Page 2 of Milk and Honey

I slid the silver chain over my head, the links trickling against the back of my neck as they settled against my skin—too quickly, I thought sadly, mourning the loss of my braid once more. A distant rustle and soft snort of a horse sounded high above, my uncovered ears clocking the noise before Glade. “Thank you, little spore. Now go! As fast as you can, faster than the night-hare that raced the dawn. Someone’s coming.”

Her hand shoved fearlessly between the bars, squeezing my fingertips before she slid it back out again, thankfully missing contact with any of the metal. “I’ll save you, Uncle Elim. You’ll see. I’ll be so fast!”

I smiled for her, even though worry slammed my heart inside my chest. I shooed her away gently and she took the steps two at a time, as fast as she’d promised, back up the twist of stairs. I held my breath with anxious hope, and long moments of silence told me she’d likely escaped notice. Soon after, the sounds of several riders grew closer, a jangle of bridles indicating the steeds were being tied up near the entrance to my prison. I hastily draped the necklace chain beneath the collar of my black tunic, sliding the softly-glowing pendant around between my shoulder blades and out of sight.

As heavy boots made their way down the stairs, I fell to my knees on the packed clay floor of my cell, facing the bars and repeating the final lines of what would have been a lengthy traditional prayer, eyes squeezed closed until an unfortunately-familiar voice rang off the walls of my cell.

“Get up, you spineless worm! Where is she?” Vanor growled, trying as usual to puff himself up and negate the glaring height difference between himself and his taller brother.

I made a show of getting up slowly, careful to keep the pendant at my back and out of sight. Gretvir and his kin had only come to power by his marriage to my Aunt, gone many years now from a fall from the Howling Cliffs, a fall I was beginning to doubt had actually been an accident. An idea had formed while I stalled: I only needed a little misdirection, some time to keep Glade safe and escape my cell.

“The child? She’s apparently run off to the Howling Cliffs to join your late mother. Seems your family’s brides all find impalement on the mountain’s crags preferable to yours.” The jab landed exactly where I’d hoped, right in the center of Jerid’s infamously fragile pride.

He snarled, shoving past Vanor, lurching forward, and forgetting the conditions of my confinement in the process. I bit back a pleased smile as he banged a palm against the iron bars to intimidate me, yanking it away with a hiss of pain as the metal burned.

An amused snort quickly disguised as a cough sounded behind them, forcing him to spin around to glare at the two horsemen that had accompanied them down here. “Well? You heard him—go! Get mounted up and get out there! Drag that little halfling whelp back for her wedding night!”

His guards clambered hastily up the stairs as he growled the orders, the stamp of hooves overhead heralding their swift departure in the wrong direction, blessedly far from my niece’s destination. Jerid’s cold gaze snapped back to me with a cruel smile once they were clear of the tower. “I’ll gladly assist the girl with a stumble afterwards. I wonder if she’ll scream as sweetly as our mother did.”

Cold dread poured through me at his nonchalant confession as Vanor slung an arm around his brother’s shoulder, echoing his merciless expression with a smirk. “And when the dawn breaks like her pretty little spine, we’ll come back to arrange a meeting between you and your little niece, followed by a celebration worthy of the Bright Court as our father takes the throne at last. Sleep well, cousin.”

Jerid chuckled, thumping his brother on the back as they took the stairs, leaving me once again with only moonlight for company.

Moonlight and one important stroke of luck, that was.

I pulled the shard-of-night back over my shoulder, admiring the tiny flecks of glowing brilliance in the small black crystal as I eyed the point. My eyes darted around my cell, settling on a crumbling bit of mortar beneath the beam of moonlight on the wall. Slipping the chain from around my neck, I got to work changing my destiny.

MEL

I woke up rough despite the relaxing bath I’d taken before bed, the alarm yanking me out of an ill-formed dream that was somehow set in both my childhood bedroom and a shopping mall I’d been to exactly once, seven years ago. I grumbled irritably and tossed off the tangled blankets, rubbing my eyes with a yawn and getting adjusted to the late afternoon sun through the windows. What was intended to be a deep, cleansing breath ended with a cough as I realized I was really overdue on laundry, specifically my bedsheets. Oh well, no harm, no foul there. I hadn’t had an “overnight guest” for more than a year: the parade of obnoxious, handsy men at work had somewhat soured the concept.

