After some debate, the group had decided it best that Ansel and Mara go alone into Oxrest to buy supplies while the others hid in the forest beyond. They didn’t want to cause a scene, and Mara could think of nothing more scene-inducing than a dark-skinned foreigner or a woman covered in scars. Especially once she started threatening to kill everyone, Mara chuckled to herself. Now she was regretting the decision to bring Ansel. At least Mikkal wouldn’t have been this flighty, but the stoic protector refused to leave Steel’s side.
As they drew nearer to town, the hairs on her neck stood on end. Something was off. On the surface, everything appeared perfect, but it was quiet. Too quiet. There was no laughter. No children running in the streets, playing their fantastical games. No people mingling about at all. It felt abandoned.
Ansel made a whining noise and looked over his shoulder for the sixty-third time. “Mara, I don’t like this…”
“Yeah, me either, but we have a mission,” she said, trudging forward like an obedient soldier, the gravel road crunching beneath her feet. After the incident outside of the Ghost Keep, the others still didn’t trust her. If she could do this one thing to help them, maybe they would open up more and start sharing their plans. It was worth a shot.
“Wouldn’t it be better to turn back now?” Ansel’s hand hovered over his sword as he looked behind him, yet again.
“And go back empty handed?” She flicked his ear, growing irritated. She’d had quite enough of his jitters for one day. “Stop glancing around like that! Remember your cover and we won’t get caught. We’re Jan and John Miller, siblings on our way to the capital. We came to Oxrest to purchase supplies for our trip. Got it?”
Mara paused outside a large gray building with blue shutters and a sign above the door that declared it ‘The General Store.’ She walked inside, the picture of nonchalance.
“I got it, I got it,” Ansel grumbled, crossing the threshold behind her. “Oh wow. Look at all this!”
Row upon row of goods lined the shelves: fabric, grains, candles, cooking pots and more. Mara picked up a basket and walked down each aisle, collecting everything they would need for the journey. Ansel planted himself in front of a display of brightly-colored candies meant to entice children half his age. He smiled over at her, eyes shining with excitement, before grabbing a paper sack and shoveling it full.
“What are you doing?”
“Hey, you’re getting all the practical stuff.” He motioned at her basket with the candy scoop. “So, I’m in charge of the fun stuff.”
Mara rolled her eyes and picked up a sack of oats. “Fine, but don’t complain when you get a stomach ache.” She emptied her basket on the counter at the back of the store and, after a quick sniff, added a few bars of goat’s milk soap to the pile.
A display of knives and daggers caught her eye from behind the counter. A dual-bladed knife stood out above the rest. Instead of a hilt, a row of metal rings connected the two blades. “Ansel, come check this out! Wynn would love this.”
Ansel glanced at the knife. “Sure, right before she stabs you with it.”
“What kin I do ya for?”
Mara jumped, spinning around and coming face-to-face with a man of impressive size. He peered down his bulbous nose at her, red beard jutting out from his jaw like a porcupine. He wiped his hands on his white apron before resting them on his hips.
She forced a smile, hoping it didn’t look like a grimace. “My brother and I are headed to Merrowhaven, and we need to purchase supplies for the journey.”
“To Merrowhaven!” Ansel chimed in, somehow thinking he was helping. Mara elbowed him in the ribs, keeping her smile plastered in place.
The shopkeeper’s eyes narrowed. He tapped the table with his sausage-like fingers, making a humming sound in the back of his throat. “Bit late in the season for travelling, doncha think?”
Mara’s heart skipped a beat as she stuttered through their cover story. “We have an uncle who lives in the capital. Our father wishes for us to overwinter there. Experience some city life, you know?”
“More’n likely he just wants two less mouths to feed.” The shopkeeper chuckled, relaxing a fraction. “Sorry I’m a bit jumpy. Word is some fugitives might be passing through. The Order says they’re a dangerous bunch.”
“Fugitives!”
The shopkeeper misinterpreted her reaction and rushed to reassure her. “Oh, don’t you worry your pretty little head, Miss. The Guardian will catch em right fast.” The shopkeeper moved behind the counter and began to tally up their items. “Name’s Bill. Don’t get many visitors round here.”
