If Coral had to guess where she would have found herself six months ago, in her wildest dreams she would never have thought to be standing in the same room of a top tier Adventurer. Or, and this wasn’t by far the strangest of scenarios that had taken place this last week, being dressed by said Adventurer.
Perhaps the word ‘dressed’ was an overstatement. Crowcaller was flinging clothing at her, while Coral tried to hide unsuccessfully behind a dressing screen. Mercifully, Crowcaller had supplied the screen to her. Dressing in Crowcaller’s parlour was particularly strange, Coral was unaccustomed to dressing anywhere other than a bedroom or private chamber. Travelling to Direwood had been a challenge, which had reinforced just how much she valued her privacy. Coral was technically in Crowcaller’s private suite in the Guild, though Crowcaller had explicitly denied her access to her bedroom.
Coral had the distinct impression that Crowcaller was hiding something in her room. It was probably something highly embarrassing the way that Crowcaller had acted when Coral first asked to enter.
Instead, Crowcaller had, most unusually, sidled her way inside her bedroom and returned a moment later with the screen. All while ensuring Coral did not get a glimpse behind her bedroom door.
It made her incredibly curious.
“This looks more your size,” Crowcaller said, unceremoniously throwing a pair of trousers over the top of the wooden screen. There was a resultant slap to Coral’s head at the unexpected clothing. Coral was still pulling on the top she had been given. It was made of much sturdier material than her blouse, and much courser against her skin. It was also an odd shade of grey, with mottled splotches like something had spilled and soaked into the fabric.
Coral didn’t mind the stain. Who bothered with beauty standards and respectability when one offered themselves up as a tasty morsel?
Well, baiting the non-human type of monsters. Vampires were unnaturally beautiful, as terrifying as they were. Even werewolves were particularly good looking. They would consider the desirability of a person shaped lure.
Coral pulled the trousers on, then held them up as they slipped down over her hips. “I could use a belt,” she said, inspecting the two-inch gap in the waist band. She’d be hiking up these the entire time she wore them.
Crowcaller stuck her head around the screen, heedless of the shock that came over Coral.
“You’re the size of a child,” Crowcaller said with a frustrated click of her tongue. “You need to put some more meat on those bones. You won’t survive winter without fattening yourself up a little. You’re practically wasting away before me.”
“I’m trying,” Coral told her truthfully. Eirek Farley had purposely kept her lean. A trim figure attracted the sort of people that Eirek wanted around. Who were usually overly plump themselves, the fiends.
Coral was determined to indulge in cheese, wine and chocolate cake as much as her heart desired. It was surreal, knowing that Coral could choose what she wanted to eat or do now.
Though, offering herself up as bait was something that never played out in her imagination. Coral hadn’t thought she would want this. Or that it would be a decision she would have to make.
There was always a time for firsts, and Coral would approach her role as bait with as much eagerness as she could. At least, eagerness to return home safely. She had got herself this far already, she wouldn’t back down from a challenge.
Besides, she was going to be protected by Adventurer’s. One of whom was named, and that only came about if they had accomplished many great feats, or in some cases, paid for.
Silas didn’t come across as pompous though. He didn’t seem like the type to pay for a title. Which was a relief. Those types of Adventurers were all spectacle and no results. Coral also couldn’t see Crowcaller, one of the kingdom’s most celebrated Adventurers, ever leading a guild with sub-par Adventurer’s.
Now that she thought about it, Coral was practically giddy with the thought. It was like being granted a moment from a protagonist’s life in a romance novel. Except, Coral didn’t have that secret sordid affair with any of the Adventurers. She only had an unwanted engagement from a handle-bar moustached, licentious, odorous flea.
Silas did pique her interest. He was very handsome. Though, very handsy. Why did he have to manhandle her all the time?
Still, she would rather Silas be there when she took to the roads tonight to get to the cave. The roads were still dangerous, ghoul or no. There were still many monsters out there. The giant wolves for instance.
Silas could manhandle her all he wanted if it meant he kept her safe.
Another pair of trousers slapped Coral in the head. She flinched and scrunched her face, which was a mistake. Her black eyes still needed Doctor Thornheart’s salve.
Quickly pulling on the new trousers, which were a much better fit, Coral stepped out from behind the screen before Crowcaller could impede on her privacy before she assumed Coral was done.
