Page 15 of The Pactbound Angel (The Soul Mirror Duet #1)

The Offer of a Secret

Breakfast the next morning consisted of fruit, pastries, poached eggs, and some kind of gray sausage I did my best to avoid.

Raewyn was notably absent, and no one had seen her since last night.

My concern about her welfare made me knock loudly on her door, which earned me a fit of yelling to let her sleep.

“So, what are we doing today?” Georgina asked before stuffing a colored pastry into her mouth.

M.A.L.C.O.L.M. beeped. “RECOVER THAT WHICH WAS STOLEN. KILL THOSE WHO STAND IN OUR WAY.”

His volume didn’t reverberate here as it had in the Hall of Mirrors, but my glance around the common room confirmed elves and fey of all sorts gave us a side-eye. “Can’t you lower the voice on him?”

Georgina shook her head, looking down at her plate. “Nope. Not without my tools and know-how. His voice box must have gotten damaged in the fight with the mischief hag.”

M.A.L.C.O.L.M. beeped again. “CONFIRMED. MY VOLUME LEVEL IS LOCKED TO THE SCREAM SETTING.”

Georgina patted her automaton’s leg as he stood over her.

“What exactly is the purpose of a scream setting?”

Georgina looked me up and down. “Ever been in a Tirvinir factory?”

When I shook my head, she explained further, “Well, they can be pretty loud. If the automatons need to talk, you need to be able to hear them.” She went back to finishing her food.

Dismissed, my eyes found Ramiren while Georgina was preoccupied. Wracking my brain for something to talk about, I came up with asking how he slept.

He put his utensils down, weaving his fingers together with his elbows on the table as he gave me his full attention. “Very well, thank you. Yourself?”

My mouth twitched into a smile. “Same. Best I’ve slept in a long time.” I paused. “My bed was quite comfortable. It’s far better than the hard ground.”

“Agreed. My work often has me sleeping in unfamiliar, but usually acceptable, accommodations. I take it yours does not?”

“Not really, no. At the Horyn Academy, we had barracks. Rope beds and such. When traveling, I sleep on a bedroll. I rarely stopped for the night in cities, so I haven’t had a proper bed in a long time. Last night was… quite nice.”

His eyes softened as he peered over the rim of his glasses. “I hope it was.”

My gaze met his, and the sides of my mouth twitched again. More than nice.

“Oooh, boy. Pastries!”

I shifted on the bench when Raewyn loudly traipsed down the stairs to our table. “Raewyn. Sleep well?”

“Like the dead, and I’m still waking up. Exhausting day, but the ending was pleasant. Boy, can she scream. Nat, we need to have Mom and Dad install whatever these fey water pipes are in the villa.” She took up a plate from the stack and began to fill it with fruit and tarts.

Beep. “I CAN SCREAM TOO.”

Raewyn jumped with a shriek, nearly dropping her loaded plate. “Minue’s tits, you scared me.” She poked Georgina in the shoulder. “Can’t you lower his sound or something?”

Georgina rubbed her forehead.

Ramiren’s attention went back to his plate as he finished eating. The moment was lost; so I did the same. Having collapsed into my bed after getting back to my room, little thought had been given to the encounter last night. My green dress actually wrinkled when I slept in it.

But from the moment it woke up, my brain refused to do anything but remind me.

Did I go too far?

With cold clarity, the truthful response to my own question wasn’t a yes , but a wish to do even more.

More of his deft hands, more of his tongue, more of him .

My impossible thoughts jumbled as my fork pushed purple strawberries around my plate.

There was no way anything further could have been done.

What else is there to do? And what was with that voice?

Cordani? What did that mean? Did I hallucinate?

I risked a side glance at Ramiren, who was putting his cleaned plate on the dirty stack. What more does he have planned for me?

That question would have answers soon enough. Until then, patience was a virtue. A thrill of excitement waved through me at his plans, but I stamped it down.

This was for learning, not for pleasure .

“Two pounds of olives, three pounds of seasoned almonds, a satchel of dried fruit, apricots if you have them, a half-wheel of hard cheese, five pounds of oats, five pounds of rice, two pounds of mixed dehydrated vegetables… and if it’s almost entirely carrots, I will come back to have words with you.

Five pounds of dried lentils or beans, a pound of salt, a sealed jar of honey, and, of course, five skins of Evrakan white, Pouroen red, or Laethi fruit wine.

Along with travel rations, please. No meat.

Four weeks’ worth for one person.” I ticked off the list on my fingers as the fey man behind the counter wrote a hurried list on a scrap of paper.