“John and Jan Miller. Like my sister said, we’re just here to buy some supplies,” Ansel said, settling into his character. Finally! He browsed a row of honey and jam, picking two at random and setting them on the counter. “If you don’t mind me asking, where is everyone?”
Bill patted his ample girth with one hand while scratching his chin with the other. “Ah, folk are a bit rattled with the Guardian roaming the streets. Superstitious, the lot of em. Wits addled, iffin ya know what I mean. Oh, they’ll stay holed up like a bunch of spineless rabbits until the threat is gone.”
“I see,” Ansel said, setting a bag of grain and some hard biscuits on the counter. “Well, that’s probably the smart thing to do if these fugitives are as dangerous as the Order says.”
“Pah, it’s nothing, really. Me? I keep my shop open. No tellin’ what sort of folk might be passin’ through.” Bill leveled his gaze at Mara and, for a moment, she was convinced he could see through their ruse. Sweat beaded on her forehead and her hand twitched once towards her dagger.
“That’s very considerate of you, Bill. And brave, considering there are ruthless criminals about,” Ansel said.
“No bother. I ain’t spineless like the rest.” He turned his piercing eyes to Mara, causing her to squirm. “Now, Miss, I can’t help but notice your boots are lookin’ mighty rough. Wouldn’t mind throwing in a length of elk leather to patch em up. With your purchase, of course. It’s sturdy, but nice an’ soft for those dainty feet of yours.”
Mara glanced at the deep gash running along the side of her boot, right where the rock had landed on it. “That would be, umm… kind. Thank you.”
“Mind me askin’ how they got damaged?” Bill moved to the racks of leather along the back of the shop, pulling out a pair of shears. “Seems you’re walkin’ with a bit of a limp, too.”
“Uhh,” Mara said, her mind going blank. “I fell?”
Ansel sidled up to her, placing an embroidery kit on the counter with a wink. “Don’t mind my sister. She’s just embarrassed. I told her at least a hundred times not to climb on that rock, but she’d insisted that she saw a troll.”
Bill threw back his head as he chortled. “Ah, leave it to the womenfolk. Their heads are full of fantasy, eh?” He clipped off a reasonable amount of leather and held it up for inspection.
“It was a fine troll,” Mara said, trying to play along. She nodded her head at the cut of leather.
“There’s a cobbler at the end of the lane who could mend them for ya, iffin ya have the time.” Bill rolled it up, tying it with a piece of twine, and set it on the counter.
“Thank you, again,” Mara said, “but we’re in a bit of a hurry. Need to get to Merrowhaven before the first snow, you understand.”
“You sure? Miss Betsy makes a fine mutton stew. Best in the country, I’d wager. A nice, hot meal would do ya good.”
“As my sister said, we really must be going,” Ansel said, adding several packets of dried meats, fruits and nuts to their growing pile. “But we do appreciate your help.”
Mara’s stomach rumbled at the thought of real food for a change. She wanted to contradict Ansel, but every second they spent in Oxrest increased the chance of them being discovered. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something horrible would happen if they lingered longer than necessary.
Bill eyed the massive stack of food with obvious disbelief. “Sure
is quite a lot of vittles for just the two of ya…”
Ansel shrugged. “It’s a long journey, after all, and neither of us is much of a hunter. Better to have too much than too little.”
“Fair enough. Can I get ya anything else?” Bill said, scratching a total on a piece of paper.
“Wait! Yes,” Mara said, wincing at her anxious tone. She pointed at the dual-bladed knife. “Yes, please. How much is that dagger there?”
Bill frowned. “That knife is far too manly for a lady. Might I suggest something more demure?”
Far too manly… Mara opened her mouth to give the shopkeeper a firm scolding, but Ansel interrupted. “My sister is obviously worried about the fugitives. I know I would sleep better if I knew she had a weapon at her side. How much would it cost?”
“Hmm, maybe another twenty bits. That weapon is one-of-a-kind, mark my words,” Bill said, eying them both with more than a little skepticism.
