It was a glimpse. A pinhole of light in mankind’s darkness. Esven found it in the eyes of a prostitute at The Velvet Pearl.
It was the last place she would have ever thought to look.
“Thank you,” Esven uttered, finding the corners of her lips tugging up into a dim smile. “I appreciate you being so candid.”
The sparsely-clad maiden smirked as she pushed herself to her feet, having come to the end of her break. “Nothing to it at all, miss. Open honesty’s all many of us have left, and I always share what’s mine.” She flashed a final, charming look. “Mother didn’t raise me to be a selfish prick. Brigovia’s got too many of those as it is.”
Esven watched as the woman slipped through the crowd, off to find the next man who would slide more than just a coin into her palm. The witch felt surprisingly light. As if the disgust of the moment prior had melted away. She smiled, pushing herself back to her feet to enter the space with newfound confidence.
Amadeia must have seen far more people like The Velvet Pearl’s workers and far less like its patrons.
She found Balvonak in the gathering and leaned against the shared wall. “I’m ready to go,” she said.
A wry grin lived on his face as he spun to look at her. “Had enough already, aye?”
“It is what it is,” Esven replied, surprising the fire demon with her relaxed tone. “It is infested with parasites, yes, but if we burn them all, we also burn the host. These people might deserve a karmic kick to the stomach, Balvo, but I stand by what I said before. They do not deserve to die.”
Balvonak tried to stifle the disapproving frown that crawled onto his face, but failed to disguise it completely. “Is that so?” he muttered, glancing around the room. What had happened to her when he let her out of his sight? What could have possibly shifted her disgust so promptly? With his hands on his hips, Balvo clenched his jaw.
He’d have to keep a closer eye on her next time. He couldn’t run the risk of her failing to see things his way.
“All right, then.” The fire demon clapped his hands together and rubbed them. “If that is what you wish.” He was not short on ideas for places to take her. Shitty people lived around every corner. He needed only to wait for her strange coating of optimism to fade. They’d start fresh tomorrow, when time allowed her positivity to unravel. “I suggest we get a room for the night. There’s an inn not far from here. Lovely little place. The Slumbering Rabbit.”
With clear hesitation, Esven stepped away. “An inn?” she asked incredulously. “You and I?”
“Oh, get those immoral thoughts out of your head. You forget,” Balvo grinned, “I already had the pleasure of sharing your company under the same roof last night, and somehow, by nothing short of a miracle, we managed not to fall into bed with one another.”
The witch arched a brow and tensed at his joke. Balvo had the ability to bristle her skin with his crass behavior, but he did play the part of a gentleman when he spent the night in her home. “Fine,” she muttered, “but I haven’t any money to pay for a room.”
Assurance grew on the fire demon’s face. “Don’t you? Then what’s that behind your ear?” He reached out, pretending to pluck some coins from her hood, which he instead jostled out of his sleeve. Holding the currency between his fingers, he waved it in front of her face. “See that? You’re not the only one who can do magic around here.”
Despite everything, Esven found herself cracking a smile. She managed to keep her chuckle hidden inside, much as it wanted to free itself from her mouth. “That… was probably the most pathetic thing I’ve ever seen,” she said, her words jumping with concealed laughter.
“For today, maybe.” Balvo slid the coins into her hand, careful not to touch her skin. “Just wait until tomorrow.” He spread his hands out in front of his face, his eyes wide. “For you, my darling, I will drag humanity’s most pathetic creatures from the depths where they dwell.”
Esven’s shoulders shook with a short, surprising laugh. “If you say so. Lead the way, if it pleases you.”
Balvo beamed, finding an unexpected enjoyment in the sound of her laugh. “Nothing would please me more.”
As the pair exited the door, leaving The Velvet Pearl behind them, Elias stood on the far side of Pinesguard’s undesirable district. Walking through the valley of those who had fallen on the hardest times, filled the priest with more purpose than when he assisted those who were better off.
