Page 70 of Bloodguard

“I’m used to it,” I grumble.

She chuckles, and I feel my mood lighten even more. Funny how a day out with Maeve will do that to a person.

There are few shops on this primarily residential street. One barely the size of Maeve’s cottage, but with tables spilling out into the street before it, advertises hot, spicy cider and meat breads. The scent has my stomach growling, and luckily for me, this seems to be our destination. Unluckily, Maeve drops my hand before stepping inside. The place is nothing special by noble standards, but it’s dark and defensible, and the scent of warm bread mingles with that of freshly brewed ale. It’s my kind of place.

A seleno fairy, as sensual as they are frightening, fans the hot cups of cider she places on a large tray with the fingered tips of her leathery black wings. I tense. In terms of mobility, winged creatures have a natural upper hand. Thankfully, the room we’re in is too small for flight. Her ebony bat ears droop when thebang,bang,bang,crashof steins and ceramic plates precedes a row of cursing.

A guapilla struggles to place the broken plates and cups she’s dropped back onto her tray, her long green-and-blue hair as frazzled as she is and her gray skin blushing to purple. “Stasia, I’m so sorry,” she says. “It won’t happen again.”

Stasia, the seleno fairy, blinks back at Maeve and gives her a look—one that says she curses the day she hired the girl. “It’sfine, Gabi,” she bites out through her fangs.

It’s not fine. Not for Gabi. At least not on land. In water, guapillas use their flippers to swim impressively quickly and majestically. On land, be it genes or some type of curse cast onto her people, their feet face backward. She must have some reason for being here instead of her homeland, but I’m sure as shit not asking her.

Gabi walks forward—I mean, backward—or…never fucking mind. I don’t know where the hell she’s going, and neither does she. The precariously stacked pieces of plate and steinclink,clinkon her tray. She kicks forward—yes, definitely forward this time, seeing as her knees are backward, too.

“Your order will be up soon, Princess,” Stasia tells Maeve—two meat pies, four sausage rolls, one cup of hot cider, and their tallest mug of ale. I almost swooned when she said it. Stasia takes in Maeve’s scars. She reaches out to hold her chin. Maeve, understandably caught off guard, freezes. Gently, Stasia tips Maeve’s face to the side to better see the injured tissue. It’s only because Maeve allows it that I allow it, too. Stasia releases her. “I’m sorry this happened to you.”

“Thank you, Stasia,” Maeve says quietly.

“But it is good to see you again after all these years.” Stasia bares her fangs, and Maeve responds with a smile.

Gabi finally makes it back to the serving station. Stasia, who looks tired and broken for reasons bigger than anyone present today, pats Maeve with her leathery wing-hand. More vampiric than their colorful and pretty fairy cousins, the seleno are fierce warriors. They fought against Arrow when Old Erth was still young. It’s odd to find one here.

“A friend?” I ask.

Maeve doesn’t answer me until Stasia enters the small kitchen. “I cared for her daughter,” she says.

“A child?”

“No,” she replies. “Stasia and her daughter, Sueneh, came to Arrow like many others looking for work. When they couldn’t find a way to support themselves, Sueneh signed a contract to fight in the arena. She…didn’t win her last fight, and I couldn’t save her. What little she earned was enough for Stasia to start her business. It wasn’t enough to mend her heart. Losing her daughter broke her.”

“I can only imagine,” I say bitterly. I don’t have children, but may the heavens help anyone who hurts my little sisters.

Maeve glances up and rises to greet a pair she introduces to me as Uni and Neh-Neh, a cyclops couple and proud new parents. Maeve gushes when she sees the baby girl clutched in Uni’s beefy arms—apparently, she not only delivered the little thing but saved her life somehow. “She’s so curious,” Maeve says. “Look at the way her eye darts all around, taking everything in. Smart baby!” she coos.

After a brief catch-up—and who knew there were so many questions one could ask about one newborn baby?—Maeve returns to her seat and reaches for the cider Gabi successfully dropped off along with our food, pausing to blow on it before taking a sip. “I love babies.” She tastes her drink and smiles, then asks, “Do you…” Her voice trails off as a red flush creeps over her face.

Want children? Dream of family? I don’t know exactly what she’s about to ask me about babies. I only know that I refuse to let myself think that far ahead about my life. Not yet. Not until I’m a Bloodguard. “We should eat quick. It’s late,” I say, shoveling in a bite.

It takes only a few minutes to finish our meals, and soon we are headed back toward the market square to retrieve our horses.

The squalor of Arrow is too vast to hide in this area. The houses, which I can imagine were once made of brightly colored stones and sweeping curved roofs, with blooms overflowing their flower boxes, have been reduced to dull, empty spaces with broken roofs, the plant life dead and hanging like the long, blackened fingers of a goblin oak.

“I never would have known this part of Arrow existed,” I admit. “Even if I did and reported it back to those in Siertos, they’d never believe me.” I curse under my breath. “None of the realms would. Everyone outside this kingdom thinks it’s a paradise. What fools we’ve been.”

“You’re not fools,” Maeve quietly insists. “It was better when my grandmother still ruled, but it wasn’t perfect even then. Upon her injury, Arrow suffered—and it’s not just our realm but also abroad. Vitor balances our interests with the larger economy of Old Erth. We send aid to our allies where needed, and we barter and trade to keep our defenses and coffers strong. But the entirety of Old Erth is strained. Soro believes war is inevitable.” She glances at me. “Maybe it is.”

“What will Arrow do then?” I ask.

Maeve’s face stills, but she keeps walking. “Arrow will fight.”

“What about Vitor?” He’s the one in control now. He makes the decisions.

She lowers her voice. “My uncle will do whatever he must to keep Arrow strong.”

Maeve’s hair flutters like wings against her back as a brisk wind cuts through the alley.Mm, rosemary and mint.I wish she would wear it loose like this all the time. It suits her.

We proceed. Some ransacked shops and two-story homes are roofless, their wooden upper floors falling through the ceiling and pushing out through once-grand windows.

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