Coral had been given the Adventurer Guild’s apprentice uniform trousers. It was much thicker fabric than she was used to, somehow the material feeling both durable yet flexible. Under normal circumstances, parading around in a guild’s uniform was a punishable offence by the guild. There were strict guidelines to follow when taking on the role of an Adventurer.
In this instance, as she would be escorted by the Master of the guild, Coral felt less threatened by this. Besides, Coral didn’t want to wait until morning for the shops to open in order to buy an outfit suitable for luring monsters and galivanting through caves.
Look at her, she was practically an explorer now.
It also let her experience wearing trousers without having to buy or make a pair for herself. Coral found that she very much did like wearing trousers, though it felt odd to be out of a skirt.
Crowcaller rubbed at her cheek as she inspected Coral, a frown pulling down one corner of her mouth. “The shirt is a blend of cotton and spun werewolf fur. It will keep from falling apart if something tries to slice at you. And you’ll stay warm.”
“Oh?” Coral said, looking anew at stained sleeves. That would be useful in her everyday cleaning of the manor. She had already acquired many scratches and bruises from the general clean up, and it was always so chilly, in thanks to the ghosts.
“Don’t go putting yourself in harms way anymore than necessary. It won’t stop a ghoul from slicing you open,” Crowcaller said.
That was unsettling. Coral had purposely kept those types of thoughts from playing out in her mind. Seeing the Adventurers in action now wasn’t as appealing. It was a hard slap of reality.
Was she going to end up permanently disfigured after this? Will she lose an arm? Caspian had been thoroughly torn up after his encounter, and Coral did not want to end up like that. She may not have Pearl’s classic beauty and soft roundness, but that didn’t mean Coral didn’t appreciate her own clear skin or distinct features.
Losing an arm wouldn’t detract from her own attractiveness, but she wanted to keep all her limbs just the same.
Curse financial responsibility. And curse that wretched ghoul too.
Coral’s face must have given away her thoughts, as Crowcaller said, “You need to be able to move as quick as possible. We don’t want you weighed down. Besides, the ghoul will need to get past Silas first, and he’d be damned if he was letting anything get to you. And you will be wearing this.”
Crowcaller passed her a sleeveless black doublet, made of a thick, sturdy material which had a pattern sewn in reminiscent of dragon skin. Coral reached out for it and stared. It was much heavier than she was expecting, her arms dropping as the weight was relinquished to her.
“What is it?” she asked, examining the embellished crow depicted in mid-flight on the front. The wings spanned from shoulder to shoulder, it’s beak open wide in a silent call. There were several belt straps along the side of the doublet, which Coral assumed was how she was supposed to fasten it to herself.
“It’s a Jack of plate. It’s the only thing I have that will fit you, unless I go down to the barracks. Which I won’t, it’s too cold out there.” Crowcaller said.
At Coral’s blank look, she said further, “It’s armour. Small iron plates are sewn between the layers. It’s light enough that even you can wear it. The weight is balanced so you’ll hardly notice it.”
She stepped forward and helped Coral into the jack of plate. “This was a gift when I slew a manticore causing quite some trouble a few years back.” Crowcaller stilled, her hands held aloft as she stared at Coral. “Now that I think about it, that was over fifteen years ago. I’m getting so old.”
“If it’s any consolation, I thought you were around my age when I first saw you,” Coral said.
“Wasn’t the name enough to tell you who I am?” Crowcaller scoffed.
“Truthfully, I didn’t recognise you at first,” Coral said, trying to choose her words carefully. Some Adventurer’s, and nobles at that, would have been highly offended to hear that they were unrecognisable.
“What made me realise who you were, was your polearm, Black Talon.”
Crowcaller snorted. “Not a fan then I take it. It’s actually nice, hearing how I’m not instantly recognizable. Black Talon on the other hand-.”
Even though Coral knew Crowcaller’s words were more of a statement than anything, she felt like she had to answer. Crowcaller had been nothing but warm and kind to her. Which was quite different in her other interactions, limited as they were, with adventurers.
“I’m much more suited for eating cake and drinking wine rather than facing down monsters. I have enormous respect for those who do. Your services are highly appreciated. My life prior to Direwood was complicated, and I never really had much time for heroics.”
