Page 42 of Eluvonia
I take a long breath, cataloging the scents, the sights—theDragons. Some in their human forms, wings tucked neatly behind them, move freely through the marketplace. Others haul carts laden with barrels or baskets of bread, their voices carrying over the din of bartering and conversation.
“This place is… lively,” I mutter, eyeing the market stalls overflowing with goods.
“Lively,” Declan snorts. “That’s one word for it.” His gaze flicks to a display of glistening fish, their scales catching the light, then to a pile of exotic fruits almost too vibrantly colored to be real. “At least they eat well.”
Kaida keeps his stride even, his grip firm on my arm. “Keep your mouth shut. Don’t act out. ”
I huff and scowl up at him, but keep quiet.
We pass a stage near the center of the village where a male Dragon is setting up some kind of display, though no one seems to pay him much attention. Off to the side, a group of Fae—small and slender—shuffle behind Dragon families, their heads bowed, their simple, tattered clothing blending into the background.
They don’t speak, don’t make eye contact. They exist on the edges, their presence a quiet hum beneath the village’s bustling energy.
A sour taste curls at the back of my throat. I glance at Declan, who watches them too, his expression carefully blank.
“See something interesting?” Kaida asks, his tonedeceptively light.
I meet his gaze, my voice just as even. “Just taking in theatmosphere.”
He leans in slightly, his breath warm against my ear. “Good. Keep taking it in, but don’tinterfere.”
I roll my eyes. “Youreallythink I’d do something that stupid?”
Declan coughs, poorly disguising a laugh.
Kaida’s smirk is slight but pointed. “Yes.”
I grit my teeth but keep my mouth shut. For now.
We come to a stop in front of a large building with strange symbols etched into its wooden doors. Declan leans in close to my ear. “It says ‘inn’,” he explains, his breath warm against my skin.
My cheeks heat, but before I can say anything Declan places a hand on the small of my back, gently guiding me inside.
“An inn?” I ask, furrowing my brows as we step through the threshold. “Tura mentioned that before, but what exactly is it?”
Declan chuckles softly, his voice rich and steady. “It’s a place where we can rest and get some warm food.”
Inside, the inn is loud and bustling. To the right, a large area hums with the sounds of Dragons laughing, drinking, and boasting loudly over one another. The floor is littered with tankards and half-eaten meals. To the left, a set of stairs winds upward, leading to rooms above.
At the center of it all stands a podium, where a plump, balding man waits, his small brown wings pressed tightly against his broad frame. His bright smile stretches even wider as we approach, practically glowing with a mix of anticipation and warmth.
“Welcome! How can I help you fine sirs?” he asks, his voice enthusiastic and cheerful.
Kaida grunts. “Just looking for some food, then we’ll be on our way,” he says, already walking toward the tavern area.
The male calls after him, “Heard there was a nasty storm rolling in from the south, might want to book a room now while I still have them.”
Kaida stops, but only briefly, before continuing past him with a scoff. Declan, however, steps forward. “Thank you for the advice,” he says with his winning smile. “We’ll let you know if we change our minds.”
The male nods and smiles back, gesturing toward the tavern.
Declan leads me into the bustling room. Dragons are scattered throughout, engaged in conversation or feasting. The air is thick with the scent of roasted meat and ale, the warmth of the hearth unable to chase away the tension settling in my chest.
Then I see them.
A group of Fae near the back, their necks adorned with metal shackles, moving like ghosts through the crowded space. They carry trays laden with large drinks and heavy platters of food, their movements swift, precise—practiced. Their heads remain bowed, their shoulders tense, as if their very presence is an inconvenience rather than a necessity.
A sharp pang lances through me, coiling into something dark.