The grocer, Mirin, a sciur fey with a twitchy nose and striated gray and brown hair , paused his writing. “No meat at all?”

“Correct. None. That should be, by my math, two gold pieces even.”

He kept scribbling on the paper as his eyebrows raised. “Yes, miss. That’s correct. Anything else?”

What els-

Oh!

"Do you have a map of the Feylands?"

Mirin shifted his weight. "Yes, miss. But they are expensive. All Feylands maps are magical, you see. Because the Feylands mirror Laeth, any time a building is raised in Laeth, it's raised here. Which means anytime a city or village is founded, it is founded here. The maps need to update themselves, or they’ll be useless eventually.” He frowned.

“Though for some reason, most natural features don’t change. "

I have so many questions.

What would happen if someone was standing at the spot where a city or building suddenly appeared? And at what point was a building considered done, or a city officially founded? And, indeed, why did the Feylands mirror Laeth at all?

Though it was food, and not information, that brought me to this store, my curiosity was undeniably piqued. Ignorance never solves anything. “What if something is built here? Is it also built in Laeth?”

His pencil paused. “Oh. No. It only goes one way.” He went back to writing.

“What happens if there’s a house here, but another gets built in Laeth?”

He grimaced deeply and lowered the paper and pencil in his hands.

“Uh. Goodbye, Feylands house, though with that trade agreement a few decades ago between Laeth and the Feylands, I don’t think it happens nearly as often as it used to.

But that's why there are a lot of remote villages here. Fewer chances of that happening.”

What a horrible situation.

“Do you know why the Feylands mirror Laeth?”

Another grimace from him. Is this a touchy subject here?

“You’d need to ask someone smarter than me, miss. I don’t actually know.”

Just drop it, then. I don’t want to make the man uncomfortable.

“Then the map should do nicely.” A ‘thank you’ nearly tumbled out again, making me push down years and years of ingrained manners, but the encounter with the innkeeper last night quickly reminded me to not indicate gratitude to a fey.

It makes you beholden to them, as though they’ve done you a favor, and you will owe them.

What’s to stop someone from just leaving the Feylands to avoid the fey’s obligation? Is there some kind of obligation debt collection agency keeping track? Something about the innate magic of this place? My room price would have been reasonable if I hadn’t thanked him.

Still, it was a cheap lesson.

Mirin disappeared through a side door to the stocking room to fulfill my order.

A bell dinged over the front door. The noise reflexively caught my attention, and Raewyn grinned at me and bounded over. “Nat, buying us food for the road?”

“Buying a map for the group and food for myself, actually. Not us. I leave everyone to determine the best rations for themselves.”

Raewyn pouted and looked around the racks of items for sale. She picked up a strange metal object, possibly a kitchen implement or perhaps a medical device. I wasn’t sure, and neither was she, based upon her scrunched face.

“I never got used to road rations, not like you, Nat. How could you live off them?” She made a grimace as Mirin came back with a cartful of tins, sacks, and canisters.

He began to dole out the food into cloth bags after weighing them on a scale.

Raewyn came over to see what I had purchased and raised her eyebrows.

“Almonds? Olives? Those aren’t rations. Has your sense of taste finally improved? ”

“It never left, Raewyn. Th-” I grunted, just barely stopping myself from telling her what, or who, it was for. She would have many, many questions. And like a pup with a juicy bone, she would gnaw me down to the marrow to get answers.

Facing Mirin, I asked, “How much do I owe you?”

“Two gold pieces for the food, miss. And one hundred for the map.” He winced, his nervous nose twitching. “I understand if you don’t want it.”

Without a word, gold coins were plucked from my larger money pouch to rest on the counter.

Mirin's eyes widened the more gold I placed down, until one-hundred-and-two coins sat in small, neat stacks.

I placed the sacks and bags into the small pouch at my side, watching them disappear into the opening.

A gift from a particularly grateful caravan leader who was still breathing because of my shield, the pouch was far larger on the inside than outside, making it much easier to carry all my gear. It was a good day when my bulky, heavy pack was replaced. Raewyn watched me, eyeing the pouch.

“Really? You got an Extended Pouch? You have all the fun. Can you carry a tent in there for me?”

It was important to me for Raewyn to be comfortable. There should be enough room. Who knows what manner of weather we’ll encounter here in the Feylands?

She clapped her hands together with my nod in agreement. “Thank you! And my pack. And a bedroll, too, please. And maybe a cot.”