It was no easy feat to find Eliza after she had disappeared on us, and both Aspen and I worried greatly all the while. It took us quite a few days to find out where she was, and around a week and a half from the time of her disappearance to recover her completely, but I ought to start from the beginning for her sake. For whatever reason, she does not remember much of what happened back then, and we do not know what became of her for those days, so I must fill in the gaps to the best of my abilities.
When I had woken up, the only thing left of her in Dragon’s Inn was an unkempt bed, with the blanket thrown over haphazardly and the scent of a quiet anxiety in the air.
“Liz?” I called out, rubbing my eyes wearily.
There was no answer.
As I looked around the room, I could not see her silhouette in the hallway outside, nor did I perceive her through the window overlooking the front of the Tavern.
A steady trickle of panic turned into a sudden burst of anxiety. I knew the silly toad had never set foot outside the manor long, and even when she did, it was always whenever she was on an outing with the other Hestions and the little bunny. She was as good as dead here in a place like this.
My father’s warning echoed in my head as I began to search for her, causing me to shiver with trepidation. The duke Asphodel had told me to be weary through these parts; Cheverton was known for being a darker part of the empire, yet I paid no heed to that warning. Perhaps I was catching onto Eliza’s foolishness.
Of course, as I was moving around in my panic, I felt the pain of the previous few days weigh down on my limbs. I had several bruises along the base of my spine and legs, with a few cuts and scratches on my hand, but Eliza’s disappearance was the only thing that kept me from feeling those aches, and I pushed my body in retaliation.
I vividly remember shoving Aspen awake, kicking him until he jolted awake, nearly collapsing against the bed frame in shock. A loud thud was heard in our room, but no one came upstairs to check the ruckus.
“Wake up, you overgrown crow! Where is she?!”
His eyes were bleary, but his voice betrayed none of his own exhaustion.
“What do you mean, Kit? Where is who?”
Panic crept into my voice, growing loud in my ears, “Where is Eliza?? She’s not here!”
At this, the old crow was fully awake. No wonder, too, for it seemed he kept a closer eye on her than he did me - not that I mind it all that much. The toad did need quite a bit of observation every so often.
Hurriedly, we packed our things, splitting Liz’ pack between the two of us as we rushed down the stairs. The older man’s eyes seemed hooded to me, lost in a veil of memories, but I do not believe I noticed it much at the time; I simply did not care for him as much as I did for my best friend.
By that point, I’m sure I lost all my clumsiness and insecurities, for the stairs proved far too small a challenge for me and I flew down them like one of Ahavet’s ravens, glorious in its terrible anger as it soared over the treacherous battlefields from all those legends of old.
There was little time to waste, but we checked every corner of the Inn and Tavern for any sight of her. It was mostly empty at that point, save for two or three patrons who sat idly at a lone table in the corner and the bartender wiping a mug with a dishcloth. It was quiet there, but still sunny enough for the town to start a quiet awakening and just before the morning bustle.
As the old man inquired hurriedly at the counter, I searched outside with clipped steps, walking to and fro in front of the entrance.
Perhaps she had made her way to the market?
Then again, that would not be possible; the market opens at dawn and not a moment sooner, and she would have been back if that were the case. Moreover, she would’ve left a note as well.
I scratched my head, pulling at my hair in frustration.
Where is this stupid toad and why didn’t she say anything?
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Aspen quickly ran up behind me as well, dodging another person at the last moment until we fell into a fast-paced trot together.
“The old bartender said she left this morning rather slowly.”
“Did she, now?”
“Apparently, my Kit. He also noted that she was headed towards the apothecary; she left a message telling us she had gone for medicine and that, all things considered, I would never have let her gone otherwise.” The crow got real quiet at that, “It might’ve been for your bruises, my dear. She seemed quite upset at your tone last night.”
My steps faltered, nervous. I cleared my throat.
“Do you… really think so? Did she hurt because of me?”
