Daybreak (32 page)

She squealed and ran for the man who lumbered towards them, a man with enough girth to have easily been spotted as a cook. Aerilyn didn’t slow at the sweat plastering his face, or at the sauce-covered ladle he brandished like a sword. She crashed full-force into his belly, buried her face in the folds of his badly-stained apron, and cried:

“Oh, Horatio — you have no idea how I’ve missed you!”

He wrapped his arms around her, nearly swallowing her in his girth. “I’ve missed you too, dear girl. Things haven’t been quite the same without you.”

“Nothing’s the same! I go away for a year and come back to all of this … where are they going?” She peeled her head from Horatio’s chest as a large group of men tromped through the crowd. They hailed Horatio with waves and grins before inviting themselves inside the house. “Are they friends of yours?” Aerilyn said, frowning after them.

Horatio scratched at his tuft of hair. Elena’s head swam as the man who held her shifted uncomfortably. 

“Ah, they’re customers, actually. Business has been going rather well — so well in fact that we’ve had to make a few adjustments.” Horatio waved his ladle downhill. “The tavern’s much too small to everyone, and it’s nearly impossible to do any building during the winter. So we started serving them out of the house.”

“Well, winter’s over,” Aerilyn said hotly. When another man stopped scrape his boots off on the steps, she brushed past Horatio and marched purposely for the house. He trailed behind her with a string of apologies.

The man who carried Elena followed them uncertainly.

“You know how father loved this house.”

“I do, Miss Aerilyn.”

“I don’t think he would want strangers traipsing in at all hours.”

“I’m sure you’re right.”

“And furthermore …”

Aerilyn’s words trailed away as they stepped inside and a deafening noise accosted them: a mix of laughter, clattering plates, and the many shouts for second helpings — all settled atop the steady rumble of a house packed with voices.

Small tables lined the hallway. They were hardly large enough to seat two, but some had three or four men gathered around them. Swords hung from their belts and many had weatherworn shields draped across the backs of their chairs. The men slid aside so Horatio could fit through. Several reached up to slap his thick shoulders as he passed. 

Ahead of them, Aerilyn’s pace quickened. She cut between chairs and darted into the first room she came to. Elena groaned when she heard an ear-piercing squeal. 

“Just set me down here, will you?”

“Are you sure, miss?” the forest man said.

“I don’t think you want to stay around for this.”

It was clear by how quickly he set her down that he didn’t. By the time Elena made it into the room, Aerilyn was already in tears.

She recognized the tiny space as Garron’s office. Though there was a long table crammed into it now, his desk and chair still sat against the wall. Aerilyn’s chin cut from the desk, across the patrons who gaped at her sobbing, and to the portrait that hung above the mantle.

It was a painting of Garron astride his horse. Elena recognized his stern expression and feathered cap immediately. The painting hadn’t been there the last time she’d visited, but it was very well done. She didn’t understand what there possibly was to be upset about.

Aerilyn tore from the room before she could ask and rushed down the hall, wailing the whole way.

“It’s only temporary!” Horatio called after her. “As soon as we’ve got the tavern finished, we’ll … gah!” He threw his hands up when Aerilyn disappeared into the stairwell. His shoulders bunched in anticipation of the resounding
slam
of her door.

Elena didn’t have time for this. The day was already lost, and her shoulder was beginning to ache down to her fingertips. “I’ll talk to her. And send that healer up the moment he gets here, will you?”

Horatio frowned at her for a moment, his eyes combing across her glare. Finally, he nodded. “Yes, very well.”

Elena swept between the tables and chairs with ease. She doubted if half of the men even saw her. They were buried up to their beards in plates piled high with assortments of meat slathered in a bright red sauce. All conversation stopped the moment their plates hit the table. They only paused to breathe or take a drink from their tankards.

The stairway was dark and narrow. Elena passed through it quickly. People wandered down the hallway upstairs, as well. Some were patrons who’d obviously stayed the night, but most were maids. They watched curiously as Elena strode by.

Even if she hadn’t already known which room was Aerilyn’s, it would’ve been obvious by the yelling. A middle-aged woman stood outside her door, pleading with her to open it.

