Page 27 of Twisted Souls (Twisted Souls #1)

Xavier

The dirt path beneath us transformed into cobblestone, signaling our approach to Moonhollow, and I glanced back at my brother. He rode behind us, maintaining a deliberate distance, much like he had done the day before. We would pass through one more village after this one before we got to the border of Niverrian, and from there, it would be another few days until we reached Gunnar.

With a sigh, I turned my attention to Zara. She was talking with Dedra, and a smile tugged at my lips. Dedra took a while to warm up to people, and it was nice to see her opening up and getting to know Zara.

I slowed my horse until I was next to my brother. “Want to talk about it?” I asked, not bothering to look at him.

“No,” he grumbled, keeping his gaze forward. His short blonde hair was growing out, and it looked like he needed a shave. The stubble on his cheek cast a shadow on his face, making him appear more miserable than usual.

“She is just looking for a friend,” I said, but he remained silent. I glanced at my brother again, shaking my head. “If this is how you would have treated your mate, then you’re an even worse male than I thought.” The words shot from my mouth, sharp and cutting before I could stop myself. I barely registered the way my brother’s gaze snapped to me, burning with fury, because I had already spurred my horse forward, closing the distance between me and Zara.

“We’ll be coming up on Moonhollow shortly,” I said, glancing at her. The dark circles and puffiness under her eyes made my jaw tighten.

“Dedra told me,” she murmured, more to herself than to me. Her voice was distant, like she was already miles away, even after last night.

Silence settled between us as we rode on, the thatched-roof cottages of Moonhollow slowly appearing in the distance. I stole another glance at Zara and smiled as I saw her eyes wide with anticipation.

We entered the village gates, the winding cobblestone streets guiding us through bustling markets and lively storefronts. Tiny shops with arched doorways lined the way, and the air was rich with the scent of spices, freshly baked pastries, and tobacco smoke curling from pipes.

Zara’s gaze darted from shop to shop, tracing the villagers' movements and soaking in the vibrant surroundings. Her eyes seemed to glow with a quiet longing, and I couldn’t help but wish we had more time to show her everything this village had to offer.

“Pixies,” I said, leaning toward her on my horse and nodding toward a market booth selling bundles of wrapped silk. Three hovered above the blankets, each no larger than a hand. Their blue-tinted skin was covered in leather, each sporting tiny daggers strapped to their side. All three had heart-shaped faces with large black eyes and long black hair. Their delicate, translucent wings fluttered rapidly, keeping them effortlessly afloat as they watched the crowd walking by with sharp focus.

“They’re known for their fine silk and embroidery,” I continued, watching Zara as her eyes lingered on the tiny creatures. “Pixie silk is sought after by anyone who can afford it.”

Zara wrinkled her nose, no doubt remembering the attack by a few on our journey here.

I laughed. “They won't bother anyone here,” I said, winking at her, and she gave me a look that seemed to say she wasn’t too sure about that.

An ogre lumbered past Zara, its massive one eye narrowing on her as it stomped by, startling her.

This ogre was about eight feet tall, and had light colored leathery gray skin. His bulky body was large and covered in bright green moss. The moss covered the top of its head, giving him the illusion he had hair. He wore typical ogre fashion, deer skin vest and matching pants.

Zara had been staring at him and I cringed inwardly at not preparing her for the different types of Fae and creatures she might encounter. I made a mental note to do so as soon as possible.

Ogres weren’t mean; in fact, they were among the kindest creatures in these lands. But they were painfully self-conscious. This one likely thought Zara had been fixated on the mole dominating the side of his face, oblivious to the fact that she had simply never encountered someone like him before.

Sure enough, as the ogre turned away, his massive fingers brushed self-consciously against the mole, his shoulders hunching slightly.

Zara audibly gasped as we approached the center of the village. A majestic oak tree towered over the landscape, its gnarled branches stretching toward the sky like the fingers of an ancient god. A grand house with a stage stood at its base, serving as the central gathering place for the community. Three faceless statues depicting our three gods—the three fates, were placed at its center. Because nobody knew what the fates looked like, and were often described differently, artists usually depicted them without faces to avoid offending them.

It'd been known throughout history for the fates to make themselves known and to intervene. Every recorded encounter depicted them wildly differently than the previous one. One encounter reported they appeared to be an old woman, another a young boy. Some have reported them as creatures or as nothing but voices in a dream. There hadn’t been a sighting or interaction reported for nearly a thousand years now, and most thought they had abandoned us. I rarely thought much about them, but lately, with everything going on, I couldn’t help but wonder what they had planned.

I led us away from the stage and toward a large wooden building separate from the other shops. A creaky wooden sign hung over the door.

“The Wobbly Oak”

The sign swung in the breeze, and smoke and the smell of meat wafted toward us from its large stained-glass door. Its image depicted a large oak tree, just like the one in the middle of the square. The door was ajar, and when we unmounted our horses, laughter and the clink of glasses sounded from within.

“I'll meet up with you later,” Jaxon grumbled as he walked past me, disappearing into the crowded streets before I could stop him. I glared after him, turning to find Zara and Dedra doing the same. My lips twitched at the sight.

“Come on, we should eat.”