Coral had been much too busy trying to save herself and Pearl from their father to pay attention to monster slaying hero’s. That didn’t mean Coral was completely ignorant of the gossip that happened around the parties she attended. It was a requirement to be up to date with all the current politics and societal events. Adventurers were a constant topic to be discussed.
Somehow, many of the Adventurer’s who earned themselves a title rarely kept a place in the back of Coral’s memory. But she did recall weapons. Which is why she knew about Black Talon. She had often imagined herself wielding famous weapons, which always inadvertently slaughtered her father one way or another.
Titled Adventurer’s like Crowcaller who became famous through their triumphs, often had their weapons and armour become a highly sought after commodity. Selling the jack of plate alone would allow Coral to be able to live very comfortably for many years. Not that Coral would be the type to steal, let alone be able to hide for too long before Crowcaller came hunting her down.
Was it a mark that Crowcaller liked Coral, or at the very least, trusted her?
“Are you sure you want to put this on me?” Coral asked, her voice a whirlwind of uncertainty.
Crowcaller adjusted the fastenings so that it fit more comfortably. “I’m not walking down to the barracks now. It’s too cold. Let an old woman enjoy the warmth. Besides, you’re the one who is facing down a monster. Not me.”
Coral cringed and thought desperately of her purse. Debt free and financially independent.
“You’re hardly old. What are you, thirty-five?” Coral said, drudging up half remembered dates. Some Adventurer’s birthdays were celebrated by more than their families and friends. The most popular often held large events or parties.
“Old enough for the cold to affect my sore bones,” Crowcaller croaked in a put upon voice and tugging hard at the fastenings. Coral had to put her arms out to balance at the jostling.
“Now, you’re going to have to wear your own shoes. Appropriate footwear is important, but if I give you boots that are too big, you’ll be falling over all over the place,” Crowcaller said, matter-of-factly.
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Coral couldn’t complain about that. At least her boots were somewhat appropriate to be traversing outside. Crowcaller passed her a Direwood Adventurer’s cloak, the material thick and warm beneath her touch. Coral draped it over her arm, not wanting to overheat in the already toasty room. She did however re-pin the sigil to the high collar of her shirt. It was there, at her throat, or pin it to her outer sleeve. The jack of plate did a wonderful job of covering her torso. She liked it more than she was expecting.
Coral caught a glimpse of herself in the mirrored section of the screen. She hardly recognised herself. She looked like she was ready for an adventure – or had just been on one thanks to her blackened eyes and wild hair.
Her insides, squirming in anxious anticipation certainly didn’t match her outer façade. Calm confidence was shown in the way she held her pointed chin, her cheeks still hollowed even now after weeks of constant chocolate cake indulgence. Perhaps she should add to those moments a second helping. Or more wine and cheese. It had been pleasant lounging in front of the fire helping herself to an array of cheeses that complimented wine.
Coral was all angles, and her almond shaped eyes didn’t soften the sharpness to her gaze, though she was markedly blessed with long eyelashes. Her hair had been let loose and had fallen around her in messy waves. Coral took her time to braid it back, tying the ends off so that it sat at the centre of her back. She would pin it up later, so that the braid couldn’t be caught by anyone or anything trying to kill her.
On her second review of her appearance, Coral had to admit that she looked great in trousers. She really should get herself a pair. Her flaxen hair didn’t look as dull as it had merely a few days ago, there was a slight shine to it, though that could have been an effect of the magelight. Her hazel eyes even looked a little brighter.
It was most definitely the effect of magelight. What else could make two, bruised and puffed-up eyes look good?
There was a tap at the door, which Crowcaller promptly opened. Pearl stood with a tray in her hands, a sheepish look on her face. “Elwin said we could help ourselves to the guilds kitchens, as the Dog House is closed for the night,” Pearl explained.
“I suppose I can allow that, though I can’t imagine you found much. Our cook is currently away. I have several more weeks before he comes back for the Night of the Undead before I can enjoy a properly made meal,” Crowcaller said wistfully. “The Dog’s House has good food, but it’s nothing compared to my cook. I really am tired of gruel and boiled eggs.”
“That’s all that I pretty much have. I have some ham too,” Pearl said, setting the tray down on the small table between two chairs.