Elias could always find a lost soul in Pinesguard’s slums. Unfortunately, he often found more than he could handle. Frequent trips to the shadowed land eased the pain of many, but for every one he helped with a meal or a coin from the church treasury, ten more suffered behind them.
Lifting an arm, Elias wiped away the sweat that accumulated on his forehead. It almost felt hotter on this side of Pinesguard. As if the sun, itself, punished the poor. He failed to believe it, handing out another split loaf of bread to a haggard looking man who approached him.
Another day down. Four more until he could check on Esven.
Elias bit the side of his cheek when he heard the clopping hooves of an approaching horse. De’Savaria had practically glued himself to the priest’s hip over the last several days.
Ever since Father Asher fell from the church’s good graces, the leader of the Brotherhood had always kept a keen eye on Elias. His close proximity was nothing new. Whether he thought Elias teetered on the same sinful edge that Father Asher flirted with, the priest had no earthly clue.
All he knew was that he would not mind one day where he did not hear the footfalls of De’Savaria’s horse.
“Father Deverell.” De’Savaria came up beside him, casting his judgmental eyes upon the man once more.
Elias inhaled deeply, shielding his vision from the sun as he looked up. “De’Savaria. To what do I owe the pleasure this time?”
The man huffed, pulling on his horse’s reigns to steady it. “I saw you approaching the slums again to tend to the… undesirables.” His disdainful look flew across the whole of the area before he returned it to Elias. “I thought I would accompany you. One can never be too careful among these men. Desperation can make them turn violent quickly.”
“I have been assisting the men and women here for years now.” Elias turned his back to the Brotherhood’s leader, reaching over to hand out the last half of his bread. “I like to think that if they meant me any harm, I would have encountered it by now.”
“I like to think many things, Father Deverell.” De’Savaria squared his shoulders, his expression unclear. “Most of all, I like to think that my priest would be spared from the con-artists of this place.”
Elias chuckled and shook his head. “There are no con-artists here.” He looked beyond the man, soaking in the sights of the residents in Pinesguard’s slums. “I know there are certain places of ill repute here,” he said, glancing in the direction of The Velvet Pearl. “But there isn’t a soul around who I don’t trust with—”
His sentence ended abruptly. Elias stared, wide-eyed, as Balvo escorted Esven Greenbriar from the front door of The Velvet Pearl. He’d recognize her flowing, rosy hair and red cloak anywhere. He tried to correct himself, stumbling over his words.
The strange man from the market. The one whose curiosity centered around the Greenbriar name. Was she in danger in his company? He couldn’t tell from the distance, but she seemed to be… smiling?
Elias laid a hand over his stomach to steady his uneasy nerves. He needed to get a hold of himself. He did not know what would happen if De’Savaria caught sight of Esven. Whether or not he’d recognize her as the young woman he pulled out of Amadeia Greenbriar’s household six months past needed to be determined. And if he did recognize her—his actions against her were to be determined as well. Elias did not want to risk raising any unnecessary flags. Not before he had a chance to get Esven to the safety of his church. “—with my life,” he finished, clearing his throat.
De’Savaria was slow to lift a brow. He studied the p
riest’s face before he craned his neck, trailing after the direction Elias had looked.
“De’Savaria—” Elias blurted, reaching out a hand.
His sudden action earned him the Brotherhood leader’s attention.
“You—you have served me well as of late. Always a capable man, willing to lend himself where he is needed.” Elias steeled his jaw as he sucked in a bit of air. “The church would like to thank you for your services. Would you humble a young priest with your presence for dinner and a blessing?”
De’Savaria stared at Elias, his offer coming as somewhat of a shock. He had served the church for most of his adult life and never once was invited to share a holy meal with the priest. A free dinner was far from the worst thing a man could find at his table. Better still that Elias’ blessing would vindicate all the good he had done for Brigovia as of late. “All right, Father Deverell.” De’Savaria bowed his head from atop his stallion. “Just tell me when and I’ll be there.”
