Adelade

I wept bitterly for the rest of the night and day, alternating between cursing Detrand for his betrayal and cursing myself for my bitter hope. And just when my mind would settle for a time and I would begin to drift into sleep, I would remember that because of my silliness I’d cursed Lula to a lifetime of eternal gloom. Then my guilt would cling to my heart, squeezing it tight and I would wake up unable to breathe.

If I managed to fall into a troubled sleep, I tortured myself with dreams of Detrand’s naked skin on mine, his olive body wrapped around me, his hands touching… And then I would wake with a start to the remembrance that I would never enter his bed, would never feel his arms around me, or hear his husky voice in my ear. That I would never see the glimmer of hope in his eyes, hear the tease in his voice again nor see the acts of kindness he bestowed on those he loved.

As the sun waned in the sky, I was tempted to go to him. Not to make passionate love but to hit him with all my might over and over. However, harboring any harmful intent towards him would only bar my way to him, for thus were the wards designed over their sleeping places. Even the slightest bit of anger would keep me from his room. So I wrestled through an endless cycle of wakefulness and dozing until I could stand it no longer and I stood on my feet, fuming that he’d gone to Sophie in an ultimate act of treachery towards me.

I made to leave my bed but a sudden wave of emotion washed over me and I struggled to contain them; Detrand was awake. I knew not which emotions were mine own but they mixed into Detrand’s, with his blood in my veins, mixing and clawing at me, like a bird struggling to get out. In one moment I was angry and it washed over me. I clutched my father’s stake from underneath my pillow, wishing to use it on everyone and anyone. The passion of it was so overcoming, it was almost unbearable. The next moment was followed by lust so strong that I ran my hands up my body in a passionate gesture of desire.

Wishing to separate the agony and darkness of Detrand’s feelings I went to the window of my room and flung it open, allowing the coolness of the air to wash over me. I took in a deep breath, allowing the agony and pain to flow through my body, knowing I could control it. I was the master of my body, of my destiny. If Detrand would chase me from his house, then I would be a free woman as I’d always wished.

I would live in my Father’s home and make a life for myself. I wouldn’t allow Landon in my home; Detrand couldn’t make that choice for me. Setting my lips in a determined line, I went to my mother’s chest and opened it. It was empty except for the letter that my father had given me; the letter Detrand had tracked down and retrieved from those senseless street rats. They were lucky he hadn’t killed them on sight. I held it to my lips for a moment, pushing my love and tenderness into it, and then lay it on the window sill. I went to my closet and looked over my clothes. Touching the velvety green one, my favorite, I determined that I would take as little as possible bought with Detrand’s coins.

I gathered the majority of my dresses, slipped quietly out of my room, and went down the hall to Lula’s to hang them in her closet. We were the same size and she could wear them; she’d chosen them anyway. Then I went through her clothes and picked out the ones that I knew she’d brought with her, leaving the most elegant ones. I packed them in my mother’s chest and dressed for the last evening I planned on spending in Detrand’s home. I chose the green velvety one because it created a mischievous sparkle in Detrand’s eye each time I wore it.

I wanted to torture him as he tortured me. At this thought, a wave of grief threatened to overtake me but I pushed it down and left my room.

* * *

I followed the path to Lula’s grave to make sure that she was undisturbed. How I longed to know her thoughts about her situation. Would she be upset and cry? Or would she thank me for insisting on saving her, even though she was no longer human.

Frowning, I doubted that she would feel any sort of gratitude towards me. We’d never discussed becoming a strigoi but I was pretty sure that neither one of us wished to become one. Why then had she partaken of so much blood from Rowan? Or was it another strigoi she’d drunken from?

Seeing that all was well in her grave, I kissed the palm of my hand and put it on the dirt, a gesture of my love for her and my sorrow for my part in her death.

As I walked towards the house, I could feel eyes on me. I knew that Detrand was awake now even though he had not yet left his room. Could it be him, watching me from the shadows? Or was it some other monster hiding in the dark? I gripped the kitchen knife hidden in the folds of my dress, just in case.

It seemed to take forever to walk from the grave to the house and with each step my heart beat faster. By the time I entered the side door, I was so filled with anxiety that my fingers ached from gripping the knife so tightly. After I shut the door, I leaned against it, listening for anything amiss but heard nothing so I went to the kitchen, calling for the cook.

Phyllis was elbow-deep in bread dough and she looked at me like I was the last thing she wanted to entertain.

“Have you seen Raisa today?”

She frowned. “Now why would I know her whereabouts?”

As I stepped further into the kitchen, her frown grew deeper. “Because ever since she came to live with us, the pudding has tasted sweeter,” I took a spot of the bread dough and tasted it, “and the bread is a little bit taller.” I smiled at her but her eyebrow just rose higher.

