Page 28

CHAPTER 28

AURIA

T he storm had finally let up, raining sunshine down on the town. Lander had gotten over his frustration at being placed in a separate house once he’d heard Bowen had helped me in the caves, and after he saw Siara and Raiden had stood up for me in the dining hall yesterday morning. Paxon was less inclined to change his opinion, as I’d expected after his stunt with Hanklie.

Lander had visited last night to check on me, and despite the late hour he’d stopped by, I’d found it at least comforting to know he cared in the slightest. He’d likely spent his day gambling, the scent of cigar smoke clinging to him giving his whereabouts away. With a brother like Paxon, I didn’t blame Lander for using it as a stress reliever.

The choice Paxon had presented me with loomed over my head like a lingering cloud. I got the feeling that with the way he’d held me over the chasm, controlling whether I lived or fell to my death in that moment, if I chose wrong, he’d make sure I paid for it.

His threat hung clear in the air, and since that day at the chasm, it was all I could think about. My mind was once again a prison with my thoughts, though this time, I had a choice. And while I didn’t typically have those, I wasn’t feeling very grateful for it now, rather wishing I didn’t have a decision to make altogether.

Oh, how the irony was excruciating.

I assumed Bowen was under the impression that I was doing well here in Deadwood, aside from the little spurts of tension, and yet, my head was darker than any cave, deeper than any chasm, overflowing with spiraling thoughts I couldn’t keep straight. I wasn’t weak only in my body, but also my mind. I couldn’t get a grip on it, even when faced with a life or death decision. What strength was found in that?

A knock sounded on the door, and I walked over from where I was seated in my living room. I opened it to find Lander standing with his hands tucked into his coat pockets, much like the night before. His jacket had somehow survived the attack, and though I was certain he wore borrowed clothes underneath, he made sure to wear the colors of his kingdom every day.

“Busy?” he asked with a raised brow.

“What would I possibly be busy with?” I hadn’t meant to sound so snappy, but I was stressed. The deadline to be back in Amosite was just around the corner, and with the bridge down, I knew we wouldn’t make it.

“Aside from some meals and nearly getting yourself killed in a cave, you’ve been holed up in this house. Might I interest you in a tour?”

A laugh escaped me. “You’re not from Deadwood. How might you give me a tour?”

With a barely-there shrug, he said, “Well, with not much else to do, I’ve come to find I’m quite the tourist.”

I raised a single brow. “And that makes you qualified to show me around?”

He gave a mock bow. “It’d be my honor.”

I rolled my eyes, but stepped outside to join him. After a quick look at the clothes I’d chosen this morning to be sure they were appropriate, I closed the door. It was a warm day, but the knee-length dress wasn’t suffocating. For a short stroll, I’d be fine.

We walked alongside each other in the direction of the main strip through town. I was thankful Paxon hadn’t accompanied him, as my answer to tag along surely would have been much different if he had. With the way Paxon watched me, I wanted to stay far away from him if I could help it. That thought in mind, I figured the easy answer to his ultimatum would be not to choose Paxon’s offer, but to continue on with my marriage to Lander. It was the safer option of the two, but something made me believe I’d live to regret it.

I glanced at Lander as we walked. “May I ask you a personal question?”

“Go ahead,” he replied.

“What’s your power?”

“Power?”

I nodded. “Everyone has them, don’t they?” It’s what my father had told me growing up, but it was so personal to each person that they kept it a secret. It was why I couldn’t talk about my own.

“Humans don’t have magic. We mine for it,” he said matter-of-factly.

That couldn’t be right. Maybe he was just confused by how I had phrased it. “Right, but aside from the magic in the earth. Everyone surely has their own power.”

He shook his head. “Fae did, but humans have never.”

My steps nearly faltered as we continued walking, his words blowing apart the fragments of my mind. Was he keeping it a secret, thinking my father wouldn’t want me to discuss this either? Or was he being serious?

“Why?” he asked, pulling me from the spiral I was surely headed toward.

I kept my focus on the ground ahead of me. “Just curious.”

With my response, he thankfully dropped it. I wanted to question him further, but also didn’t want to raise alarm bells. What if he thought I was going insane, coming up with theories and losing my mind being outside of Amosite?

We turned onto the main street to find people walking about every which way. A few children were playing with marbles in the dirt, and on the porch beside them sat an elderly woman patching a hole in a piece of clothing. Guards clad in all leather with protective padding stitched into their outfits stood outside buildings, a few speaking with townspeople in casual conversation. It was unlike what I’d seen in Silicate during my brief visit, where they didn’t correspond with the citizens. They simply did their job and kept everyone in order.

The sizzle of meat on a grill sounded from the market as a man stood outside cooking. A woman with graying hair emerged from the open door to the store to hand him a wooden bowl of what seemed to be more marinated protein.

“Fae were people, like us?” I asked Lander, clearly unable to drop what he’d said.

He nodded as we continued on our way. Three horses were tied out front of the next establishment, their riders somewhere inside what looked to be some sort of repair shop. With a quick peek inside the open door, I saw hats, saddles, and other leather items strewn about on shelves and racks, giving the impression they repaired all sorts of things in there.

“In some of the books I’ve read, they portray them as beasts able to subdue humans. Very few talk of them being just like us. Normal looking, civil,” Lander supplied.

“What do the others describe them as?”

