House Night

A few twists and bends later, Iris nearly ran into Aerowyn’s back as he stopped in front of another door, this one made not of the normal wood, but stone. The only detailing feature was a slim line running in an upside down U-shape around the edge of the stone, separating it just slightly from the rest of the architecture. He pushed on it a few times to no effect, cursing under his breath all the while.

“Damn…locked…piece…of…shit.” Each pause was accentuated with his shoulder now ramming into the stone, runes lighting up on the door at every contact.

“Move.” Colin squeezed past Iris and Aerowyn, pushing them back down the hallway a short way. Putting a hand on either side of the hallway for support, he leaned forward slightly and grunted as he kicked. His leg shot out like a charged piston, a brief afterimage of lightning searing its way into Iris’ retinas. For just a split second, the runes flared so strongly in an attempt to contain the colossal force behind Colin’s kick, but his foot blasted the stonework to smithereens, leaving behind a gaping hole in the center of the stone. Somehow, the outer edges were barely intact, some pieces falling off to the ground below.

No words were needed as they each ducked into the newly created hole one by one. As soon as Iris’ body was completely through, she was greeted by open air, and a breath of pent up exhaustion from the day worked its way out of her mouth.

They’d exited into a lush garden, one section filled with the same luminescent flowers in full bloom, regardless of the fact that it was night. Others were dormant, their petals closed and droopy. There was no time to properly appreciate the beauty of it, however, with Aerowyn rushing her along and Colin right behind. The three ran towards a towering row of trees that almost hid the castle wall behind, but Iris could just barely make it out in the illumination of the night.

Right before they reached the wall, Iris took one last inhale of the cloying garden scent, promising herself she would take time to visit more gardens again if she ever got the chance, especially the glowing ones.

Realizing they weren’t stopping, she started to worry their plan was to run right into the packed stone wall.

“Colin, grab her!” Aerowyn’s words confused her, except she didn’t have time to react. Colin’s arm looped around her, and with a burst of strength, he swung her around until she was draped over his back. She held onto his neck out of reflex, and it was a good thing too.

Colin slowed and planted his feet, bunching his legs up. Iris heard him take a deep breath, and the blood rushed out of her brain with the explosive change of momentum, his legs straightening and shooting them up over the wall.

When she came to just moments later, they had reached the peak of Colin’s jump. Iris felt weightless in that moment before the fall, and it was like time itself stood still as she gazed out on the city. Street lamps glistened with all the colors of the spectrum, and she could see the wall separating the Heights and the Crests, but her appreciation was cut short as gravity took its hold over them.

A scream tore from her throat and she was unsure if it was due to her fright or exhilaration. Landing on the other side, Colin’s legs bunched up once again to absorb the shock, and he let out a slight wince.

Iris thought he would put him down so they could continue, but Aerowyn—having just landed besides them—looked over, “This…could work,” he said, nodding his head. “Can you still carry her?”

Colin nodded.

“Good. Do you know where House Night’s residence is?” Aerowyn asked hopefully.

Another nod.

“Take her there, tell them you’re there in the name of the Woodsman. You’ll get there faster than I will, and they don’t know about my involvement yet, although they will soon, so I should be safer alone. Go, I’ll be there soon.”

Colin didn’t even question the strange moniker, and Iris almost lost her grip from the whiplash as Colin took off. She adjusted, pulling herself closer to Colin’s back, and his hair whipped across her face in their mad dash through the Heights.

Smells nice, the musk agreeing with her nose.

It would have been beautiful seeing the blurring lights blending into their surroundings, except the entire way Iris kept her eyes closed, no choice but to bask in his scent as she tried not to get motion sickness.

***

Aerowyn watched Colin and Iris blur away, and he set off after them.

No longer having to worry about Iris’ safety, he had time to rest his strained Trait. Hiding them like that had taken a huge toll on him in a way that was beyond the physical, spiritual, or mental. Especially because it was the first time he’d ever hid someone else with a Trait, he was shocked by the load he was forced to bear by hiding Iris from others’ senses while also hiding his own Trait.

Running into Milo must have been fate’s way of messing with him for all the years he’d served such a power-hungry family. House Night had put him in this position on a whim, and he almost wished he could go back to his younger self and tell him to turn around and never look back.

Almost.

There was no way he was going to give up on the revenge he sought.

The Draegors would pay.

***

Iris felt Colin flagging, his breaths coming like the bellows of a forge. Her surroundings were more discernible as their speed slowed, to the point she could nearly make out the signs hanging above shops, lit by the moonlight and lamps like a beacon in the night.

There were very few denizens out at this time at night. The few they did pass let out little yelps of surprise or shouts of anger. Even with Iris no doubt slowing Colin down, consuming his stamina like water from a strainer—they were a blur of sound and sight.

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Eventually, Colin brought them in front of a large edifice, its domineering size dwarfing the homes to each side. Iris shakily clambered down from his back, her arms numb from the vice-like grip she’d burdened Colin’s neck with.

The residence itself was bland—lacking the usual decor she expected to find within the Heights. No flickering lamps existed to color the outside with their subtle glow. No sounds made their way through the sturdy walls, the lights in the windows oddly absent, as though no one lived in the obviously grand home. It was like something within Iris knew the second she looked away, she’d be able to forget all about the oddly out of place building.