“I don’t know what you’re referring to, but I always put enough sugar in my puddin—”

Raisa walked through the door with a small pouch in her hands. “I found the brown sugar. It was next to the vials of basil and coriander.” She looked at me. “Hello, Adelade. You’re up.” Her eyes studied me sadly but I turned from her stare. I didn’t want to talk about Lula.

Raisa blinked and I noticed for the first time the shimmery scales that lined the side of her face and up to her eyelashes. Were those always visible? Or was I only seeing them now that I’d become aware of the fae.

“Hello,” I returned the greeting, giving Phyllis a significant gaze, who only turned her head, her cheeks tinged red. “I was looking for you.”

Raisa studied me, a serious look on her face. I knew that she had powers, just like the other fae, and I wondered at what she was doing. Finally she answered me. “Have you seen Lily? It’s been some time since she’s been by.”

I scowled; ever since Detrand retrieved my mother’s desk Lily had given me several threatening glances. Her absence had been met with a happy casualty on my part. “Have you been by her house?”

Raisa nodded. “She hasn’t been there in some time.”

I shrugged. “Ever since the fire we haven’t entertained much. Maybe she’s found other activities to amuse her.”

Phyllis started to mash the dough again and Raisa put her arm on her shoulder. “Not so harsh, remember? We don’t want the bread to come out flat.”

Phyllis began to move more slowly and I joined them to watch. My mother had taught me how to cook but it had been so many years that I’d forgotten many things. I watched them carefully as Raisa guided the cook through the steps, making mental notes for when I would return home.

The reminder that I would be leaving washed over me like cold water and I shivered. And then suddenly, I felt his presence; Detrand was close. It reminded me of why I was here.

“Raisa, I heard that you make the most delicious cakes.” I tried to smile brightly but held some gravity to my face to express my meaning.

“Uh-hmm.” She was dusting the dough with soft flour. “I have in my past, many moons ago.”

“They say your cake was the best in the realm, with honey and rice.” She looked up at me now, her eyes studying me. “And ever since then, I’d had the greatest desire to learn how to make it.”

“Rice?” Phyllis paused to look up at me. When I nodded she looked at Raisa.

“That’s enough kneading, Phyllis.” Raisa’s smile was frozen on her face. “Do we have any butter? I couldn’t find it and I’d love some butter on the bread when it’s finished. If you’ll find the butter, I’ll set this aside to rise, then we can put it in the oven.”

Phyllis gave me a dirty look, then moved towards the back room, muttering. “I’ll not be offended if you’d like to speak without my presence, as long as you have the dignity to tell me so.”

I sighed, unhappy that I’d offended her. I’d have to find some peaches in the market; they were rare this time of year but Phyllis was very fond of them. As soon as she’d disappeared around the corner, Raisa leaned forward on the table so that she could whisper to me.

“What have you done?”

For a moment I didn’t know what to say or how to say it. My desire to save the little fae from a lashing had overcome all faculties but now I was regretting it deeply. Besides, I had other things to consider, such as how to carry my mother’s chest to my house, for I was unwilling to think of other directions my life had advanced.

“I haven’t done much, I only offered to make a loaf of cake. That’s all.” She was fully aware of my predicament and yet I tried to underplay it simply because I was embarrassed.

Her eyes narrowed into thin strips and my face grew redder by the second. “I was merely trying to help.”

“Was it Cort? Did he tell you that the king would beat him with a thousand stripes if he didn’t have the cake?”

My eyes widened. “Twenty-thousand stripes. Did he lie?” I couldn’t bear it if he’d tricked me.

“Oh no. The fae cannot lie. The king will whip him.” Her face was solemn and suddenly I felt better about my decision.

“Well, I must make the cake since I have promised to do it. ‘A bargain made is a bargain fulfilled,’ my father always taught me. I’ve come to beg your help.” I bit my lip as a sudden bout of anxiety began to fill my chest and I pressed my hand to it. Raisa gently pulled the dough from the table and laid it in a warm spot next to the oven, then she placed a moist cloth over it, delaying her answer. I dithered while I waited, picking up the bits of dough left on the table and cleaning it as best as I could. Phyllis banged some pots in the back room making quite a racket as she cleaned them.

I found I couldn’t wait for her answer any longer and just as I was about to burst out from anticipation she turned towards me. “I will help you but in return, I would like an answer to a question.”

A sudden rage came over me and I pressed it down, realizing that it wasn’t my emotions that I was feeling, but Detrand’s. I took in a deep breath to try to calm myself and suddenly a warm tingling sensation ran up my arm and into my chest. I looked up to see Raisa’s hand on my shoulder.

“What is it about you?” Her head was tilted to the side and she stared into my face curiously. “Did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“That feeling. I felt a calmness come over me, did you do that?”

