Ava stood at the base of a tree in Wizard’s Wood and marvelled at the look and feel of it. There were just so many greens and browns and yellows! She placed her hand on the rough bark and felt warmth permeate into her palm. It was such a stark contrast to the cold range of white, black and grey of the sparse flora in Spectermere.
Minervin had shown her his memories of the various lands he had travelled to, but his conjurations seemed so dull, lonely, and muted in comparison. As if they were seen through a veil of sadness. They certainly did not do this place justice.
She turned to a couple of small brown birds chirping noisily at each other in the tree behind her, free of the predatory fear that the fauna in Draugr Forest had to survive at any given moment. Everything in the Casimir Empire felt so – boisterously bright and alive.
She backed away from the tree and strolled deeper into the forest. It would not do to dwell overlong, as much as she wanted to. Her greedy eyes drank it all in, the trees, the flowers, the grass, the buildings, and every stall in the market she needed to slink through to escape. It will be a regret she will need to live with, thanks to that accursed prince.
It was enough that I must make do without my weapons, but now he is robbing me of my experiences as well. She would have tried stealing her weapons back before escaping but feared that she was on thin ice with him already. When the Spirits' business with her is resolved she will go back to collect them and preserve Malgorn’s memory properly one way or another. But right now, Ava did not want to test the boundaries of his royal humour and sabotage her mission. Throwing that bottle at him was a mistake. Minervin would have been appalled at my ‘uncouth behaviour’ as Ser Morley put it. A twinge nicked at her heart at her thoughts of Minervin. She missed him so much. This would not have seemed such an impossible task if he had been at her side.
She thought she could find some assistance from that prince since he genuinely seemed to want to help her. But the Sea Serpent was right, no matter how honourable the prince in white was, there was cold calculation in his eyes that she would be foolish to ignore. Her task was a struggle enough, getting dragged into his political intrigues in a land not her own would only end badly for her. This was something she and Beast needed to do alone.
She called to the sabre cat and bent down to examine the intricate orange colours of the flowers at her feet, their delicately sweet fragrance wafted to her nose, and she sniffed it in. Hours had passed since Beast fled the ship and he must have scouted out something of note. A place to start.
Beast bounded through the forest brush and skid to a stop before her, touching his nose to hers in recognition. Ava gave him a comforting pat on the head. He seemed to be a little manic, as excited and overwhelmed by the atmosphere here as she was.
“Did you find anything?” she asked.
“There is an outpost a ways away,” he said as his eyes darted to everything around them.
“Lead me to it then, Beast. I will follow.”
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Beast’s outpost was indeed a small town. Snake Town if the signage were to be believed. Ava squatted with Beast behind an outcrop of bushes, watching the comings and goings of the townsfolk. On the surface, it seemed nondescript and relatively quiet. A few women walked around carrying baskets of goods, others shuttered their windows, calling to kids and waving goodbye to neighbours. A tight-knit community settling down for the night.
Situated this close to the human trading post, market and Trade Council Manor, Ava gathered the people who inhabited this town were either craftsmen or families of the workers there. Possibly a town for visitors who could not afford to stay at the trading post but had business there.
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“Beast, I might be a while. If I am not out by sunup or anything untoward happens go find that prince. Do not risk yourself, you are a rare find here,” she whispered.
“Yes, mother.” He replied and lopped deeper into the forest. Ava knew he was itching to hunt once again. It would keep him busy and hopefully out of trouble until she finishes her business in town.
Ava dithered for a moment, attempting to garner how the village here would react to her presence. Minervin already put the fear of The Deep into the Outpost’s denizens long before she was old enough to realize how truly reviled hybrids were. The prince and his crew did treat her decently enough, even that sour-faced Knight-Commander. And she did manage to slip through the market at the Manor without raising too many eyebrows. Perhaps blending in is possible. She took a bracing breath and left the cover of the brush. It cannot be helped. I must do what is needed.
Ava got a few wary stares as she strode through the village but fortunately, there was no panic or alarm. The hooded wine-coloured cloak the prince had given her was doing a well enough job of covering up her ears and forehead. It was soft, thin, and looked expensive. But its luxury did not detract from its comfort and function. She loved it, but she was not about to tell the prince that, even though he did look worried about her well-being when he gave it to her.
She almost felt bad pretending to be unwell after that. The truth was that she had already begun feeling better by the time Oswin came to fuss over her. The overwhelming heat that accompanied the Fire Spirit’s rumbling voice slowly ebbed away after a time. But it granted her an opportunity to create a crack in the prince and his men’s unwavering vigilance over her. Enough to slip away and find Minervin’s cabin.
Ava forgot about her guardian’s last words in her frenzied and fevered escape from Spectermere, but the Spirits did not, and they commanded that she go there. Regardless of what they hoped to find there, this seemed to be the best starting point for the daunting task they set upon her shoulders. Minervin would have something useful tucked away, she was certain of it.
“What d’ya want?” The question came from a guard atop a horse. He looked down on her with a raised eyebrow and seemed to have the same bearing as Knight-Captain Shael but lacked the decoration befitting a Knight. She assumed that he might be a high-ranking Guard or Guard-Captain. It would be best to tread carefully.
“I am looking for the local inn,” Ava replied, then quickly pursed her lips. The guard’s eyes widened in shock before squinting with suspicion. He leaned on the saddle of his horse in a clear attempt to peer through the shadows of her hood.
“Aye? And what business d’yer have at the inn?”
She stifled the urge to snap at the man. What business does anyone have at a damnable inn? Biting her tongue, she answered stiffly, “I need provisions and have the coin to pay for it.”
The guard stared at her silently for a moment, his eyes still filled with suspicion and turned on his horse to trot up the path ahead. “Well, keep up. I’ll escort you. I’ll be warning you not to do anything funny, I ain’t in a humourous mood,” he warned back at her.
Ava fell into pace with the horse, watching anything with an avid interest in a clumsy attempt to hide much of her face from the guard’s overt and curious gaze.
“You been in Landon Province long?” he queried eventually.
“Only just arrived and I am just passing by,” she answered with as much nonchalance as she could muster. She could already tell this interrogation was going to be an aggravating trial.
“Passing by to where?”
“Right now, to a place I could rest for the night.”
“Aye? And where d’yer arrive from?” the guard asked, catching on to her non-answers. Ava was never good at dancing around the truth, the prince said it plain in the ship’s brig. I am a terrible liar.
“From across the ocean. Is there a purpose to this line of questioning? I just need to get what I came for. I am not here to cause trouble.” She turned to face him, unable to contain her frustration and impatience any longer.
“Bah, no need to get fussy now, little lady. Snake Town’s a humble town with good folk, but only ne’er-do-wells ask after Snake Tongue Inn. It’s me job to question strangers and determine their business there.
“Well, there you go, Snake Tongue Inn.” The guard motioned to the building before them.
Dim candlelight shone through the windows and a loud cacophony of music and singing could be heard from inside, broken occasionally by fits of shouting and raucous laughter.
“I should warn you though, Hestrin likely won’t sell you nothing and sure won’t put you up for the night. You seem a good sort, but you look peculiar.”