Page 56 of Blood Red Woes

The foster care system isn’t great. Let’s leave it at that.

I know he’s only trying to get my mind off what I did to Gladus—and sometimes it works. Other times, when I’m lying there at night, waiting to fall asleep, I can’t help but think back to the fight and everything she said.

Also, my dreams… they’re getting weirder. Stranger. I wake in the morning with a rapidly-beating heart and sweat on my hairline, clammy palms; the works. But the strangest thing is, once I convince myself I’m awake, the dreams get fuzzy, like their memory is once again fleeting and temporary.

Maybe the guilt over killing someone is heavier than I thought it’d be.

Regardless, I’ve never been more happy than I am when I see Laconia in the distance. It’s not home to me, but at least it’s a safe haven from the wilderness. Odd thing, though—on my way back to Laconia, I didn’t encounter anything. No afflicted animals or shadowstorms. It’s almost like, with Gladus gone, the land is trying to heal itself.

Yet another reason why some people would push me to go straight to Magnysia to take care of that empress, and then to Acadia to deal with the emperor. But it’s not my problem. I only went to Pylos to confront Gladus because of what her soldiers did in the marketplace.

I did it for Prim.

God, I hope that girl’s okay. I hope Frederick took good care of her and they had enough medicine in the upper district to fix her up.

It’s near midday when I arrive at the northern gate, and the guards have the doors open by the time I walk up. I get a lot of looks when I walk through the small fields where the inhabitants of the city make use of what little farming they can. They whisper amongst themselves, much like they did when I was first hauled into the city in chains.

Man, that feels like ages ago. Years. But in reality, it hasn’t been that long. This world, its people, its magic; they’re all still new to me.

I make it to the marketplace to see they cleaned up the area while I was gone. Stalls are haphazardly put back together. People come and go, buying or trading for what they need. It looks like just another day in Laconia. It’s hard to imagine the destruction those two soldiers created, the chaos, blood, and whispers of death they brought with them.

A small boy runs up to me, covered in dirt, his hair knotted. He can’t be more than seven or eight years old, all skin and bones. “Rey!” He says my name, apparently knowing it, and then he grabs my hand and starts to pull me along.

I don’t know who he is, but I can guess who he’s bringing me to. Though I should go up and try to see Kretia and the others in the conclave, there’s someone else I want to see, first.

The boy pulls me through the markets, to a set of stairs that lead down into the slums. Past the homes built of stone, he brings me to the newer shacks, where the refugees from all over Laconia now live, crammed together in such tiny spaces. He brings me to Frederick’s house, and the boy doesn’t even knock. He goes in and brings me with him.

Frederick is busy measuring out some bluish liquid when we walk in, and he nearly drops the glass tube in alarm. “What—”His brown eyes fixate on me, not the boy holding onto my hand, and his shock at our sudden presence fades. “Rey, you’re back.” He gives me a smile, but it’s strained. “Thank you, Kelah.”

The boy nods, releases my hand, and skips out the door, leaving me alone with Frederick. This time he doesn’t have any grease smears on his skin, so there’s that.

Frederick carefully sets the glass tubes down, wipes his hands on his trousers, and moves around the table to stand before me. As he does so, he studies me hard, like he’s looking for cracks or tears. “I was worried you wouldn’t come back,” he whispers. “When you went off, I didn’t get a chance to… I wasn’t able to say goodbye. It, uh… it bothered me more than I would’ve liked.”

I don’t really know what that’s supposed to mean, so I don’t say anything.

He takes a step toward me as he adds, “I’m glad you’re unharmed.” Suddenly I’m keenly aware of the fact that he’s less than a foot in front of me. A little bit too close, and the emphasis on his words make him sound way too serious.

Like he really means it or something, which is dumb, since he lied to me and can’t help me get home. Still haven’t forgotten about that.

“Did you—” Frederick swallows hard, his amber gaze boring into me as if he’s trying to peer into my soul. “What I mean to ask is, did you succeed? Is Empress Gladus still a threat to Laconia?” Is she dead, in other words.

I reach into my satchel and pull out the metal hilt. After setting it on the table, I ask, “Where is Prim?”

Frederick is now focused on the hilt. He reaches for it but stops short of touching it. “Oh, my. This is the Hilt of Storms. It’s said to have been passed from empress to empress throughout the ages. It is Pylos’s most famous and treasured—”

I don’t care about any of that. “Where is Prim?” When I ask it a second time, I say it a bit louder, and that causes Frederick to refocus on me.

“Of course,” he whispers. “I’ll bring you to her.” He offers me his hand, like we have to walk there hand-in-hand. We don’t, so I don’t get why he does it, why he looks at me so pleadingly with that outstretched hand.

I’m not happy with the man, and I don’t need to be led like a child through this city, but it doesn’t look like he’s going to take no for an answer. Or maybe I’m just tired from the journey and don’t want to fight more. Either way, after I pick up the hilt and stuff it back in my bag, I give him my hand.

It’s different than having a little boy lead you around. Frederick’s hand is man-sized, and just the warm feeling of it around my hand reminds me of things I’m missing that I didn’t even know I’m missing.

Is being touch-starved a thing? Because after being alone for so long, with no one but Rune as company, it’s kind of nice, even if I am still pissed off at the man for lying to me.

Frederick brings me through the slums, through the marketplace, to an area of Laconia I haven’t seen yet. Another field—this one with what animals they could save and bring with them. Chickens, goats, sheep; I spot a few cows in the distance, though they’re skinnier than they should be.

“What is this?” I ask, wondering if Prim is playing with the animals or something.

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