Nevertheless, Colin strode up the simple steps and rapped on the door. She stayed farther back, not feeling too keen on standing closer than she already was.

Colin seemed ready to leave after no one answered, but he steeled himself and lifted his hand in preparation to knock again, only to be cut off by the sound of multiple clicks of metal on metal from the door.

Once the locks were undone, the door opened just a smudge, the darkness from within not giving Iris a good chance to see the figure peeking through the crack.

“Yes?” From the tone of voice, Iris presumed it was a slightly annoyed middle-aged man. She couldn’t blame them. If the beds here were anything like what she’d woken up in that morning, she would be irate with someone forcing her out of bed too.

Colin was still winding down from his double-time movement through the city. He caught his breath and ran his hand down the back of his head, smoothing out his hair, reminding her of the pleasant smell she was forced to endure, “Um…this might sound weird, but I was told to tell you we are here in the name of the Woodsman?”

The hidden figure said nothing, opening the door and revealing a well dressed man of middling age. Iris took that as a win for her successful guess. She was strangely okay with everything happening, more than happy to be out of a dreary cell. She just hoped House Night didn’t have another one waiting for her somewhere inside.

The man made no comment about Iris’ torn and bloodied tunic, and he gestured them inside. Iris was not shocked at all to find the inside matched the outside perfectly—if not for a few more accouterments here and there. She could tell there were some paintings on the walls, though much fewer than those in the castle halls. There were no statues to be seen, however, and she began to wonder why such a House would live in such a minimalistic way. She expected them to be gaudy and open about their wealth, considering they were a House and all. Varron had taught her that much, at least.

“Why is it so dark in here?” She pondered while they walked through the interior.

“It is night time.” Colin pointed out.

“Well yeah, but he’s dressed. Don’t think he’d sleep in that.” She motioned towards their host.

The man turned towards her with a raised brow, “Attentive, I see.”

“Thanks?”

Colin waved his hands as he quickened his pace to walk beside the man guiding them up a set of stairs to the second floor, “Not to interrupt, but we should have Aerowyn joining us soon. Should we wait for him?”

“No need, he will be here.” He said, dismissing Colin’s concerns.

“No, I don’t think you understand what’s at stake here, House Patriarch.” They’d reached the top of the steps, and the man looked at Colin with bewilderment, then keeled over as he tried and failed to stifle a laugh.

“Ahhh, good one, boy.” He said, patting Colin’s arm before turning down a hallway with a set of doors at the very end.

“What did I say that was funny?” Colin asked. He didn’t get a response, and he looked at Iris questioningly, “Did I say something funny?”

She shrugged and moved past him to follow the still chuckling man.

Colin caught up once they stopped in front of the doors. The man composed himself and pressed his hand to a spot on the wall, a rune pulsing into existence before fading away. Iris could hear the rustling of fabric on the other side, accompanied by approaching footsteps. With how light they were, Iris assumed it was a woman that would open the door. Her guessing streak was cut short when a thin man in sleepwear opened the door, still rubbing his eyes and yawning like he’d been disturbed from a deep slumber.

Their guide bowed slightly, “Apologies for the disturbance at such a late hour, House Patriarch. We have guests, courtesy of the Woodsman.”

Iris couldn’t help but glance at Colin out of the corner of her eye. His expression showed embarrassment as his mouth morphed into the shape of a perfectly circular ‘o’.

“Thank you, Blythe. Prepare their rooms, please.” Unlike his thin stature, his voice held a quiet but commanding undertone, like the world would bend to his will if it would please the Patriarch.

Blythe bowed once and turned away, patted Colin on the arm once more as he strode away chuckling.

The Patriarch looked both of them up and down with bleary eyes, only briefly hesitating on Iris’ ruined clothing stained with her own blood, “Aerowyn?”

“On his way, Patriarch.” Colin responded.

“Just Walter, is fine. We can talk in the morning. Your rooms are across from each other, down the hall and to the right, it’s the only two rooms down that way, you can’t miss it.”

“Patriarch, please,” Colin said as he clasped his hands pleadingly. “We have to talk about what’s going on!”

Walter fixed Colin with squinted eyes, “Not a very good listener, are you, son? Sleep now, your beds should be ready. We will discuss it in the morning over breakfast.”

Iris didn’t wait to hear more. She wasn’t going to turn down another bed. And food to top it off?

Yes fucking please.

She was already halfway down the hallway by the time Colin was beside her, “He’s not listening! They’re going to find us here!” He was more mumbling to himself than talking to her, but she had her mind set on a soft heaven awaiting her in the room, so she didn’t even respond as she sped up.

Iris turned the corner and zoned her sight on one of the two doors in the hallway. It spurned a fire within her, giving her legs the strength to break into a lumbering jog.

She burst into the room, and shut the door behind her, a bewildered Colin left behind.

The bed was the only thing she saw in her exhaustion. It was the largest thing in the minimalistic space. Spotless white sheets, folded on one corner so she could slide under their soft embrace like the sunshine to flora.

Some other orphan might have hesitated at such a tantalizing sight.

Not Iris.

She took three steps that led into an ugly leap, smashing face first into the pillows. For the first time in her life, Iris consentingly fell asleep onto an actual bed.

It was blissful, dreamless, and absolute.