He tilted his head in thought, the sun beating down on his lightly freckled cheek. “Monsters. There are drawings of them with horns of all shapes and sizes, pointed ears, fangs. It’s hard to believe creatures like that walked our land once.”

A woman with dark blue hair tied up in a high ponytail passed us, her narrowed gaze trained on me. She passed without a word, her look anything but comforting.

“Do you believe the stories?” I asked Lander, shaking off the shiver her gaze elicited.

He shrugged. “Hard to trust anything written in those books when anyone can get their hands on them. I guess I’m more of a believe it when I see it type of guy. What about you?”

I watched as a plume of dirt rose up in the air as a horse pawed at the ground on the other side of the street. “I never know what to believe anymore.”

We stopped outside of a dark red building, the paint chipping off in various places, revealing sun-bleached wood and spots of decay.

“This is my stop,” he said, looking up at the sign above the door.

“Barter’s Hell?” I read aloud. I guessed the tour was over.

He smiled, though it shone with a hint of shame. “Not much to do in this run-down town.”

“I wouldn’t tell the residents that,” I advised.

“I’ll chalk it up to my bad habits, then.”

“That was more like a stroll than a tour,” I joked, not really caring if he showed me every building or simply kept me company for a time.

He shrugged, a hint of a smile pulling at his mouth. “I never said it’d be an eventful tour.”

“Can I come with?” I had nothing else to do but aimlessly walk around, and it might be fun to try my hand at a game or two.

His smile fell as he eyed me. “You don’t peg me as the gambling type.”

I shrugged. “One can always learn.”

He hesitated a moment before opening the rickety door and waving me in. “After you, my lady.”

Excitement rang through my veins as I stepped over the threshold. Musty air and the pungent smell of ale hit my nose, the combination only lighting my curiosity like a match. The dark room was littered with tables, men and women alike sitting on barstools and worn chairs. At our appearance, heads swiveled our way. A few raised their noses at me as Lander led us through the maze of the bar, and I did my best to keep my eyes downcast, as if I was worried about my footing. Granted, the floor was quite a mess, so stepping over spilled alcohol or shards of glass was necessary.

“Would you like a drink?” Lander asked as we rounded the far end of the bar.

I felt compelled to decline, but something about being in Deadwood, in this gambling den, turned me into someone else entirely. “Sure.”

He ordered two drinks, sliding one in front of me as he paid. Before walking off, I took a sip, my nose instantly scrunching at the pungent taste.

“Deadwood likes their alcohol strong,” Lander said, a tilt to his lips at my reaction. Since being here, he’d grown a slight shadow along his jaw, the blond hair growing in quick.

“You’ve been here that many times already to know that?”

Once we got to the back of the bar, he held a door open, and just in his casualness with finding the entrance, it confirmed what I’d thought. He knew this place like the back of his hand.

“I’ve a curious mind,” he said as I passed.

The next room was dark, the windows—all two of them—covered in black cloth. Smoke hung in little clouds, swirling through the tables in the musky air. Men and women were scattered about, playing games of poker. A few of them had ink that swirled up their necks, some with designs climbing so high that they disappeared under their hair. Large men full of muscle and stern expressions stood around, keeping an eye on the competitions. I didn’t want to find out why their presence was necessary.

Some of the men had women perched on their knees with a delicate touch to their chests or shoulders, keeping them company while they puffed on cigars and played their cards. It was hard to imagine Lander as one of them, but I remembered it was the gambling he was addicted to. Not the girls.

Naturally, I would’ve been put off by the murky scent enveloping the establishment, but I welcomed it with a deep inhale. Though I instantly regretted it, I didn’t hate the smell. It was different than I was used to, and for that, I welcomed it.

“Ah, Lander,” a man said from one of the tables.

We both turned in his direction, finding a pudgy middle-aged man puffing on a cigar, watching us along with the rest of his table. By the looks of them, it seemed their game had just ended.

“Perkins,” Lander replied. “Great day so far?”

“It would be if you’d pay up already,” Perkins huffed, his salt-and-pepper mustache moving as he spoke.

“I’m working on it,” Lander said rather boldly, as if it was some kind of joke.

Another man spoke up across from Perkins. “Care to make up for it in a game, Bular?”

Lander held his arms out. “It’s why I’m here, isn’t it?”

An unsettling grin spread across the man’s mouth as his gaze moved to me. “And who’s the pretty lady you brought with you today?”

“My fiancée, Auria,” Lander answered.

All eyes in the room faced us—no, faced me —and Perkins stood from his chair, scooting it back to get his belly past the table. “A game in the back, then.”

Lander set a hand on my lower back, guiding me past the tables to follow after Perkins, the man who’d spoken to Lander, and another man with brunet hair. From behind, the latter looked rather fit with a sculpted back and his hair mussed, the top sticking up in odd spots. He shoved his sleeves up to his elbows, revealing a cacophony of black swirls etched into his skin. My movements stiffened at the sight.

He was a thief, just like the rest of them.

As we walked, Lander leaned close to my ear. “That’s Crass,” Lander murmured, nodding in the direction of the man who’d spoken to him. “And Nemin.” He gestured toward the brunet.

“You owe them money?” I asked quietly.

He tossed his head back and forth. “Not exactly.”

Before I could ask what he meant by that, we entered a small, more damp room. The air hung thick, and with the flick of a hand from Perkins, the lanterns hanging from the walls and above the table lit, casting a dim amber glow throughout the room.

With a hard swallow and a deep breath to center myself, I followed them toward the table in the middle of the room.