and blindfolded, but she pushed away her unease and steeled her nerves. They were, after all, travelling partners. It wouldn’t do for her to be frightened by him all the time, especially not if she wanted to learn more about Old Bloods and magic. Witnessing Eliza shift her appearance had made a lot of questions arise, and since Orm was otherwise engaged, Nessa was hoping that Chaos would shed some light onto a few of them.

  Might.

  If she was lucky.

  Really lucky…

  “Did you have a nice wander around the town?” Nessa asked, trying for some polite small talk before launching into her inquisition.

  “Not really.”

  That wasn’t the answer she expected. Nessa pursed her lips, rethinking her approach. “Well, um…that’s a shame.”

  “Not really,” Chaos grunted. “It was what I had anticipated. Boring, little human town that it is.”

  “I thought the market was quite nice.”

  “Exactly how many markets do you have to compare it against?”

  Nessa sagged back against the chair, wishing that she had never opened her mouth. “None, I suppose, since I can’t remember anything.”

  “Precisely. So you’ll have to take my word for it.”

  “I guess I’ll have to.”

  “This is a very unremarkable little town. It is a boring little town that has only prospered to the state it’s in because it’s part of the black-market trade.”

  Chaos crossed his arms over his chest. “I find myself curious,” he said grudgingly, unwillingly. “What do you think I was doing around the town?”

  Nessa shrugged. She didn’t really care. After all, she was just temporarily aiming for some small talk. “Oh, I don’t know. You left us so soon that I sort of thought you were meeting up with a friend of yours. Another Old Blood, perhaps?”

  “Another Old Blood?” he scoffed. “Here? Margan really has done a number on your brain if you think an Old Blood would lower themselves to dwelling in a place like this.”

  The mention of Margan made Nessa’s spine straighten sharply.

  Ignore him, Aoife said quickly, sensing Nessa’s anger, her blossoming hurt. He speaks whatever comes to mind. I’m sure he means no insult.

  That was a horrible thing to say.

  I know, my little Rider. But be the better person and don’t retaliate. He probably doesn’t see how that came across.

  Bu—

  Hush, my little one. Water off a duck’s back, as the saying goes.

  “Why,” Hunter said brightly, “don’t the two of you look like you’ve been having a jolly old chitchat.” He came to stand by their booth.

  Nessa glared at him.

  Hunter held up a key. “Room 36 is all ours.”

  Nessa frowned. “Just room 36?”

  “It was the last room available. Possibly because it costs a small fortune.”

  “All four of us are sharing the same room?”

  “It’s a large room.”

  “This room is large, and yet it’s not quite large enough.”

  Hunter’s eyes slid to Chaos knowingly. “Well, there are beds, and I’ve organised for food and drinks to be brought up shortly, so you’ll just have to deal.”

  With a sigh, Nessa rose, grabbed her bundle of clothing and crossed over to the stairs, happy to have some space between her and their unsavoury companion. “You’re mean.”

  “I know.” Hunter waved her onwards. “Now up you go. A nice, warm, comfy bed awaits you.”

  “Is that a promise?”

  “A guarantee, apparently.”

  The stairs led up to a long, narrow hallway. Doors lined either side, all of them closed and with little number plaques nailed onto them. The only source of light came from a small, solitary window in the far wall.

  Nessa peered at the doors closest to her, trying to see the numbers. The hallway’s dimness didn’t make the job easy.

  “Our lovely hostess said that we’re on the top floor,” Hunter said, moving past her. “We have an attic room.”

  “Bloody damn stairs,” Chaos growled. “Makes my bones ache.”

  Nessa looked over her shoulder, finding that Chaos was a few steps shy of reaching the top stair. For a split second, Nessa felt pity and almost went to give him a helping hand. Then she reminded herself that there was more to Chaos than the blind old man guise. For that’s what it was: a guise, a cloak he wore which hid the fearsome, winged Old Blood that lurked beneath the surface. Nessa also reminded herself that he had just been particularly mean to her.

  Without feeling any guilt whatsoever, Nessa turned away from Chaos and hurried after Hunter.

  They went up a further two flights of stairs before they reached the end of their ascent. Nessa found herself waiting in a short entranceway while Hunter struggled with the door to their room. The lock stuck for a second, the tumblers refusing to turn.

  Hunter gave the key a peculiar little jiggle, and it finally unlocked. The door swung open.

  Hunter stepped into the room, looking it over with a critical eye. “Not too shabby, if I do say so myself.”

&n
bsp; “I think your opinion is a little biased,” Nessa said, moving past him.

  After seeing downstairs, Nessa had given up hope of having a pleasant night spent in a cosy inn’s guest room. She was expecting something rather plain and basic, and probably not quite as clean as she would have liked.

  However, as Nessa gazed around, she found herself pleasantly surprised.

  The attic room was large and spacious, the ceiling high and sloped, the beams rustically bare. One wall was exposed brickwork with a feature fireplace, and the window seats were quaintly tucked away in the pair of dormer windows. The wooden floor was covered in a collage of different coloured rugs, and the quartet of beds were neatly made with fresh linens. The air was free from any hint of dust or smoke, which was a nice change compared to downstairs. Nessa felt her nose starting to unblock.

  “Well,” Hunter said, “what do you think?”

  Nessa went over to the furthest bed and sat down, bouncing on the edge, testing the mattress “I think this is a lot nicer than what I was expecting.”

  “It should be, considering the price,” Hunter mumbled as he took the bed next to hers. “I’m pretty sure you could rent a small house for a month with what this room cost for the night.”

  “Oh.”

  “You know, I think there’s something strange with the women in this town.” Hunter flopped back on the mattress, tucking his hands behind his head. “I can’t seem to charm them like I can elsewhere. It’s a real pain.”

  “My heart bleeds for you.”

  “Oi! If we were anywhere else, with a smile and a twinkle in my eyes, I would have got this room for half the price.”

  Nessa chuckled. “Maybe you’re just not as good as you think you are, ever think of that?”

  “No, I haven’t. And you know why? Because the very idea is preposterous.” Hunter closed his eyes and wiggled, getting comfortable. “Not as good as I think I am, what a silly notion.”

  The door slammed open, hitting the wall behind it with a bang strong enough to make the furniture rattle. Startled, Hunter jolted, his body leaving the mattress for a comical second, his eyes wide and staring. Nessa clamped a hand over her chest, her heart doing shocked, little spasms as she watched Chaos come to stand in the doorway, filling it with his hunched form.