“Done!” Mara fumbled with her coin purse, pulling out a single gold piece and turning it over to the portly shopkeeper. She glanced over her shoulder at the doorway. The sooner they could leave, the better.
Bill frowned, biting it between his teeth. “Huh, can’t say I ever saw one of these before. Where’d ya say you was from?”
“Our father is a merchant. Said he got it from some shop in Crystalmoor a while back,” Ansel lied smoothly. “Will that be enough to cover our purchase?”
“Sure is! I’ll go get you your change,” Bill said, disappearing into the back room.
Five minutes passed by and the shopkeeper still hadn’t returned.
“I don’t like this, Ansel. What if he suspects something?” Mara whispered, shifting her weight from foot to foot. She glanced over at the doorway again. Should they make a run for it? They already paid for the supplies, so it wasn’t like they were stealing or anything.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Mara. He’s probably just trying to scrape together enough coin for our change.” Ansel fished a candy from the bag and popped it in his mouth.
Another five minutes went by. Mara went over the entire transaction in her mind. Did something stand out that made him suspicious? She chewed on her lip, wincing when she tasted blood.
Bill emerged from the back room, shaking his head. “Sorry ‘bout the wait. Took me longer than I thought to find enough coin.”
Ansel threw her a look that said, ‘I told you so,’ before turning to Bill. “Thank you, sir. Oh, by chance, is there a place where we can purchase horses around here?” Ansel asked, pocketing the money and bagging up their rations.
“Stable’s at the end of the road. Don’t let ol’ Sam rob ya blind though.” Bill wrapped the knife in cloth and reluctantly handed it to Mara. “Miss… don’t go cutting yourself on this.”
“I’ll try not to.”
“All right then. Safe trip, folks.”
They thanked him again, splitting the heavy bags between them. Ansel and Mara stepped out into the empty street and headed toward the stable.
“He seemed nice,” Ansel said, an extra swagger in his step. He reached over and punched her shoulder lightly. “Don’t know what you were so worried about.”
“You’re one to talk. When we first got here, you were scared of your own shadow.”
“True, and I was wrong. Yeah, I was tense at first. But think about it. Everybody’s hiding because of the fugitives, so we can avoid curious eyes.”
“I thought Bill said they were hiding because of the Guardian? Forget the horses, Ansel. Let’s just go before we’re caught.”
“Nah, I haven’t seen any signs of the Order, have you? Maybe they moved on already?”
“You were saying?” Mara stopped as two disciples rounded the corner, heading in their direction. She searched for a place to hide before they were spotted.
A pair of strong arms came out of nowhere, grabbing hold of their collars and yanking them unceremoniously through a doorway. Startled, Mara dropped her bags in a heap. Ansel recovered first and scrambled for his sword. Mara sank into a defensive crouch. She raised her head and balled her fists, half-expecting to see the Guardian. Or a disciple, at the very least.
Reality was not what she expected.
The tiny woman barely came to Mara’s shoulder in height and her silver-white hair fell down to her ankles in a solid sheen. Mara stared, wondering how this slip of a woman had managed to manhandle both her and Ansel. A wrinkled face set with vacant eyes stared back.
“Who are you?” Mara asked, dropping her fists to her sides when the woman made no move to attack them. Ansel rubbed his eyes and blinked. He looked as though his entire manhood was called into question.
“Ruby, Ruby, silver and gold,” the woman babbled, eyes glazed over with a small smile on her face.
“Ruby? Your name is Ruby?” Mara asked. She glanced around the sparse interior of the house— it’s only furniture a wooden chair and table— looking for a secondary exit. No way was she going back out into the street. Not with the disciples roaming outside. Mara felt a pang of sympathy at the lack of decorations and comforts. If it weren’t for the woman in front of them, she would have thought it abandoned.
The woman, Ruby, nodded. “Ruby, Ruby, very old.” She skipped over, patting Mara on the head and pinching Ansel’s cheeks. “The scorpion and his sting, beware. A scheming mouse, a foxglove snare.”
Mara and Ansel exchanged baffled looks. “Umm, okay. What’s that supposed to mean?” Mara frowned. Was this whole nutter act a ruse?
