Chapter 8 Pigs and Peep Shows
Tine and Autumnus had been walking for some time now. Tired and hungry, Tine sat down on the steps of an alabaster building. It was a quiet road, and most of the residences were shuttered. It's getting closer to evening now. No one is in sight. That seems odd for a city of this size, she thought.
Autumnus walked in circles nearby as he squinted closely at the piece of crumpled, stained paper that was their map.
“Hey, Autumnus,” Tine waved from where she sat. “Over here. Sit down a minute.” Her tail waved, too.
He looked defeated and sat down with a thunk beside her. His long legs made his knees come up nearly to his chin, which made him look a little childlike as he rested next to her.
Autumnus dropped his head down on his knees and wrapped his arms around his head. “I know what you’re going to say.”
“Um..well, that makes one of us.” Tine smiled to herself. How can someone so big seem so…cute? “How about this then, you can talk for the both of us, and I’ll just take a nap. You let me know when we’re done with the conversation, yeah?”
He laughed, head still down. “I know you’re going to say I can’t fix everything.” He looked up. “But I have to try.”
Autumnus looked so sad, Tine put her hand on his shoulder without thinking. Augh, is that too forward? I feel like I barely know him, but… “Ok…but why? I mean, everyone wants the ice to go away, but it’s not like it’s anyone’s responsibility to get rid of it. Unless, of course, you started the curse in the first place? Then we have to have a serious talk.”
He went on, unfazed by her touch. His eyes looked pained. “I know that, too. But somehow, I can’t accept it.” He sighed. “You must know how hated Aamonwelp are, but I can’t tell you how awful it feels to look like this,” he pointed to his horns and red skin with a pointy, black nail. “…and to be hated as evil. Just for my appearance.”
Tine nodded and reflexively held onto the straps of her pack. As a Mutkin, she could relate, at least a little. And as a—no, don’t make this about you, she thought, he knows enough…at least for now. “I know what it’s like to be second-class because of race,” she pointed to her cat ears. “But no, I don’t know what it’s like to be called evil when you haven’t done anything wrong. That’s the worst.” She rubbed a hand behind her neck. “So, what I guess I don’t get is…WHY exactly do you have to save the world, again?”
He laughed. “I suppose I think it will give the Aamonwelp clan a good name.” He furrowed his brows. “Also, I just honestly want to save it. Is that such a ridiculous thing?”
She laughed now. “No, but let me know how that goes. It seems like a tall order.”
He frowned again, “But weren’t—“
Autumnus interrupted himself as the man they saw working at The Happy Tavern hurried by. “Excuse me,” he held up a long, red finger, “could we have a word?”
The man stopped with a startled halt, slumped his shoulders and spun around. He still looked disheveled; it seemed like his permanent state of being. “Yeah, all right. But just a moment.” He looked up at the darkening sky. “I’ve got to be going.”
Autumnus stood up and smiled. His friendly demeanor did not lessen the impact of their height difference on the man, who looked up, obviously nervous.
“Hello good sir,” Autumnus bowed slightly. “I was wondering if you could point me in the way of the butcher, this map seems to be not worth its cost,” he said, and showed him Crazy Annie’s drawing on the napkin.
The man squinted at the crude map. “Oh, you want The Big Pig? I guess you just..well, go two streets that way...then one to the left. But, I warn you—you should think about getting indoors. It's getting dark now. There are rooms at The Happy Dragon to let for the night. Good for business, and all, but I wish…" With that, he shrugged and hurried off.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
As Autumnus watched him go. Tine stood up to join him and put a light hand on his elbow. “Hey, I think any butcher shop would be closed by now. Let’s go back to the inn for the night.” Instantly she blushed. Good Mut. It sounds like I’m trying to seduce him now! She drew her hand back and looked away, ears down. “I mean, it would be a good idea for us to get rooms.”
