Page 4 of Sins of the Stone

I wonder what made him so moody,she thought.

But the thought disappeared as she continued to the village pub, hoping a familiar, warm face would greet her. She didn’t stop running until the bar was in view and the little gargoyle statue outside greeted her. Snow began to fall from the sky as she slowed down, her hands on her knees as she caught her breath. Once her breathing regained a rhythm, she looked up at the sky. Stars were shining in the darkness, and flakes of snow floated down gracefully.

Taking a breath, Ursulette smiled slightly, the sight calming the suffocating ache in her chest. Just as she took a step forward, something snagged her vision. With eyes widening, she glanced at what she thought was a shadow, though it was gone by the time she turned.

Fucking Omar.

With an eye roll, she didn’t wait another moment before heading inside. Even though she assumed his threats were a bluff, a small part of her pondered that he could be so deranged as to follow through.

She shivered at the thought, reminded of his hot breath on her face and the blade tip glinting in the moonlight. She never wanted to experience such aggression again. With a sigh, she pushed the idea out of her head with the same pressure she put on the bar door.

Once inside, warmth struck her. A few gazes, too—more than usual—made her face shade. All she wanted to do was tell them staring wasn’t polite until she looked down, noticing a spritz of blood on her coat. She quickly shed it off, the patron’s eyes still locked on her.

The tavern was filled with buzzing people and chattering characters. Before anyone could inquire about her mysterious bloodstain, she made her way over to the bar. Giles was standing behind it, wiping down the counter with a fraying rag. As she drew closer, he looked up, giving her a warm smile, his wrinkled face creasing with the gesture.

“How are you doing, doll?” he asked. Ursulette smiled sheepishly. Typically, if he were anyone else, she would’ve protested at what she would’ve viewed as a degrading nickname, but it wasn’t negative when he said it. It was warm, like a grandfather, not like someone malicious.

“I’m alright, Giles.” Her response was flat and unconvincing, so she tried to fake a smile. She could see his grin twist into a frown beneath his wintery beard. There was no hiding from him. Perhaps it was all the time they spent together since her parents passed.

“There’s blood on your face, child,” he said, the crow’s feet lining his eyes pinching with concern. “Did someone hurt you?” Ursulette gave another small smile—this time, more genuine.

“Ididn’t get hurt, don’t worry,” she assured, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a handful of coins with a gloved hand. When she felt around, she remembered that she had a small stuffed toy she was supposed to place at the orphanage before her evening got interrupted. With a breath, she placed the payment on the counter and sat on a stool, finally relishing the opportunity to relax.

“Omar and Kent again, huh?” he lamented, his eyes looking stern. Ursulette nodded as Giles dipped a cloth in a bucket of water and handed it to her. She took it and touched it to her skin. She didn’t realize how grimy she felt until the abrasive cloth scrubbed the filth away.

The slick of blood was drying and beginning to flake, but through the desperation to get away, it was hard to acknowledge such simple discomforts. As she scrubbed her face, Giles slid a tinted bottle onto the counter and broke into a grin.

“I bet you gave those two bone heads quite the clobbering,” he chuckled. Ursulette couldn’t help but giggle with him.

“Yeah, I did,” she said. “So if Omar comes here saying some fierce creature broke his nose, you’ll know better.” She winked, taking a swig of the cider in front of her. “I bet he’d say he fought the king of demons himself.”

“The king of demons, eh?” an unfamiliar voice said. Ursulette was so engrossed in the conversation that she neglected to notice the burly gentleman who squeezed himself into the empty seat beside her.

Her face flushed when her eyes met the man’s, and she tucked her head back to face the counter. She looked over, trying not to make it seem obvious, and noticed a bundle of gently glowing blue chains in his grasp, which gave her a chill.

They’ve never brought those into the village before.

In the past, the monster hunting equipment was stored in a building on the outskirts of the village. People felt more comfortable when they weren’t faced with such stark violence, even if it was just a simple tool. Giles’ lips thinned.

“I told you not to bring those in here,” he hissed. Ursulette’s finger tapped against the bar’s edge, eager to get the interaction over with.

“What’s the big deal?” the man said. “I enchanted them, just like you asked. Just lay ‘em out in the right pattern, and they’ll bind anything that falls into them.”

“We’re trying not to cause a panic.” Giles pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just leave them and get out of here. You’re going to spook my customers.” A moment later, he let out a breath and grabbed the chains, dragging themacross the counter before they clattered to the ground, out of sight.

“A little fear isn’t bad,” the man snickered. Then he nudged Ursulette, causing her face to burn. “Isn’t that right?” She returned a shrug, feeling her chest hollow out with worry.

“Sure,” she said wearily. The man nodded at Giles while he returned him a glare before spinning around and walking away.

“See you later, Giles,” the man called. Ursulette kept her eyes on the bar, feeling as if she just witnessed something she wasn’t supposed to. When she looked up, Giles was wiping down a glass, but his knuckles were white, and his expression pinched. She dared to pipe up.

“What was that about?” she questioned. Giles huffed and tossed the glass into the sink beside him.

“I’m not going to lie to you, Ursulette,” he said. “Something strange is going on with the creatures.” His face was stoic. “I need you to promise me you will get out of here if something happens. Don’t be a hero. Just go.” It felt like the air was vacuumed from her lungs.

“I suspected that,” she said solemnly. Her chest tightened, thinking back to the attack she experienced right on the edge of the village. They had never been so brazen before.

“We don’t know what’s going on, but I’ve been ordered to keep my mouth shut to not cause a panic. But I thought you should know,” he said. Her eyes fell to the counter, uncertain of the true implications of his words. After pondering the significance momentarily, she raised her gaze.

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