I’d forgotten to reset my alarm last night, the current hour not taking into account my unexpected double shift and the need for sleep it demanded. Another yawn snuck out before I begrudgingly accepted that today might be a day for two lattes. Granted, my bank account wasn’t exactly hefty until I got the week’s pay from Vic tonight, but coffee was basically a medical expense at this point, and a tired dancer never made good tips.

After pulling on some jeans and a shirt that just barely passed the sniff test—I really needed to do laundry—I grabbed my outfit pieces for the night’s hopefully single shift and shoved them in a duffle, along with the lowest heels I could find in my messy hellhole of a closet. If I didn’t give my back a break it was going to take one for me; Rissa’s suggestion about a barefoot set was honestly starting to sound appealing, if kinda sticky.

Blegh, on second thought, maybe not.

After I’d gotten to my car and tossed my duffel in the backseat, I was promptly treated to an oh shit moment as my engine fought me on turning over. I groaned and rested my head on the steering wheel while I took a few deep breaths, the mounting bills continually listing themselves like an info board at the airport. My rent was a week late, I needed to get to the doctor for a checkup, and even though I’d dumped a ton of money into keeping my car running, it was very overdue for a replacement. I eventually coaxed my little shitkicker of a vehicle into starting with a sigh of relief, but stress kept my shoulders tight all the way to Second Steep, the closest coffee place to work.

When I walked in, I was all ready to flirt with Mat, the store’s stoic wall of a barista that I liked to tease. I probably annoyed him a little, but he never protested or asked me to stop, even when I’d checked in with him before about it. I was kind of forward as a general rule, but it came with the job, and I think Mat knew as well as I did that I was never serious. I’d come to think of him as a sort of parasocial friend, if only because I saw him nearly every day as I grabbed my coffee.

My double-entendre died on my tongue as I saw the state of the shop. It was something a random customer might overlook, but I came here nearly every day, and the absence of tea tins and boxes and some damaged decor told the story as the door’s bell chimed in my wake. “Jesus, Mat! What the hell happened here, honey?”

A woman I’d dubbed laptop girl on my previous visits suddenly appeared from behind the counter, holding a box of coffee filters and giving me the look. I knew it well, having had more than a few angry wives and girlfriends tracking down credit card charges to the front door of the Scarlet Pole. Why Mat, you sly dog. You tagged laptop girl?

“Here, I got that, Bailey.” Mat wandered in from the back, taking the box of filters from her and bending down to kiss her with a smile. Smart man. I could practically feel the other woman’s claws sliding back in from the other side of the counter as Mat reinforced his apparent loyalties. That said, I thought Mat was a great guy and I had no interest in giving him unwarranted headaches by giving Bailey the wrong idea, so now it was my turn.

“Bailey, is it? I’m so happy to see Mat’s got great taste! I’m sorry we haven’t met properly before now, I noticed you the last few times I came in and wanted to say hi but I’m perpetually late for things and always rushing around.”

To her credit, she only hesitated a moment before offering her hand across the counter, which I shook with a reassuring grin. “Bailey Brown. Second Steep is my parent’s…and Mat’s, of course.” The shy smile she offered my normally buttoned-up barista was immediately returned, and my god, was Mat actually blushing? This was too damn cute.

“Melisandre, but everyone calls me Mel. I just popped in for a quick latte on my way to work, but are you guys okay? Looks like the place got ransacked.” I frowned sympathetically at an overturned chair in the corner.

Bailey nodded, her expression oddly evasive. “Yeah, some uh…hooligans. You know. Just kids messing around I think. I think we got it handled, but I appreciate you asking. A latte, you said?”

I nodded, and as she turned to make it, gave a soft curse at an empty sugar container tilted out at the edge of the counter before poking her head in the back to ask Mat if there was any left. When he answered in the negative, I interrupted her to say that honey was fine—it wasn’t how I normally took my latte, but it’d be a nice treat for the day, something a little different. With another soft sigh at the empty coffee pot, she craned her neck to look for Mat, shrugged when he didn’t appear, and grabbed an unfamiliar canister of grounds to brew a fresh batch.

Shortly after, she handed my latte over with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I usually stick to doing the books. I’m not really good at this part of things. Let me know if it tastes okay?”

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