He shrugged, his dark hair bristling.
“You touched quite a nerve of hers, love. Her mother seemed to be a topic she didn’t want to talk much about.”
“Skarabeck above, you’re right.” At that, I cringed slightly, “I shouldn’t have said such a thing. Heavens above, I’m such a fool!”
“Quite right, seeing as we’re currently walking away from the apothecary. Let’s go this way, shall we?”
The crow pulled at my arm, tugging it in the opposite direction, until we stood in front of a rather overgrown little building across from the tavern, slightly away from the market down the street.
As the sun shone upon it, I could smell a concoction of herbs inside, leaving my head spinning at the strangeness of the aroma leaking outside.
“Wear this, love; you’ll need it.”
Aspen handed me a damp cloth from his hood, smelling faintly of rainwater as he tied a similar cloth to his face as well. When we entered, it was clear something had been dragged away to the back of the shop; there was a light sprinkling of dust that trailed behind the counter, yet it seemed there was no sign of Eliza, nor even a person inside the shop. I quietly observed the long shelves full of jars of tinctures, balms, salves and dried herbs.
“Why’s the door open when no one’s inside?”
“That certainly is a good question, my dear. Why indeed…” Aspen muttered, although I did not seek any answer from him.
He touched the trail of dust, peering at a few leaves that had been carelessly tossed aside. Then, at the counter, he pulled at the moneybox, revealing an imprinted emblem on the side.
“Here we are. Another little bug for us to deal with.” His voice grew cold. I could see it on his face, though his body did not seem all that concerned, with only a clenched jaw under his hooded eyes betraying his anger; whatever that mark was, it meant nothing good. It certainly wasn’t for our wayward friend.
Cautiously, I asked, “What say you, crow?”
“I say, my dear Kit, that it seems a few friends of mine have decided to pay our little toad a visit.”
His eyes grew dangerously cold as he walked back to the entrance, pulling the door shut and turning the sign back to ‘CLOSED’.
A tense silence permeated the room, growing colder and colder until I shivered involuntarily. The ground itself seemed to stiffen, with the sun leaving feverish marks upon the calloused beams in the apothecary. It was as if he had sucked the life out of the very air itself, and left nothing behind save for transient breaths huffing into nothingness.
The air grew heavier with that dizzying aroma, until we opened a few windows to let the wind inside, but all the while, I did not dare to utter a word.
Aspen touched the emblem again, tracing the edges of the butterfly’s wing before finding a small switch at the base of the body. He flicked it, and a small click broke through the silence.
“Follow me, Kit. Whatever you do, don’t ask questions, don’t say a word, and don’t ever ask me about this afterwards.”
Of course, if it were any other point in time, I would be content to disobey and chatter to my heart’s content. This, however, was not one of those times.
I only nodded, letting the old crow lead the way.
As we searched the rest of the shop, we found a few items of varying concern: some poisons hidden under the counter, various knives and blades unassociated with botany, and at one point, a battleaxe under the floorboards.
What a battleaxe had to do with plants, I will never know, but the old crow did not seem to care, nor did he even bat an eye at them.
Eventually, we made our way to the backroom behind the counter, following the dust trail and pushing aside the trailing vines to access the main area where the pharmacist stored all of the more volatile medicines.
It was a dark room, like the guest room on the way to the Duke’s study, but this type was malevolent. It made my skin crawl, and I had never felt anything like outside of the prisons in Devienne.
The dust trail led under the carpet, where a few shelves stood, and dried herbs hung from extra beams attached to each row. As we pushed them aside, lifting up the corner of the bear fur, we both grew still at the sight.
What I saw made the comfort of silence bitter, and every word on my tongue rotted away with it, as droplets of dried blood led down to a trapdoor, where a set of dark stairs gaped into the deep.
Aspen began to follow the path, clenching his jaw once more as his glare settled in.
“Follow me.” He marched into the blackness alone, seeming more solitary than I’d ever seen him.