Maybe tomorrow when I’m angry at him, I’ll tell him so.
For now, I settle into the ride and inhale the enormous night sky edged with smoke from the shoreline and fires from our own squadrons camped throughout the valley. The sound of clanking and the smell of war travel with us until we hit the main highway with its tall hedges that block out everything but the ricochet of our horses’ hooves on white rock.
The road climbs a quick two terrameters before the hedge disappears and the High Court spreads out ahead of us with its giant stone buildings and beautiful archways covering steep streets leading up to the white Castle. It is a sanctuary kept safe for centuries by the Hythra Mountains’ crescent range that extends from the waters up by Cashlin and curves around the base of Faelen. As we enter, Colin veers off one of the outermost lanes toward a low stone portico next to a row of stalls. “Let’s tie them over here.”
With the animals secured and chomping sugar cubes, Colin takes Breck’s hand and winds us past stone houses and wood hovels, all well lit and noisy. My eyes are bugging out of my head, trying to soak it all in. The villagers I’ve known can’t afford to burn candles late, but here, near the High Court, even the poorest area is alive.
The sounds are the same though. Snuffling comes from one home. Crying from another.
A lady’s high-pitched laughter.
A man cursing.
I pull my cloak tighter and hurry past. Whoever it is, his anger is getting the better of him.
A small cry rings out from within his oversized hovel, and I suddenly realize it’s not a hovel at all but a favor house, painted in the telltale crimson, and the shouting is directed at one of the girls. My gut turns.
I cover my ears and keep my gaze straight in front of me. Let it go.
Colin gives me a curious look, as if to say, “You okay?” Triggering the abrupt premonition in me that this may not have been the brightest plan. I still have no idea how to control my curse. If anything, Eogan’s work has made me hypersensitive to it. As has his dumb prying into my personal issues.
We turn a corner and I keep with my fast pace until I’m certain the swearing and whimpering in the house have faded. I remove my hands and shove them back into my pockets.
Colin’s still watching me. “You afraid of people fighting?”
He can’t honestly be asking that. Unless he’s unaware of what we just passed, or worse, doesn’t care. “I don’t like hearing people get hurt,” I mumble, then quicken my stride.
He softens his gaze and continues his survey of my face. “Do you want me to go back an’ check it out for a sec? Maybe I can do somethin’.” And his eyes are so sincere I know he means it. Even if his doing so would end up a complete disaster for all of us, of that I have no doubt. An image of the redheaded girl fills my head.
“I don’t think that’d be a safe idea right now,” I whisper, even as my curse twitches and my stomach coils. I glance away to Breck, who’s got her head inclined to us, listening.
“Well, maybe we can at least lighten your heart with a feast.” Colin bumps my shoulder and flashes an instant smile. He waves his free hand as if to bow at me, announcing, “Here we are,” as he stops in front of the common-house doors looming in the dark. Glimmering lights and the sounds of hilarity ease out from a crack at the base, along with the smell of liquid forgetfulness.
Colin puts his hand on the door but doesn’t open it. “Don’t draw any notice to yerselves. Doubt anyone on this side of Court would recognize us, but still.” He yanks open the squeaky door and we’re flooded with light and raucous laughter.
“Hey-o! Looksy what the dark’s dragged in!” a loud voice erupts. “More friendlies!”
CHAPTER 12
THE WHOLE ROOM TURNS TO FACE US, INCLUDING a group of men seated around the middle table, on top of which stands a taller-than-average dwarf.
“C’mon, c’mon! O’er here! Don’t be shy!” the dwarf shouts. “We’re all nice folk, right, chaps?”
A cheer breaks out along with a call for more drinks, but it’s all a little too boisterous, too forceful, as if to conceal the strain of fear I sense in the air.
I look at Colin. So much for discreet.
He grins, then plunges toward the group of men and their dwarf, all of whom I’d guess to be mine workers, judging from the soot coating their bodies.
Breck nudges me. “Colin just went off an’ sat with ’em, didn’t he? Fool-head.”
I shrug and, pulling her sleeve my direction, work us around the room’s edges to sit at a side counter, opposite the room from a table full of court officials in shiny, embroidered breeches and gold-buttoned coats.
Breck pulls her hood back and settles in, then produces a small purse of draghts she uses to place our order.