Ansel peeked out the window, face paling as the two disciples paused outside. “Mara, we need to get out, now. The Order is coming!” They ducked low, keeping out of sight.
Ruby swayed, as if to music only she could hear. “Order of hate, Order of lies. Cloaked friend, blessings disguised.”
“How do they keep finding us so fast?” Mara whispered, trying to tune out Ruby’s mindless ramblings. Ansel raised his head to look outside and Mara yanked him back down. “Get down, you idiot, before they see you!”
“Rising seas, turning tide, taking back what’s been denied…” Ruby waltzed around the room, humming a little tune.
“Can’t she be quiet? We’re trying to hide!” Ansel growled.
“Bacon and ham are oh so nice. An arm, a leg, its hefty price.”
Mara glanced at the woman. Something terrible must have happened to her to take her sanity like this.
Ruby darted forward, plucking something out of Mara’s tunic. Mara’s hand went to the hidden pocket… the scroll from the Ghost Keep! The instant Ruby’s hand touched the ancient parchment, she stiffened. Her voice took on an unearthly depth as she intoned. “The child of the black sun will rise, and bring about the star’s demise.” Ruby smiled, reaching out to tuck a lock of hair behind Mara’s ear before caressing her cheek. “Do say hello to my sister when you get to Tregydar.”
Ansel whipped around, hands balling into fists. “How did you know where we were heading?”
A sudden movement from the window distracted Mara. “Uhh, Ansel?”
A man of imposing height stood in the street staring at their hiding spot, his arms folded loosely on his chest. His salt-and-pepper hair was cropped close to his scalp and his sleeveless midnight-blue robes showed off arms as thick as her thighs. Tattoos snaked up his forearms, each a testament of a life taken in service to the Order.
Mara trembled. The Guardian was everything she imagined and more— a veritable nightmare come to life. Parents in Stonehollow would often tell tales of the Guardians to their children to get them to cooperate. ‘Behave, or the Guardian will snatch you away in your sleep.’
“What’s the plan?” Mara whispered as Ansel crouched next to her on the floor.
“Exit out the back. Don’t get caught.”
“Obviously. What about Ruby?”
“What about her? There’s a Guardian out there!”
“We can’t just leave her! They’ll kill her for helping us.” Mara looked back to where Ruby had been standing, bu
t she was nowhere to be seen. “Wait, where did she go?”
A flash of white caught their attention and they watched from the window as Ruby floated over to the Guardian. She stood on her toes, planting a palm on either side of his cheeks. She pulled his face down to hers and pressed a firm kiss on his stunned mouth. Ruby patted him on the arm, threw a saucy wink over her shoulder, and skipped down the road without a care in the world.
“Okay, that was, by far, the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to us,” Ansel said.
“Agreed. Now let’s go!” They gathered their bags, making their way to the rear of the house. Mara breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of a back door and pushed her way outside. She pulled up short at the sight of six horses, each saddled and tied to a fence.
“Make that the second weirdest. Who was that woman?”
“No idea. Do you think the horses are for us?”
Ansel tucked their supplies inside the saddlebags. “Must be. But frankly, I don’t care. They’re our ticket out of Oxrest.”
Mara approached the nearest horse, a dappled gray mare, holding her hand out. “Umm, nice horsie?”
Ansel batted her hand away. “What are you doing? Do you want to get bitten?”
“They can bite?” she hissed, eyes rounded. “How am I supposed to know that? I’ve never ridden a horse before!”
A loud crash resounding from the front of the house silenced his reply. Ansel lifted her with ease, setting her on the saddle. “No time for a lesson now,” he said, mounting his horse in one fluid motion. He grabbed the leads of the four other horses and tied them to his saddle. “Just… don’t fall off.”
That was reassuring. They kicked their horses and trotted out of sight as fast as possible.
Chapter Thirteen
“So, yer tellin’ us this crazy old lady who only spoke in riddles, kissed a Guardian and lived to tell about it? Oh, and she left exactly six horses, even though there was just the two of ya?” Wynn struggled to mount her horse. As if sensing her inexperience, the animal continued to step away each time her foot touched the stirrup.
Dreg (The Dreg Trilogy Book 1) Page 12