Coral sat and helped herself to one of the bowls. She would eat anything right now as long as it gave her enough energy to out manoeuvre a ghoul. Crowcaller and Pearl sat as well. Pearl sipped daintily from her spoon, while Crowcaller shovelled her own gruel as though she was trying to avoid the taste by not letting the food touch her tongue.
It wasn’t horrible. Just bland, and a touch too eggy.
Pearl, in her usual polite etiquette, took her time to look around the room as she ate. Coral did too, no longer having to hide her person now that she wasn’t dressing.
The room was as lavish as the rest of the Adventurers Guild, with thickly woven rugs at their feet, and curtains hanging from ceiling to floor in rich blue velvet. Tapestries were hung on the walls, depicting heroic acts and monsters being slaughtered. There was a pleasant, spiced aroma to the air that Coral couldn’t put a name to.
“Is that your personal attire?” Pearl asked, looking at Crowcaller and indicating at Coral.
“It is. I don’t wear it anymore, so I am happy to lend it to Coral for now.” Crowcaller’s violet eyes snapped over to Coral, squinting a little.
“It might be best if you keep it until after the Night of the Undead. I heard you were thinking of staying in your manor that night. I don’t recommend it.”
“We are?” Pearl said, her eyes round and questioning as she looked at Coral.
“I’m not happy about the cemetery having a direct link to the manor. I’ll certainly try to see having the tunnel filled up so I won’t have the dead rampaging through our home.” Coral said.
“Can’t we just stay with everyone else in the guild or the Dog House?” Pearl asked.
“The Dog House and the Adventurers Guild will be right in the middle of the undead hoard. That seems like the most dangerous place to be if you ask me,” Coral said, spooning another helping of her supper into her mouth.
“Not at all,” Crowcaller said, dropping her finished bowl on to the table. “Most of the Adventurers will be at the centre of town. We’ve almost never had a break in.”
“Almost never?” Coral reiterated.
“Well, there was one time, but we were hardly expecting five rock trolls to turn up that year. We have them well accounted for now, and their skeletons have been fixated well away from town. They won’t pose such a problem when they take their time to amble into town, and we will have ample volunteers keeping such trouble down.”
“Rock trolls,” Pearl gasped, her face paling. “Maybe staying in town won’t be such a good idea,” Pearl said.
“Of course it’s a good idea. You will be able to see all the action from here. Direwood is well protected, and any damages caused to buildings will be repaired in the wake of any destructive blow.”
“Do many houses need repairs after the Night of the Undead?” Coral asked.
“Sometimes,” Crowcaller said hesitantly. “That’s part of the reason for why I want a wall built to protect the city. I’m faced with much opposition. Many think it’s just caging us all in like chickens.”
There was another knock on the door. “Enter,” Crowcaller yelled out, startling both Coral and Pearl with how loud she was.
The door swung open, emitting Elwin and Silas.
“All ready then?” Crowcaller asked.
Silas nodded once in silence. Coral was thankful that he had cleaned himself off, though he still wore the same bloodied clothes as before. Elwin stood beside him, buzzing with anticipation. His hands weren’t able to keep still, first fiddling with the hilt of his sword to adjusting the fit of his cape over his shoulders.
Coral placed her empty bowl back on the tray. Pearl reached out and held Coral by the wrist, her eyebrows pinched with worry.
“Coral, you don’t have to do this. I can get a job and pay for the debt myself,” Pearl said quietly.
“I know you can,” Coral said gently, placing her free hand over the top of Pearl’s. “But this will be quicker.”
“But you could get hurt. You could be killed,” Pearl said quietly, her voice barely a whisper. “You need to stop protecting me like this.”
Coral pulled her hands free and wrapped Pearl in a tight embrace. “I’m doing this for myself,” she told her sister. “Debt doesn’t suit me. I don’t want to spend one more minute of my life having to deal with that –“ Coral shut her mouth, on the verge of swearing quite fluently to describe their father.
“We deserve better. This is the quickest solution. I trust Silas to keep me safe.”
“I wouldn’t have condoned this plan if I didn’t trust Silas to play his role.” Crowcaller said, patting Pearl on the shoulder in what she clearly thought was a comforting gesture. It merely jostled both Coral and Pearl. Crowcaller was strong.
