The tall brick buildings that made up the town of Berillian encircled her like a maze. Talon-like lanterns levitated above every door, filled with burning circles of light. The road she walked was barely broad enough to fit three people standing shoulder to shoulder. The city was alive with buzzing chatter, the rolling of carts, clinking of drink, and a shout from a merchant every once in a while.
Someone behind Aurelie shouted, "For the clink of a drink," and a rumble of voices from all over met the man in the song. She couldn't quite catch onto the words now that the crowd had picked them up but felt wrapped in the jolly mood of the city.
Lights illuminated strange faces, none of which seemed the least bit interested in her. From what Jermyn told her, she expected every passerby to first stop and thoroughly examine her face but the crowd moved forward as one, everyone was much too wrapped in their own business to notice the person in front of them. Aurelie imagined that she could set herself alight without any of them noticing until their own clothes caught fire.
Nonetheless, Aurelie tightened the stings of her cloak around her neck to be sure, and held on to her hood, pushing past rows and rows of people. She looked down at her feet, trying not to tread on anyone's heel.
There were barely any signs on the doors. The last one she saw was, Healer, rubbed against a dilapidated door with what looked like white paint. That was about four blocks back.
How was she ever going to find Daerious? Was she to walk up to every man in the town and ask? Jermyn had been wrong twice now. Firstly, about the two hundred steps he told her it would take to reach Berillian, which she still felt foolish over, and secondly, about the happenings in the town. To notice every face in a town this big would take a whole lot of organization, and there had been no guards at the gate, no lookouts on the upper levels of the buildings, and no guards patrolling the streets.
This made everything Jermyn told her questionable, to say the least. She was beginning to think that everything he told her was an outright lie. She knew the seed he gave her possessed some sort of magic. One just like it grew when she placed it in the dirt by Marianne's cabin. But did that matter if the man he told her to find did not exist? If she followed his advice and caused a big ruckus in the town, what would the seed do to aid her if Daerious and his men didn't stalk the town like Jermyn said they did?
The road led her into a square. The talon lanterns scattered in the sky, bound by nothing. A statue of a man stood in the center. His big eyes, long nose, and thin lips, almost exactly mimicked all of Uncle Kaiden's features. She stepped closer and examined the golden plaque at his feet. His Royal Highness, Emile Dranoir, 991 â 50th Day of Division, it read.
The Day of Division was celebrated as the day the first dragon King, Lucias Dranoir successfully ended the war between Highfire and the Icelands by unleashing the curse of frost upon the enemy's land. It froze their land, their blood, and left them to suffer immortality.
It is said that if an Icelandian tries to cross the border into Highfire, a mere puddle remains the second their toe touches the ground.
"Father," she hissed a greeting to the statue. Even in stone, the King looked smug. She watched him for a long time. People came and went, admiring him before moving on to a different activity but she remained, glaring at him as if he could feel her hatred burning him.
Someone bumped into her shoulder. The hair at the back of her neck stood up. She looked to the side without turning, fearing that someone had noticed her behavior.
"Scuse me, ma'am," she heard the voice of a passerby call out.
She took a deep breath and stepped away from the statue, spitting at its feet before turning completely away.
The size of the town gave her a sense of invisibility. It was so big and busy that she felt herself disappear further with every step. Tables and chairs were scattered all over the square. Large, bright-colored signs were above every door, a needle and thread on one, a cross on another. Aurelie stopped at a sign displaying a loaf of bread and a keg.
Where else would a group of watchful rebels gather other than a town-square tavern? She felt hopeful walking in, half expecting Daerious to open the door for her and lead her to his party of big yet inconspicuous and scary looking rebels. One would have an eyepatch, she thought with a smile.
She stepped inside. A murmur echoed through the crowd, a woman's laugh loudest above all others. Aurelie walked towards the wooden counter, where a man stood pouring drinks.
The bar and the furniture were made from dark wood. Tables and chairs stood on the dusty floor, muddy footprints led in and outside. Two candles burned on each table, the windows were coated with stains of brown.
"What can I get ya, miss?" asked a young lady, popping out from under the counter, her blonde hair tucked back into a tight bun. Forcing a smile, she rested her hands on her hips. Her mouth curved down once she got a better look at Aurelie's torn clothes and dirty face.
Aurelie knew the state of her clothes and general appearance, the last thing she needed was the opinion of a barmaid. "If I were looking for someone," Aurelie said, leaning closer to the bar, "would you be the right person to ask?"
"I might be." Her eyes darted around the room, rested on something for a suspicious amount of time, and settled back on Aurelie. "Who's it you're looking for?" she said louder than necessary.
"You know what," Aurelie smiled politely, her heart lurching into her throat, "I think I'll look for him myself a bit before I bother you."
As Aurelie turned to go, she felt a hand grab her wrist. The barmaid laid halfway over the counter, her hand stretched out and fingers tightly clasped around Aurelie's wrist.
"What's the hurry, love?"
A set of footsteps approached, and a hand grasped her shoulder.
"Thank you, Darla," said the man who had grabbed her. His fingers dug into her shoulder. A whiff of liquor blew past Aurelie's nose.
Aurelie tried to turn to get a look at his face but was rather violently pushed back. "Have I done something wrong, sir?" she asked, her teeth clenched and her heart pounding something wicked.
straightened her back, and moved her shoulder. "I am from out of town, sir."
"Sir!" he cried. "Gordon, did you hear that?" He swung around, pressing against Aurelie and pushing her slightly down under the pressure of his weight.
