Page 49 of Fires of the Forsaken
“‘Don’t lie,’” I repeated his earlier statement.
“Lass.” Laughter warmed Terrick’s voice. “I’ll strike a bargain with you. If you open your eyes and see a Wraith, we’ll return to the woods. If you cannot find one, then you’ll accompany me into Swindon. Does that sound fair?”
It did, but I said nothing.
I pried my eyelids apart and angled my head toward the village. I expected to see ramshackled (is this a word?) dwellings and armored Wraiths.
Instead, rows upon rows of houses lined the village streets. Some buildings were as big as Varn’s home. Most were bigger. Humans walked to and fro—and they were unlike any humans I’d ever seen. They were so verylarge. And robust. Layers of fat and muscle covered their bones. They wore hole-less clothes.
(This doesn’t seem right. Whole-less? Holeless? Not holey?)
Well, in Detha, our threadbare clothing had provided little warmth or protection. And, when the fabric wore through, there often wasn’t any spare cloth to patch the holes. But in Swindon, the humans wore thick cloth; their tunics and breeches unmarred by tears. Andboots!Only a dozen humans in Detha had possessed a pair of boots. Everyone had a pair in Swindon!
“Have you found a Wraith?” Terrick asked.
My eyes roamed over every building, human, and animal I could find. There were no Wraiths.
Still, I said nothing—I never did like admitting when I was wrong—as I followed Terrick into the town.
“That’s the shoemaker.” Terrick pointed to a small, triangularbuilding with a wooden sign in the shape of a boot hanging over the front door. “We can go there in the morning to have shoes made for you. And here—” Terrick nodded toward a small, paunchy building. “Millie, the seamstress, will make you proper clothing. She’s the only one in the village withcoloredfabrics. You could have a green tunic if you wish. Orblue.
“And Carragh…” Terrick’s voice lowered as we passed a portly old woman selling bread from a wooden stand. I looked at him and found his cheeks tinged pink. “She is the finest bread maker in Swindon. Perhaps in all of Sakar.” A smile stretched across his lips. Despite his praise, he barely spared her steaming loaves of bread a glance. Instead, he kept his eyes focused on her, only drawing his gaze back to me once we turned a corner. “What do you think so far, lass?”
Truthfully, I was stunned. And my neck ached. This lively, noisy,wondrousplace had me twisting in every direction, trying to absorb all the new sights, sounds, and smells. I wished I had more than two eyes. Or that I could turn my head all the way around. Like an owl.
The scent of cooked meat drifted through the air as we passed the market. My stomach gave a hungry grumble.
Terrick chuckled. “There will be food at the inn, lass,” he assured me.
“In?”
“Yes. A tavern. Temporary housing,” he amended when I furrowed my brow. “My home is likely unlivable at the moment. It’s been years since I’ve…well, we’ll be far more comfortable at the inn.”
As we moved toward the heart of the town, the other humans began to notice us. Slowly, at first. A few odd glances here and there. The occasional raised eyebrow. Many of them recognized Terrick. They called out to him. He waved cheerily back. Sometimes they made jests at his expense.
“Oi, Terrick,” a man said, “where did you find that wee little thing?”
“A child? At your age?” another man asked with a hearty chuckle. “My, my Terrick. I’ve misjudged you.”
“I have always been full of surprises, Jethro,” Terrick laughed, even as he gave my arm a gentle squeeze.
“Ah, such a sweet lass,” a stooped, toothless woman said when we passed by her. She pinched my cheek and laid her hand on Terrick’s arm. “It’s good to see you again, Terrick. You look happy.”
We walked.And we walked. And we walked. The streets seemed never-ending, the people too numerous to count. They were boisterous; full of life and joy. They ate and drank freely. Laughed loudly. Some played music. Some sang.
In Detha, they would have all been whipped for causing such a ruckus.
In Swindon, it seemed there were no such rules. But still my eyes roamed, endlessly shifting through the masses of humans.
“Have you seen a Wraith, Lass?” Terrick asked as we passed a tavern. Screeching music drifted through the doors while scores of men and women slurred and sang in horribly off-key tones.
Heat spread through my chest. Embarrassment. “No.” It pained me to admit defeat.
Terrick’s weathered face wrinkled as he smiled.
* * *
Terrick renteda room for a month atThe Black Bull Inn; so named because of the innkeeper’s bull. Thebehometh—behemothcreature was prime breeding stock with his lusty, rippling muscles and shining black fur. He seemed terrifying; almost too large to be a real animal. But he was as mild as a kitten. And I adored him. I spent many a morning perched on the top railing of his pen, sharing my porridge. I ate a spoonful, fed him a spoonful, and so on until my bowl emptied. Afterward, I traced my fingers around the swirl of hair on the bull’s brow while he leaned his massive head against my lap, utterly content.