She released her sister, then followed a silent Silas through the guild’s corridors and then outside, ensuring to wrap her cloak about her shoulders. She wanted to be snug and warm before they began their trip. Pearl and Crowcaller walked either side of her, with Elwin striding along importantly behind them.
The waiting carriage was, in Coral’s dismay, lacking any actual cabin. It was little more than a wooden platform, with the large cage designed for a small dragon strapped to the back, and a raised seat at the front for the driver.
A large dappled grey Clydesdale, another whole foot taller than Coral’s head, was harnessed to the carriage. It too had it’s harness enhanced by black crystals sewn into the supple leather. It stood patiently as Silas walked up to it, patting its neck.
“Let me help you,” Elwin said, hurrying to the carriage’s side. He held his hand out to Coral.
Why couldn’t she stay in the back of the carriage, inside of the cage? That looked like a lot safer place to be rather than up on the drivers seat where she would be exposed to anything with sharp claws. Or teeth. Did the cage hold up against magic?
Coral gave the cage a longing look before taking Elwin’s hand and stepped up and sat herself on the wooden seat.
This was going to be a long night. There wasn’t even a padded cushion. Just her, in her trousers and armour, and a wooden seat. Coral tried not to cringe and tugged her coat more snugly around herself.
Elwin jumped up beside her, grinning from ear to ear. He looked too pleased by this excursion.
Silas finished checking over the horse, then pulled himself up on the other side of Coral. He was so large that she had to shuffle over slightly, so that she was thoroughly wedged between the two men. At least both Silas and Elwin were very warm. She could feel the heat radiating off of them, right into her sides where their arms brushed against her.
“Have fun!” Crowcaller called out.
Coral seriously wondered at the sanity of Direwood’s Adventurers. This trip was not going to be fun. She liked staying whole and unharmed.
If she just thought about her purse, then hopefully her task of looking as tempting and delicious as possibly to a hungry ghoul would be over quickly.
“Stay safe, and be careful,” Pearl said, gripping her hands tightly in front of her. “And don’t go after the ghoul again like last time.”
Silas looked down at Coral, which she fully refused to acknowledge any expression he may have on hearing that.
“I’ll be careful,” Coral said. It was highly unlikely that she would chase after the ghoul again. Silas and his team were capable of taking care of themselves. It was herself that she was concerned about.
“I love you,” Pearl said fiercely. “So don’t go getting yourself killed. I can’t look after the manor by myself.”
Coral smiled back at her sister, who was fretting before she had even left town. “I love you too Pearl, don’t worry. I’ll be back soon.”
Silas clicked his tongue at the Clydesdale, where it picked it’s head up and moved forward, its large hooves clacking on the cobblestone street.
Coral waved to her sister. Pearl waved back and waited until they had crossed the bridge before turning on Crowcaller’s insistence to return inside. Coral faced forward, and watched as the houses drew past. A thicker crowd of people now walked the streets, all coming from the same direction, the cemetery still alight with the blazing pyre. Coral felt against her forearm resting along her leg the small bulge in her pocket. It was the black stone she had taken from the foot of the Soul Harvester statue. She took this as a good sign, whether or not it kept her from bad luck. At least spirits were one less thing she would have to worry about.
No one spoke as they trundled down the road, though they did draw the attention of many, most with their eyes drawn to Coral wedged between Elwin and Silas. She shuffled a little under their gaze, which had the unintended result of also drawing Silas’s attention, his eyes flicking to the side and looking beneath his lashes as she shifted.
She stopped moving as she noticed this and reverted to her calm outward demeaner. She could save her squirming for later. Like tomorrow night, when she would hopefully be returned to her manor, warm in the Winter Salon, and nicely drunk to forget any further encounter with the ghoul.
Perhaps she’d extend her celebratory drink to Silas and his team as well.
The horse plodded on, following the road that Coral had followed when she had first arrived at Direwood. Coral had expected Elwin or Silas to light a lantern after leaving the streets of Direwood village, no longer having streetlamps to light their way. Instead, neither of them reached for one. The trees grew denser as they left the village behind, blocking out the moonlight that had revealed the road ahead, only breaking through in snatches of clear sky between twigs and leaves. The trees closed in on all sides, muffling sounds of crickets or any usual nightlife. Each tree trunk grew larger than the last. Somehow, it wasn’t as cold in the forest as she expected, the leaves dampening the sound of the creak of the wheels of their carriage. Perhaps the chill in the air was counteracted by the warm clothing she wore, or the two who sat beside her.