Elias needed to get him out of the area. He shoved his hands into his sleeves. “Would tonight be too short of a notice?”
“Tonight?”
The priest cleared his throat. “It breaks my heart that it has taken me this long to thank you properly for all you’ve done. Best not to let it slip by unheeded any longer.”
It took him a moment, but De’Savaria found himself nodding. “As you wish, Father.” He sat a little taller. “It would be my honor.” With a small look of pride, he guided the horse to turn as he gazed down at Elias. “Pardon my quick exit. If I’m to dine in the house of Brigovia’s creator, I must make myself ready.”
Elias lifted a hand to bid him farewell. “Yes, of course. I will see you tonight.”
The horse cut its way through the streets, clopping down the cobbled stone, until it rounded a bend and disappeared from sight. Elias felt his shoulders drop as he shifted his focus back to where he had last seen Esven.
She was gone.
Moving about at the peoples’ feet, however, a black shadow crept. Elias took a step forward, narrowing his eyes.
Maritimus.
The priest hurried in the feline’s direction, looking around to be sure nobody would think him mad for chasing after the beast. “Maritimus!” he whispered as loudly as he could, scuttling after the cat as the sun hid behind one of Pinesguard’s taller buildings. “Maritimus, do stop, I beg you.”
The silent footsteps of the cat stilled. Maritimus paused, his ears rolling forward on his skull as he found Elias cutting across the street. He stared at the priest with curious eyes as wide as the moon.
Elias glanced around, surveying his surroundings once more before he knelt beside the creature. “Where is Esven?” he whispered, pulling his hood up over his head.
Maritimus twitched a whisker. He pulled his eyes to the right, down the narrow street that led to The Slumbering Rabbit. Checking to be sure Elias watched him, the cat waltzed in the inn’s direction, his tail high in the air to serve as a beacon.
It was not the time to feel foolish for taking directions from a cat. Elias righted his position and followed, weaving through every turn Maritimus took.
The feline stopped below a wooden sign. It swung above him, blown by the wind. Each gust summoned a low creak from the aging wood. Painted in bold red letters, it read: ‘The Slumbering Rabbit’.
“The inn?” Elias dropped his eyes to Maritimus, the hint of panic in his tone. “With that Balvo fellow? Are you absolutely sure?”
Maritimus flattened his ears, offended that the priest would even dare to doubt his certainty.
With a frown, Elias stared at the building’s doorway. He tried to pour a sense of calm into his rigid arms, but only achieved minor success. He couldn’t make a scene—couldn’t burst in, asking to rent a room for the evening. What would people think, witnessing their priest enter the inn whose reputation doubled as a substitute for The Velvet Pearl? He already risked much simply by standing outside its door.
A decision needed to be made. He did not have much time before De’Savaria were to find himself at the church’s doors. Elias shuddered to think of the kind of negative attention he’d earn from De’Savaria if he failed to show for the dinner he’d invited him to, not moments ago.
Elias rubbed the side of his face and let out a sigh, looking down once more at the black animal near his feet. “Maritimus, I know I am not your favorite person. Why, I haven’t the slightest clue. Perhaps your favor cannot be bought with fish, my friend, but please… you must do me one kindness. Tell me the truth. Will Esven be safe with that man until the morning?”
Maritimus stared up at him, blinking only once. No alarm lived in the feline’s eyes as he curled his tail around his sitting body.
Elias read his calm exterior. He nodded, taking the message for what it was, though he did not like the answer. “Very well. I know I can trust you to keep a sharp eye on her, can’t I?”
The cat gave no reply, gazing at the priest as a statue might.
“Right,” Elias muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. He couldn’t understand the cat, but his body language spoke loudly. “Of course you will. Foolish of me to ask.” He sighed once more, walking backwards as he took several steps away from the establishment. The thought of Esven huddled in a small room with that unreadable character left feelings in Elias’ body that he wished were not present. They didn’t belong there. Not in the heart of a holy man.