“You can’t stay locked away forever, Miss Aerilyn.” She frowned as some inscrutable string of words came through the door. “Horatio never meant to upset you. This all came upon us so quickly — he was only trying to do what was best for the village!”

“Why don’t you bring us some tea, Alice?”

The maid whirled around like she’d taken a shock. Her eyes narrowed onto Elena’s mask. “Who are you? How did you know my name?”

“I’m a friend of Aerilyn’s … and I know plenty more than your name, Alice.” Elena held those words menacingly, as if she knew her every secret. In truth, she’d overheard her name once while … investigating, for the Countess. “Tea. I believe Aerilyn prefers the sort that tastes like blackberries.”

Alice stiffened, but did as she was told. Elena counted her steps as she marched down the stairs — fully aware that the other maids were watching her intently from the end of the hall. “Aerilyn? Can I come in?”

“No! I’ve already said that I don’t want to talk. And I don’t want tea. I just want everybody in this house to leave me alone for five blasted minutes!”

“Very well. I suppose if you insist …”

Elena drove her heel into the latch and the door burst open, taking a good chunk of the frame away with it. The maids screamed at the noise — screamed again when Elena glared at them. They practically tripped over their skirts trying to be the first down the stairs.

“Go away!” Aerilyn cried, hurling a pillow at the doorway.

Elena hurled it back. The pillow smacked Aerilyn in the chest and knocked her flat onto the bed. “Stop crying. You’re behaving like a child.”

She looked as if she’d just been slapped across the face. “This is my father’s home! It’s all I have left of him. It isn’t childish to want things to stay as he left them.”

“Do you plan to move back here?” Elena said, fighting through the pounding of her head.

“Well …”

“Do you plan to leave your mansion in the seas, pack up your husband and son, and drag them all into the forest?”

“No, I don’t. But that doesn’t mean things have to change so horribly.”

She had no idea. Her life was warm and sickly-sweet. Aerilyn had never tasted a single drop of the Kingdom’s bitterness — the stale bread so much of the realm lived on. 

Still, Elena tried to speak calmly. “The rest of the forest is struggling. Shops have closed, people are scared. It’s becoming more likely with every passing day that Crevan will attack the seas — and his army will march through the forest to get there.” She waved a hand behind her. “But in Pinewatch, the people are safe. Your cook’s blasted sauce has drawn so many mercenaries in that I wager nothing short of
Midlan
would be able to take them.

“You’ve been incredibly fortunate, Aerilyn. Many villages haven’t fared as well as yours. Think of Lakeshore,” she added, her throat tightening at the end. “A house you’ll never use again is a small price for your people’s safety.”

Aerilyn fell silent. Her face burned and she looked away. 

“Ah, did someone call for a healer?” 

A slight forest man had appeared in the doorway behind them — and judging by how wide his eyes were, he’d heard quite a bit. 

“She’s got a nasty arrow wound,” Aerilyn said, pointing to Elena. “You can work here. I’m going to speak to Horatio.” Then she slid off the bed, straightened her tunic, and marched out the door.

*******

By the time the healer finished sewing her up, the tavern had been filled for the evening. Aerilyn still hadn’t returned, and Elena wasn’t hungry. So she lay down on the bed and tried not to undo the healer’s work.

She still couldn’t believe what had happened to Lakeshore. Some moments, she was certain it’d all been a nightmare — a vision drawn in feverish sleep. But the longer she thought about it, the more real it became.

D’Mere was … dead. She had to be. There was no way Crevan would’ve let her escape. All the things she’d meant to say to her were now stuck inside her chest, swirling against her ribs — trapped for all eternity. She thought she would’ve been relieved by the Countess’s death. It was what she’d wanted, after all.

But for some reason, it left a bitter taste in her mouth.
 

When the noise downstairs finally died, Elena ventured back into the tavern.

The door was closed, the windows shuttered, and all the candles lit. The maids were just finishing up their mopping. They quickly scattered at the sight of Elena.

She followed the sound of voices down the hall into Garron’s office. Aerilyn and Horatio were seated across from each other at the long table. She took sips from a cup of tea and he drank deeply from a goblet. Both were food-stained and lathered with sweat.

“I never realized tavern work was so positively brutal. Is it like this every night?” Aerilyn said.

