Page 101 of Deadwood
I enjoyed the breakfast I’d found waiting in the kitchen of my own house, complete with berries, bison sausage, and a muffin. Then I’d sat on the couch, enjoying the book that was sitting on the armrest. Along with the leather-bound novel had been a half-empty vial of strength magic, its glowing, purple liquid shining in the rays of the sun. I wasn’t sure who had been in here while I’d slept, but I took advantage of the forgotten vial, refilling it and reveling in the power that flowed through me like the blood in my veins.
After filling the vial up to the cork, I’d flipped through the contents of the book, taking in every piece of information I could. The pages inside had tiny script and large drawings of various types of dragons. I never would have thought so many breeds existed, and while the knowledge written within the book intrigued me, it was the art I couldn’t take my eyes away from. Each was unique, painted with colors to match their true form in order to blend into their natural biome.
My fingers stroked over the painting of a white dragon with ice-blue eyes, nearly identical to the one that’d saved me in the Brimstone Mountains. It felt like weeks had passed since then, but it’d been merely days. The top of the page was titled Snow Dragon, indicating which breed this one was. That had to be what the female dragon was, having shot ice from her mouth to freeze people in place, then obliterate them into tiny chunks with one sweep of her powerful tail.
I’d have never thought this to be possible, but now, it simply amazed me that all of this existed in a world I once thought was simple, boring. Serpentine was far from any of that.
A knock at the door drew my attention away from the pages, and reluctantly, I closed the book, leaving it on the cushion as I headed for the door. As soon as I opened it, Siara appeared with a breath of relief.
“Oh, good. You’re dressed. Let’s go,” she said, stepping to the side and ushering me forward with far too much enthusiasm.
“Where?” Her politeness toward me took me off guard every time, though it was a relief compared to the harshness the majority of people I came across treated me with.
“It’s market day!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms out.
I blinked, not understanding the excitement.
She sighed. “When a bunch of tradespeople come through town with rare items from all over the continent, even overseas. I want to shop, and I want you to come.”
“That’s a lot of wants.”
She rolled her eyes. “Flynt’s busy, so he wouldn’t come with me, and I figured you might want to see what it’s all about.”
Out of all of her other options in this town, she’d thought to invite me. The sentiment alone sent warmth spreading through my chest.
“I don’t have a lot of money on me,” I said. One of the guards had given me a few coins in case I needed to buy something while they were healing, but it wasn’t enough for any rare items.
She grabbed my hand, pulling me out the door. “That’s fine. If you want something, just ask.”
I barely had time to close the door behind me as she led me down the porch step and into the street. Ahead, people were everywhere, and my guard instantly went up at the thought of them possibly not being human. Was Siara fae? Was this a trap? But if she was, she hadn’t shown any sort of hostility toward me to prove it. Maybe Bowen was right, and they weren’t monsters. But if that was true, then why were they thought to be extinct? Why not reveal themselves?
Leaving the small strip of houses, Siara pulled me into the throng of people as we entered the main street. It was an effort not to bump shoulders with some of them, a few casting dirty looks my way when I got too close.
“Siara, are you sure I should be out here?” I asked, trying to keep my voice low. It was no secret who I was related to, and that would always make me a target.
“Stick me with me and you’ll be fine,” she replied over her shoulder. She must’ve caught the worried look in my eye because she slowed, walking alongside me. She held a hand up, and between the tips of two fingers, electricity sizzled. The confirmation hit me like a brick.
“You’re fae, too,” I whispered.
She nodded. “Bowen told me you found out yesterday.”
Had he gone straight to her after leaving me in the woods? Was there something going on between the two of them, and I was too naive to see it? But why did I even care? He wasn’t mine to be jealous over.
“But you don’t need to worry,” she went on. “You’re safe here.”
I almost snorted at the word. It seemed as if I was anything but safe anywhere, let alone in a town full of criminals.
“How do you and Bowen know each other anyway?” I asked, curiosity getting the best of me.
“I was friends with Flynt first, but when Bowen’s dad died and he shoved everyone away, I was sort of…persistent. He wanted to wilt away. I mean, the man was doing everything he could to—” She stopped, glancing at me. “I guess I shouldn’t get into that part. But long story short, he was a shell of the man he is today, and I helped him get through it. I lost my family when I was young, grew up an orphan, and Flynt always made sure I was fed and had shelter. After Bowen snapped out of it, they just kind of brought me into the group.” She gave a little shrug. “Became the family I always wished for, but never got lucky enough to have.”
I gnawed on the inside of my cheek, my heart hurting for both her and Bowen, and the pasts they had had to endure. It made me feel guilty for feeling even remotely miserable in my own life when others surely suffered worse.
“But anyway, that’s all old news,” she said, brushing it off like she hadn’t just dropped an emotional bomb. “They’re stuck with me now.”
“I’m sure stuck is the last word they’d use,” I replied.
“You’re giving my ability to be clingy far too little credit,” she teased, all too aware I was starting to see it bright as day.