He reached up and laid a closed fist over his chest. The church. He needed to return. In the comfort of those walls, Elias could clear his sinful sentiments from his head. The grace of Brigovia’s creator would cleanse him.
“If anything goes wrong,” he uttered to Maritimus, “and I do mean anything at all… come find me. De’Savaria himself could not stop me from coming, no matter the consequence.”
Maritimus continued to stare, offering Elias nothing more than one quick blink.
The priest accepted it and nodded his head. “May the Angel Lord’s light shine upon you, my friend.” Wrapping his robes tighter around his body, Elias tore himself away from The Slumbering Rabbit’s doors. He needed to hurry back to the church to prepare for De’Savaria’s arrival.
As he cut through the district in the dimming light, and headed for the center of town, the priest found himself lamenting. Esven was closer than ever, and yet untouchable. He had to believe she was safe. Maritimus indicated as much.
Elias thought the four days that separated him from visiting Esven Greenbriar would be long enough… but the evening that awaited him before he returned to find her in the morning, would almost certainly feel like an eternity.
Chapter Eight
The church was Pinesguard’s finest architectural achievement. Crafted with the artistic eyes of Brigovia’s most talented men, it rose into the sky with a certain majesty. Surrounding buildings could not match its grace. De’Savaria looked at it often, finding a sense of purpose each time he spied the gothic towers that crawled up into the clouds.
They climbed so high. He bet the Angel Lord himself could reach down and touch them, if He wanted.
De’Savaria slicked back his finished hair, double-checking to be sure no strand moved outside of its place. He dusted off his arms, smoothing the invisible wrinkles from his finest garments. He needed to look presentable. As presentable as he ever did when he entered the sanctity of the church.
This evening was a touch more special than his daily service attendance. Tonight, he dined with the priest. The mouth of Brigovia’s god. With the holy man’s blessing, he could finally feel himself making headway. Progress. All that he fought for seemed more attainable.
He approached the main door, his eyes trailing over the ornate carvings decorating the outside. It was an honor to dine at such a sacred table.
De’Savaria frowned. An honor, indeed. He only hoped that Father Deverell was not an imposter. Not like the man who mentored him. The damnable William Asher.
The man closed his eyes and raised his hand, touchin
g the center of his forehead with his middle finger. He slid it down the bridge of his nose, his chin, his neck, and stopped at the center of his chest. The holy gesture that symbolized the Angel Lord’s love, entering the mind, and flowing to the throat, and resting at the heart.
“My wife and I thank You for the opportunity to dine in Your graces,” he whispered under his breath, turning his eyes skyward. “I hope You see that the part of her I carry in my heart, remains faithful to You.”
His prayer earned him no reply. De’Savaria wet his lips with his tongue before he reached for the door’s handle.
The man on the other side of the door beat him to it. With a low groan, the vast entry opened, unveiling Elias as he stood inside. Donned in his typical garb, the robed priest nodded. “Welcome, De’Savaria.” He stepped aside, gesturing for the Brotherhood’s leader to enter.
A nod of acknowledgement was given to Elias before De’Savaria stepped out of the moon’s light, and into the belly of the cathedral. Flickering candles cast warm glows over the interior, molding over the books, the pews, the sculpted imagery of Brigovia’s Angel Lord and His legion. “Thank you for having me,” he murmured, offering Elias a bow.
The priest smiled. “Through here,” he said, guiding De’Savaria through an adjacent corridor, and into a banquet hall. “The finishing touches are being put upon the dinner. Please,” he slid out a chair, “take a seat.”
De’Savaria cleared his throat as he lowered himself into the chair that Elias had pulled out for him. The table was elegant in its simplicity. A flowing white linen spread across its length. It was enormous—far more than two men needed to share a humble meal.
But two was all it was. No one else moved in the banquet hall as Elias found a chair opposite from where De’Savaria sat.
The Brotherhood’s leader reached out, investigating the pieces of silverware that sat on the table. “It’s nice to be recognized for all that I have done in Brigovia,” he announced, content to break the silence.
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