Page 23 of Heart of Shadows

“Now.” Aedon’s tone held an edge of unfriendliness she had not expected, but understood, “we gave you food from our meagre stores, you’ve had warmth from our fire—and my cloak, I might add—and you are welcome to shelter with us for the night. Frankly, you ought to be grateful we’re taking you in. However, if you’d rather not spend the night with a bunch of hardened, moralless criminals, you’re free to leave.” He gestured at the path.

“May I stay?” she asked in a small voice. “Please. I have nowhere else to go.” Goodness knew what roamed the unfamiliar lands. Harper was not afraid of the dark or the forests, but she was not a fool. She was a stranger in these lands and with no means to protect herself. There was safety in numbers, at least. She could have sworn she saw the hint of a smile on Aedon’s face at her words.

“She can’t fight, she can’t survive in the wild, and she has no magic.” Erika’s assessment was brutal. Harper flinched.

“I can survive. I’ve hunted and provided for myself for years,” Harper retorted with a spark of defiance. The harsh woman continued to glare, but Harper straightened her spine, glaring back.

“What good is a—” Brand began.

Aedon cut him off with a hiss. “She does have a Dragonheart, though. That makes her special. Give her a chance, Erika. I doubt you’d survive in her lands.”

Erika huffed. “I could survive anywhere.”

“We don’t need a wet blanket,” said Brand. “She’s a liability. We’ll get ourselves caught with her slowing us down. We cannot afford the delay—not now—as well you know.”

“I’m happy for the girl to stay.” Ragnar’s voice was quiet, albeit filled with an authority Harper had not expected. The others stopped their bickering to look at him. He met each of their gazes in turn, and there was something accusatory in his that made each person drop their eyes. “I know what it is to be an outcast. You all do. You all know how important it is to be accepted, flaws and all. The girl’s fallen on hard times, as we have all done. We have a home in each other. Why not one more, at least for a while?”

Brand glanced at his feet, Erika looked uncomfortable, but Aedon beamed. “That settles it then. Three votes to two. Yes, Harper’s vote counts. You’re stuck with us now.”

Harper gave Aedon a hesitant smile. For all their strange depths, he seemed keen to have her. Perhaps, despite his flaws—and illegal habits—he was a generous soul and that deserved its own merit. She had nothing to offer them in recompense. “Thank you. I’ll do whatever I can to earn my keep.”

Erika huffed, but Aedon ignored her. “That’s the spirit!” He threw her a one-sided smile, and his twinkling gaze sent something twisting deep in her core as he reached out a hand to her. She took it hesitantly and he shook it. After he let go, she could still feel the warm imprint of his fingers upon her palm.

“Now that’s settled, how about a game of chatura?” Ragnar said. He pulled forth a box that contained a folded, hexagonal wooden board and several dozen tiny, intricately carved pieces in three different colours of wood.

Brand rolled his eyes.

“What? You’re afraid of being beaten again?” asked Ragnar, grinning.

“Never,” Brand growled, his attention snapping to Ragnar. “A farthing says I can wipe the ground with you.”

“Easiest money I’ve made all week,” Ragnar chuckled. He lay the board flat and started to stack two sets of figures upon it in a seemingly random order. “Erika? Aedon?”

Erika shook her head, continuing to tend her blade.

Aedon sighed and held up his hands. “I have no coin left, Ragnar. You cleared me out last week.”

“And don’t forget the ‘I owe you’, master elf.”

Aedon winced. “And that.”

“Harper?” Ragnar asked.

She looked at the board. “I don’t know how to play.” It looked like no game she knew. In the inn, most games centred around coins and alcohol, played with whatever chips the gamblers possessed and whichever vague rules—which were usually as fluid as their drinks—they decided.

“Go on,” said Aedon. “Count me in. I’ll show you how it’s played.” He gave Harper a winning smile, which she responded to before she remembered he was a criminal. She looked away, sour-faced.

“That’s a poor do for the girl. She’ll never learn to play from you. You couldn’t win if I was blindfolded!”

“We’ll see about that.” Aedon stuck out his tongue. “But no money in or out on my part, Master Dwarf.”

“Spoilsport.”

Ragnar promptly cleared the board of all of them, taking Brand’s farthing—a copper coin stamped very differently to Harper’s—to the tune of the huge man’s cursing. Harper did not have a clue what had happened. Some strange game of strategy, much more complicated than she could follow, with the amount of turns per player changing, different rules for when and how each figurine could move, and a seemingly arbitrary rule system.

When they had finished, Harper’s face ached from smiling. Somehow, lost in the game, she had forgotten the shattering of her world for a few precious moments.

“Chatura master again!” Ragnar crowed.

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