“Shouldn’t you light the lantern?” Coral asked, her voice sounding too loud in the darkness.
“We don’t want to attract any attention,” Silas said, his voice a low velvety rumble that eased the tension from Coral’s shoulders. “I can see fine in the dark. Don’t worry.”
Coral had to trust his words, as she could barely see a thing. She kept her eyes open regardless, hoping to take in any movement. They kept, annoyingly, straying back to the cut of Silas’s jawline. He had an impressively sharp jawline, now shadowed by a beard that had yet to be trimmed after his several day escapade.
His silver eyes, bright and alluring, searched the road before them. They flashed as moonlight caught his eyes, just like an animal. It was unnerving to see. Was that the reason he could see in the dark?
“What?” Silas asked.
“Nothing,” Coral said, tearing her eyes away from his slightly too long nose.
“Why do you keep looking at me?” he asked.
Why did she keep looking at him? Yes, Silas was very handsome, and he had that wavy dark hair that she liked very much, framing his face in a way that was an effortless mess that looked good. Somehow, Silas still remained dignified and calm, even while pressed up against her side.
Wasn’t he flustered by their proximity at all?
“I can’t see much of anything else.” Coral offered up. At least that part was true, anything else and she would probably have to lie through her teeth before she admitted that she was admiring the man-handling brute.
She was entitled to admire him. She wasn’t blind. Well, in this instance she was night-blind. Which was beside the point.
“I’m surprised you can open your eyes at all,” Elwin said. “They look awful.”
“Yes, thank you Elwin,” Coral said trying very hard not to be annoyed.
Silas shifted, leaning more towards Coral so that his shoulder and body pressed heavily into her. “Here, I almost forgot,” he said, speaking somewhere from above her head.
He sat straight, then held his hand out before her. Coral lifted her hand, her fingers brushing against the roughness of Silas’s fingers before he dropped a round jar into her hands.
Perplexed, Coral brought the jar up to her face and squinted, trying to see if anything was written on the outside. With no moonlight filtering through the canopy, Coral could only just make out the shape. She ran her fingertips over the smooth surface and felt the lid come away, revealing a pleasant, herbal scent.
“What is it?” Coral asked, sniffing carefully at the substance.
“A salve for your eyes,” Silas said.
“Is that why you cornered Orvil Norwood? He looked furious when you made him open his shop,” Elwin said, sounding like he had just received the answer to a puzzle.
Silas didn’t answer. He merely went back to holding the reins and searching the area around them.
“Thank you,” Coral said, genuinely surprised. She hadn’t expected this level of thoughtfulness from the man. She dipped a finger into the salve, and carefully dabbed it over her eyes. The salve was thick and gelatinous, and even a small amount made it feel like her eyelashes wanted to stick together.
She hoped the salve wasn’t coloured. The delicate skin around her eyes was already a mottled purple, and she didn’t need to add to that.
The horse raised its head high, startling from something that Coral could not hear nor see. Now was probably a bad time to have her eyelids half glued shut with goop. Beside her, Elwin tensed.
“What is it?” Coral whispered, clutching the salve hard in between her hands.
“Stay quiet,” Silas said, his own voice gentle in its command.
Coral shut her mouth, listening hard. It was her role to follow any instruction Silas gave to her, and she would make sure she followed it well. She listened hard.
There was a slight rustle of leaves. The creak of wood from the carriage trundling along the dirt road, even the muffled hoofbeats sounded loud as she tried to search out what had startled the horse.
Then she heard it. A second beat to their own horses’ steps, though they were riding fast. Silas breathed deeply from beside her, then his shoulders relaxed. “It’s Caspian,” Silas said.
A moment later, Coral could clearly hear the hoofbeats of a cantering horse. Then he was beside them, melting out of the darkened forest as though he had been part of it. He rode astride one of his pearlescent horses, it’s coat somehow still gleaming in the darkness.
“You’re a beacon. Couldn’t you have chosen something a little less flashy?” Silas said, grumbling.
“Why are you here?” Coral asked, leaning forward so that she could look around Silas’s mass to try to look at him.
“He’s bait as well,” Silas said, flicking the reins so the horse picked up its pace.