They returned to The Happy Dragon as the sun sank below the horizon. Tine joined Kylia at the tavern. As she looked around, and saw, well, the usual drunken lot. In fact, for a moment, it made her wonder if she really left home at all, except. Except for a haggard looking young elf in the back who was compulsively lighting and relighting about twelve candles. The table in front of her was covered in melted wax. Judging by the amount, Tine supposed she's been there a rather long time. Kylia had been watching her for some time, so they speculated about this, shared overheard gossip and continued to eavesdrop on tipsy villagers well into the night.
Autumnus, emotionally exhausted, decided to turn in early and took a room at the adjoining inn that overlooked the street from the second floor. He found it comfortably pleasant; the room was sparsely furnished, but effort had been made to make one feel at home. On the bedside table was an informational card for guests. Lying on the bed, he picked it up. It read:
Welcome to The Happy Dragon!
Amenities include:
stables :: tavern :: sauna
Visitor Alert:
Do not go out after dark. Candles, dancing lights and other
eye-catching illusions are prohibited near windows at nighttime.
Vampires stroll the streets and that will draw them near.
:: Thank you! Have a nice stay! ::
Autumnus blew out the candle and got up again to stand by the window. Looking down at the street below, he wondered if he would be able to sleep at all that night.
[https://i.imgur.com/U3nbJh5.jpg] [https://i.imgur.com/U3nbJh5.jpg] [https://i.imgur.com/U3nbJh5.jpg]
Earlier, Zawn and Nemophily dragged Fisher to The Happy Dragon’s inn. When they checked in, Nemophily closed her volume of A Room With a View, and, inspired by the book, asked for just that. The innkeeper gave her a key with a smirk and a wink. She was surprised that a human would flirt openly with an Aamonwelp, but when you’ve got it, you’ve got it.
She frowned as she opened the curtains and found that the window faced a large shrubbery. I know I can see it, but I wouldn’t exactly call that a view. Turning around, she was surprised to see that Zawn had the side of her head pressed against one of the inside walls of the room.
“Zawn, what in Aamon’s name are you doing?” You had to watch those barbarian types; they tended to be good looking, but so unpredictable.
Not moving from her awkward position, Zawn waved her over. “C’mon over. You’ll see.”
Nemophily shrugged and sidled up to her companion. She shook her head as she regarded Zawn up close: So blonde, so busty, but so…weird, she thought. What do I see in her? She smiled. All of the above, of course.
Zawn backed away from the wall, bowed and extended a hand towards a small hole in the wall. “Care to take a peek, m’lady?”
Nemophily gave her a sidelong look and pressed her eye to the hole to discover that it was a makeshift peephole someone had made for looking into the men's sauna. Ah, I see. Here’s the view.
They climbed into the bed and put out the candle. Zawn made Nemophily put out her own flame and stop reading for once. She closed the novel and lie awake. It wasn’t long before Zawn was snoring, and, being taller than Zawn, her feet crowded Fisher, who was curled up on top of the covers at the foot of the bed. She thought she heard Fisher talk to Kilgore as they slept.
Outside, she heard what she presumed was the nightly “passeggiata” the innkeeper told them to be wary of when they checked in. Although the view outside the window was blocked, she could hear the laughing, singing and chatter of the vampires who strolled outside on the city’s streets. Just hearing it all, it was difficult to believe that the conversation was livelier than the Strige were.
It was also difficult for Nemophily, who was curious by nature, to stay inside and avoid such a spectacle. Lying in the dark, she tried to satisfy herself with imagining what the Strige nobles looked like as they cascaded down the boulevard to see and be seen. She remembered the innkeepers vivid description and called it to mind; they would be dressed to the hilt, reminiscing with friends, and drinking from wine glasses filled with blood. She put a hand on Zawn’s leg. Not tonight. Don’t go tonight. You can spy on them another time. Soon.
Nemophily sat up in bed. Wait! Where’s Rhalia? Is she still out there?