She felt her hands warm and a hot flush spread across her cheeks. Her magic stirred, making her curse nervously under her breath.
The other man laughed and his heavy footsteps back closer.
Aurelie pursed her lips, her nostrils flaring. "Please," she said, raising her voice, "I'll leave if you want." The vein in her temple pulsed and a nauseating pain flickered from the back of her neck to her eye.
Her eyes searched for Darla, but she had forgotten all about Aurelie and stood talking to a couple of red-faced drunks on the other corner of the bar.
"If I wanted you to leave," the man holding bent down and spoke into her ears, his wet, hot breath warming her neck, "I'd ha' kicked you out on your ass."
Aurelie gritted her teeth so hard that the feeling echoed through her bones and made her cringe. "Let go."
His free hand gripped her other shoulder, he spun her around to face him, and spoke, "You dare talk back to a member of the royal force?"
She shut her eyes for the fear of having them burst into flame right before him. "No, I'm sorry. I justâ"
"You'll just follow me, please." He almost wheezed with laughter when he said it and no one but he seemed to find the matter hysteretic at all.
The tavern was suspiciously quiet. Aurelie's eyes darted from face to face, noticing that they had all looked anywhere but in Aurelie's direction. It felt as if a sleeping curse had fallen on the lot of them. Then she turned to Darla, their eyes met briefly, hers widened at the sight of the fire staring back at her, and then she left through a swing door at the back of the bar, dragging the barman behind her.
Aurelie's hand pressed firmly against her captor's elbow. "Let go of me."
Aurelie's pulse drummed in her ears. There was no wrong move to make, she was cornered. She sat paralyzed, holding on to the guard's hand. He swung his free hand back to hit her but Gordon took a quick step toward him and grabbed it before it could reach her face.
The two of them shared a look. He had not been happy with Gordon's interruption but turned to her face when Gordon gestured him to.
With a gasp, he released the hold he hand on her shoulder, took a step back, and slung his arm around his waist before bowing his head almost all the way down to his knees. "Princess, I am at your mercy," he said and dropped down to his knee.
Gordon bowed quickly too but did not take his eyes off her. "Your Majesty," he said, his voice trying to mask the vibration of his shaking body, "if you are to follow us to the courthouse, we will be happy to call a carriage to escort you back to the castle."
Aurelie swallowed. Her head felt as if it shook with every thud of her heart. "I cannot do that, I'm afraid."
"I'm going to have to insist," Gordon said, his hand reaching for the hilt of his sword.
The front door of the tavern burst open and knocked into the wooden wall. Aurelie's eyes darted to it, her shoulders jumping in fright. A burst of fire flew toward the door and spread around the frame once it hit. People screamed and rushed from the seats closest to the fire.
A hand caught the door as it swung back. A man with thick blonde curls and a long blue cloak stood in the doorway, his bow, prepared with an arrow, held lazily at his side.
"Captain Gordon," he said, raising his bow to his head in a mock salute, "Jenk." He lowered his head toward the two guards before her. "Pleasure, as always."
"It'll do you good to keep out of this one," Gordon said, his sword ready in his hands.
The man at the door turned his head to look at the fire engulfing the doorway and spreading upward toward the ceiling and bent his head to dodge it as he stepped through the doorway.
Ignoring him, he turned to the people in the tavern. "On your way, lads," he said, and pointed toward the swing door at the back of the tavern. The beat of footsteps began to rush out of the tavern.
A frame of white crawled around Aurelie's vision. The fire at the door was making her feel ill. She felt it feeding off her still but didn't know how to put it out. Her hands shook and her knees felt as if they were slowly losing their bone and turning to jelly.
Faces popped up outside the windows of the tavern. Gordon looked around slowly, his jaw tightening as more and more people had gathered. A man waved once Gordon's eyes stopped on him and smiled wickedly.
He let down his sword and the Jenk followed his direction.
"He'll search every godforsaken hole you crawl into if you take her," Gordon said. It wasn't a threat. In fact, he didn't even sound angry, he sounded concerned. "Nowhere will be safe for you." He sighed heavily. "And if something happens to her in your care, Daerious . . . God have mercy on you and every last mutt you know."
Daerious? Aurelie's heart thumped at hearing that name. Her body released itself from the fire engulfing the inn as if it had been waiting for the confirmation of safety before giving up on the fight it knew it wouldn't win. A sharp pain stabbed the space behind both her eyes and jumped to the back of her head where it spread like lightning.
Gordan stepped away and lifted his hands. "Go on then," he shouted, "sign your death warrant, boy!"
A line of thick warm moisture ran down Aurelie's nose. She wiped it with the back of her hand and observed the crimson stripe that stained her palm.
Light spun around her, and the image of Gordan split into three. She rubbed her eyes and shook her head, but nothing changed. The white frame around her vision spread until everything before her faded in color and glowed bright white.
Aurelie saw the waves of Daerious's cloak as he approached her. Another man jumped through the door, then another. The fire spread onto the floor.
Shapes of people gathered outside. Their faces were a blur of colors. Aurelie grabbed onto the closest thing to her, a tall bar chair, and leaned against it. Her knees gave out, and she felt herself sliding forward.
She felt a hand wrap around her from behind. "Don't you dare faint," she heard Daerious whisper in her ear. "I'm not carrying you all the way up to the inn, you hear me?" She felt a hand under the bends of her knees. Closing her eyes, she heard the murmur around her fall silent. A light vibration came from her bag. The seed had found Daerious.