Page 7 of Shade of Ruin

I know what I need to do. I need to go to Draenyth, the capital city of the Fae. While there are other cities that are inhabited by the Fae, they’re few and far between compared to the human cities, and none of them hold Calyr the Gold, the only chance I have of healing Hazel. How do I get there? No one in Blackgrove knows. That’s a certainty. It’s on the other side of the world from what I’ve been told.

Instead of falling into the emotions that beg me to give up, I try to revisit the lessons that Vesta taught me as a child about the Fae. They’re going to be very important in my coming travels. Maybe they’ll be important for other reasons since I’m half-Fae myself, something I need to accept rather than resent since there’s no changing it.

The Fae are all the races other than humans, but they’re ruled over by the High Fae, the ones that look and act most like humans. The stories say that the High Fae were created by dragons to tend to the needs of the world. I don’t know how that’s possible, since all I’ve heard about the High Fae is how cruel they are. The idea that dragons were as cruel as the Fae is one of the saddest things I could imagine.

The birds chirp and animals move through the grass and trees around me just like always, and I catalog them instinctively, my hunter’s mind never really stopping. A mourning dove sits high in a tree cooing next to its nest. Too high to climb for eggs. Too high to hit with my spear. A lizard races along the ground. Squirrels in low-hanging branches eat nuts and scream at me when I get too close.

I catalog it all and completely ignore it. Tonight, I’m not hunting. I’m not spending my time in the forest. Yet, I don’t want to forget any of it. These forests, even more than the townhouse, were my home for so long, and when I leave Blackgrove, I don’t know when I’ll be back. I want to remember these trees. This path. My home.

For the first time in my entire life, I wish my mother was here. I’ve always blamed her for the struggles I’ve had in life. She must have been why I made people nervous, since everyone loved my father. Father used to describe her as the most beautiful woman he’d ever met. He’d said that she was a force of nature, and when she swooped into Blackgrove, she had her pick of the men, and he never could figure out how he’d won her heart and hand.

She would know what to do now. She’d have answers. Where’d she go? Why’d she leave? Was it because she was Fae? Did the people of Blackgrove force her out? Or did she really run away like I’d always been told?

Before I could walk, she’d left and never returned. The only thing she’d left behind was the ring I’ve worn ever since childhood. My father was never angry. No, he’d spent plenty of evenings sitting on our porch staring out into the distance thinking about her, but he’d never said a negative word about her.

I may resent her, but he never did. Aunt Prudence and Uncle Trevor had plenty of curses to spit her way, but they have plenty to spit toward me as well, so I care little about their thoughts.

The road to Blackgrove is short, less than an hour’s walk, and as thoughts plague my mind, my feet carry me down the worn trail that even Aunt Prudence in her thick dresses can walk. The call of a jaybird screams from the trees, warning everything in the area that someone is here.

I look up at it, the black and blue bird glaring down at me. Part of me wishes I could scream at every little sound like that. But I’m not a bird, and it seems that when I scream, bad things happen. Instead, I’ll do my best to keep my head down and my temper leashed.

No different from a wolf on the trail of an elusive deer, I keep moving forward. Clear any obstacles that I stumble upon, and just keep following the path laid before me. I’ll ask Calum Hayes, the innkeeper, how to get to Stormhaven, the largest human city in southern Sylvantia. Someone there will know how to get to Draenyth.

I’m not worried about being able to provide for myself or protect myself on the road. I have my spear, and I have my wits. I’ll be fine. Unless I end up having to deal with the Fae.If that happens, I won’t have to worry because I’ll be dead, and everything will be very simple after that.

Chapter 4

All four Great Houses were necessary for balance. Each House and each King will force the world to shift in one direction at the expense of the others. Flames will push the world toward destruction and cleansing. Earth toward healing and stagnation. This is expected and normal.

The world is built on cycles.

~Vyran the Black, A History of Magic and Dragons

The Tilted Mug earnsmost of its money from the townsfolk who come for the bad ale, worse atmosphere, and the small amount of news from Stormhaven, the closest large city. But it has beds on the second floor. Not many, but more than one, and that’s all I need.

At least the Tilted Mug is a clean and honest establishment. The smell of stew wafts in from the kitchen and mingles with theyeasty scent of spilled ale. The tables are only a little wobbly, and the chairs are only a little sticky from the ale. There are dozens of people here, and their conversations drown out the sound of the crackling fire in the hearth. Locals, nearly every one of them, and their words mingle and mix until I can barely make out any of them individually.

Several of them puff on pipes, sending oily smoke rising into the air. The sweet scent of that smoke reminds me of when my father would sit on the porch of our little cottage and watch the sunset with me. He’d reminisced about my mother and tell me stories while I sat on his lap. The scent brings me back to happier times, but I have to pull myself away from them. I cannot live in the past, and the present requires a bed.

“I need a room,” I say to Calum Hayes as he fills another mug of ale, and I put two pennies on the bar. He’s a balding man in his late forties. Like everyone else in Blackgrove, I’ve known of him since I could walk, and while we’ve never interacted through the years, he hasn’t mistreated me.

“Just a moment,” Calum says without looking at me before he walks down the bar to a group of older men wearing dingy tunics and trousers, looking tired from days in the field. Most of the field crops won’t be ready for harvest yet, but the hay needs to be scythed and bundled. That’s hot and heavy work to do in the middle of the summer heat.

Just like in the forest, I feel a prickle at the back of my neck, and I turn around to see what danger there could be in Blackgrove’s inn. Like a shining star on a dark night, I see him sitting in a corner.

His eyes are on me, not bothering to hide his stare. Even though he wears a green cloak that covers most of his face, it’s like he’s glowing. His corner is dimmer than the rest of the dining hall, but I can’t pull my eyes away from him. I can’t even see his eyes, but I know what he is. A Fae. There’s no otherpossibility. Nothing sets him apart except for his obvious desire to stay away from everyone.

I can’t turn my eyes away from him. Is this what normal humans feel like when they look at me, when they see a Wyrdling?

Before I have time to think about it, Calum says solemnly, “You stay away from that one.”

I turn around and realize that Calum isn’t shunning me. I knew he’d rent me a room, but he’s treating me like any other person. “What is he? He’s…”

“That’s a High Fae. We don’t get them in these parts very often, but don’t let their prettiness get to you. They’re cold-hearted bastards, and they’ll watch an entire village burn if it helps them get whatever they’re looking for. They’re pretty, mind you, and every woman and probably half the men here are wondering what he looks like under that cloak. That’s how they get you, though. A pretty smile, a heavy coin purse, and a bit of magic that makes you think they can do anything.”

He’s serious with those words, but without waiting for a response, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a key. “Just because your mother was one of them doesn’t mean you should spend time with them, Miss Maeve. If that one takes an interest in you, there’s not a person in this entire village that can stop him from doing what he wants with you.”

The thought sends a shiver through me. I know what magic’s capable of now, and I run my finger over my wrist where that little shadowed tally mark shimmers on my skin. “Don’t worry, Calum. I’m on my way out of Blackgrove. Do you know how to get to Stormhaven?”

---