“Yes,” Horatio replied, after a particularly long swig of his drink. “Good gracious, yes! Men start clomping in the moment we’ve opened and don’t leave until we’ve kicked them out. Hired blades do well for themselves, these days. They’ve got coin to spend, and they eat like an army.”

Aerilyn’s eyes widened. “How could you possibly have enough to feed them?”

“I don’t,” Horatio admitted gravely. “They’ve drained us of nearly every morsel. I’m going to have to start taking apples instead of coin if we’re going to make it to autumn. Foster goes into the Valley, occasionally. Perhaps he could bring me something back.”

Aerilyn nearly choked on her tea. “You can’t let the merchants know you’re running out — they’ll swindle you! They’re furious enough as it is. Do you have any idea what an apple will cost if you tell them you’re running low?”

Horatio pursed his lips, and his eyes slid away. “Really? They’re furious with me?”

“You’ve got them by their purse strings. They have no choice but to pay what they’re told.” A smile bent her lips as she added: “Papa would be thrilled.”

Horatio chuckled. “He would be, wouldn’t he? I like to imagine that he’s grinning about all this, somewhere across the river …” He blinked quickly. “But if I don’t find some apples soon, he’ll be furious. Oh, I wish that boy hadn’t used so many apples in his recipe! But I suppose I shouldn’t complain, should I? That sauce is the closest thing to
magic
an average cook could hope to wield …”

While Horatio ranted on, Aerilyn looked down and bit her lip. She fiddled with the handle of her teacup. She did everything but offer up the obvious solution: the plains were thick with apples nearly every month of the year. Lysander could’ve had Pinewatch’s stock refilled in a fortnight.

The fact that Aerilyn said nothing about this could only mean …

“I can’t believe it. Please tell me you’ve told him,” Elena said.

They both jumped.

Horatio grasped his chest. “How long have you been standing there? You’re liable to kill a man, bursting out like that!”

“I know.” Elena sat next to Aerilyn — and pointedly ignored her glare. “Have you told him?”

“Elena!”

“You haven’t? Oh, dear.” Elena glanced up at Horatio. “I have a feeling this is about to get interesting.”

He couldn’t see her smile through her mask, and it was obvious by the way his eyes had widened that he was worried. “What’s interesting? What haven’t you told me?”

“It’s nothing. We can discuss it in the morning,” Aerilyn said quickly. “Goodnight.”

Elena grabbed her around the arm before she could escape and pulled her back down into the chair. “The longer you put it off, the more it’s going to sting. Are you ashamed?”

“No!”

“Then just tell him.”

Aerilyn gave her a scathing look before she turned back to Horatio. “Well, while I was away, something happened.”

“What sort of something?” Horatio leaned forward. His eyes searched. “Were you injured?”

“No.”

“Attacked? Because Kyleigh swore —”

“No, no! It was nothing like that. It was something … good. Marvelous, really.” Aerilyn took a deep, wavering breath. “I’ve fallen in love.”

Horatio looked as if he’d just had the wind knocked out of him. His eyes flicked between them as he leaned back in his chair. “Love …? Are you sure?”

Aerilyn nodded. “With all of my heart. I’ve never been so impossibly happy.”

After another moment of staring, Horatio leaned forward. He took Aerilyn’s hand — and inexplicably, he took Elena’s, as well. She was trying to figure out what was happening when he smiled and said:

“Well, I’ll admit this wasn’t at all what I’d been expecting. But I suppose the heart wants what the heart wants. And as long as you’re happy —”

“No.” Aerilyn shook her head and very firmly said
no
again. In the second it took her to peel her hand away, her face had already turned crimson. 

Horatio looked more perplexed than ever. Had Elena’s shoulder not been aching so badly, she might’ve laughed. But her pain made her impatient. “What Aerilyn’s trying to say is that she’s taken a husband — and you’d be lucky to have me, by the way,” she added with a glare.

Aerilyn rolled her eyes.

Meanwhile, all of the color had fled Horatio’s ruddy cheeks. “A husband? What husband?”

“He’s a seas man —”

“
Elena
!”

“— and also a pirate captain.” She let her words hang in the air for a moment: Aerilyn watched through her fingers as a wild, dangerous purple spread across Horatio’s face. “There. Now that we’ve got that out of the way, I hope we can —”