Page 3 of A Dagger in the Ivy

Her nose wrinkles as if I’ve said something vulgar.

I square my shoulders. “I seek the persons responsible for binding the fae outside the town.”

She swallows, her eyes darting toward the town’s border before hastily returning to meet my gaze. “They’re dead, then? The fae?”

I struggle to keep sorrow from hanging my head. What did she expect? That the carnoraxis would turn away and spare them? “Yes. All three. Tell me who was heartless enough to forsake their fellow citizens.”

She toys with her lip, a shadow falling over her face as she deliberateswhat to disclose. “They wouldn’t let any of us have our say. They said they were doing what was best for our town.”

“Tell me whotheyare.”

“You’ll find the men you’re looking for two streets down at the butcher’s.” She doesn’t wait for me to respond and simply turns to continue her sweeping.

The butchers. How fucking appropriate.

CHapter

Two

It’s clear that there’s more to the story than meets the eye, turmoil or other secrets that have yet to be unearthed. The shop woman said she did not agree with the men who strung up the third-born fae. Perhaps the townspeople voted on how to handle the situation. Or maybe it was a decision made with haste, a resolution formed by panic and desperation. Whatever the case, it’s taking every ounce of patience I can muster to not lash out at everyone with whom I come into contact.

With a sigh, I turn. The morning air is crisp as I navigate the bustling streets of Aragheni, following the shopkeeper’s directions to the butcher’s shop. People are already out and about, eager to start their day despite the recent carnoraxis attack. Their faces bear traces of fear and anxiety, yet there’s also a sense of relief and gratitude for being alive. I weave through the crowd, my steps purposeful as I make my way toward my destination.

The sun swallows shadows as it rises higher in the sky, illuminating the cobblestone streets and colorful buildings of the town. Shop signs sway gently in the breeze, their vibrant colors catching my eye as I pass. The smell of freshly baked bread wafts through the air, mingling with the earthy scent of morning dew.

As I approach the butcher’s shop, I encounter a small gathering of people outside, waiting for it to open. They exchange hurried greetings and lively chatter, their voices blending into a comforting hum. I steel myself, my hand brushing the handle of my dagger, but before I can march forward, fingers settle on my arm. My head swivels to find Aila Cheng at my side.

“You’re not going in there alone, are you?” Aila smirks, straightening the lapels of her uniform. Her silky, black hair, which is tied tightly into a bun, catches the sun.

“Your search led you here too, I gather.”

“Something tells me this group is not among the favorites in town.”

“I appreciate the support, but this might get messy.”

Aila scoffs. “Messy’s my middle name. My father suggested Laretta, but my mother overruled him.”

I can’t help but laugh at her joke. It’s a welcome respite from the torment running through my mind. Aila isn’t only a skilled soldier, she’s also one of my closest friends.

She elbows me. “Besides,someonehas to keep you out of trouble.”

“Trouble seems to find me regardless. I just can’t fucking understand why anyone would sacrifice their own brother.”

She wraps her hand around the hilt of her sword. “Some people fear death enough to do anything to protect themselves, even if it means betraying their own flesh and blood.”

“It’s despicable. But we need answers, and I won’t rest until we get them.”

“Then let’s get those answers.” Aila begins to push through the crowd, not caring to bother with politeness. “Make way!”

I’m a step behind her, preparing myself for the confrontation ahead, my heart pounding in anticipation. I know that confronting the heartless men won’t be easy, but I owe it to the fallen fae to seek justice for their senseless sacrifice.

Aila and I stride into the butcher shop, and the bell above the door chimes, announcing our arrival. The shop is small and cramped, shelves lined with various cuts of meat, while hooks hang from the ceiling,displaying carcasses of animals. The air is laden with the metallic scent of blood and the sharp tang of freshly caught game.

One of the butchers stands behind the counter, his apron stained with blood, his expression wary as he eyes us. His colleague, a burly man with a scruffy beard, pauses in his work, casting a curious glance our way.

My presence fills the room with an air of authority, my posture straight and my gaze unwavering as I approach the counter. Aila steps to the side to allow me to push forward, her expression steely, ready for whatever confrontation may arise.

“Pardon the interruption.” I only raise my voice enough to be heard over the grumbling in the room. “We’re looking for those responsible for hanging up the fae last night.”

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