She nodded. “You have a way about you and I can’t yet determine if it will be his undoing or his greatest triumph. Which do you think it will be?”

I stumbled over my answer, completely astonished at her words. “I have nothing, I am no one. I am neither the wind nor the water to him but just a passing glance. My father, he owed him a debt and I was to pay it through my service here.”

“And yet, you do not fulfill it.”

My face burned red. “That is because they would not allow it! Just ask Phyllis, she drove me from her kitchen if I dared enter.”

“And why is that?” When I had no answer, she responded. “That is because the master of the home requires it, for they serve him faithfully.”

I stared at her in a wonder and yet, I had no response. She studied me for a minute longer and then turned to the table. “The rice will take a week to soak and in the meantime—”

“A week?” I couldn’t help my interruption. “That seems unnecessarily long.”

She nodded. “That is the way it must be cooked, it will take that long to be soft enough.”

“Mushy, you mean.”

She shrugged. “In the meantime, we must procure the key ingredient, which will not be easy. Are you sure that this is what you want?”

I nodded. “I have made a promise and as such will fulfill it.”

She sighed and put her hand on my shoulder again and it calmed me. I hadn’t even realized that I was growing anxious again. “You have a good heart and I hope you survive this to fulfill your promise.”

My mouth dropped open. “I’m not sure what you mean…”

Suddenly Detrand burst into the kitchen and I felt a burning, raging knot in my stomach.

“Raisa, you will go in her stead and procure the ingredient. I will not allow you to take her there.”

I jumped at his explosive entrance and put my hand to my chest, breathing rapidly. Would I ever get used to his ways? Then unhappily I realized that after tomorrow, I wouldn’t need to.

Raisa went to the stove and began to boil water in preparation for her pudding. She turned back to Detrand. “I will soak the rice for her but I’m unable to retrieve the ingredient. If Adelade made a promise to the king, then I’m unable to even attempt it. They will only relinquish it to him or her who has made the bond.”

He frowned and began to pace the small kitchen. “Then I will go with her, to assure her safety.”

I folded my arms across my chest, my anger beginning to rise.

Raisa shook her head. “The only time to obtain it is when the sun rises in the sky and you,” she folded her arms and looked at him plainly, “will be dead at that hour.”

He bit his lip and wiped his tongue on a drop of blood. “There may be a way, I would need—”

“Excuse me.” I was fuming now and could stand it no longer. I looked at Raisa. “I will go to — this place — in the morning. Will that work with your schedule?”

She nodded. “I’m available in the morning.”

Detrand growled. “You will not go there without my protection.”

“I will.”

He strode closer to me and as he neared, smelling of wood shavings and lust, all the fire in my belly descended lower but I refused to give in to my passion.

“Your father entrusted you into my care and I will not disappoint him. I will accompany you to this place and,” he glanced at Raisa, “I will determine a way to be available.”

I eyed Detrand with fire in my eyes. “You will not accompany me to this place because you no longer have reason to stand as protector over me. As you’ve made it quite clear, this is my home no longer, but yours. I am allowed to live out my days as I wish and,” I looked at Raisa who was grinning merrily, “my wish is that I go to… wherever it is that I need to go. With Raisa. On the morrow, when the sun rises.”

I looked to Raisa and she nodded. “Meet me by the Winged Pony at dawn.”

“I’ll meet you at the… The Winged Pony then, at dawn.”

A low growl rose from Detrand and he made to go to me but I turned on my heel and called towards the back room. “Phyllis?”

Her head popped out from behind the door. She was twisting her apron nervously and glancing at Detrand apprehensively. “Yes, miss?”

“Please arrange for the porter to bring my chest from my room. I’d like to bring it to my Father’s home tonight.”

“This evening?” Detrand leaned against the counter; his hand gripping it so tight, it was crumbling under his touch. I swallowed hard, feeling slightly afraid.

“Yes.” Suddenly I made the decision that I would leave immediately. “I would like to return home this evening.”

I looked back at Phyllis and she curtsied. “I’ll arrange it as soon as the bread is in the oven.” Then she looked toward it in sweet anticipation of the taste of bread but when she looked over, her face fell. Detrand was squeezing the dough through his fingers in frustration.

“Thank you.” I meant to apologize for ruining her dough but held my tongue and left the kitchen. I walked towards my room but Detrand was suddenly behind me, grabbing my arm. His touch burned through my skin; his hold, not harsh but gentle.

“I told you to stay until after Lula awoke.” Even though his words were demanding, his voice was low and rough and it set my body aflame.

“I cannot stay here any longer than necessary. I will return during the day to make sure Lula has not been disturbed, and then I will come when she has risen. Of course, I will be available for her, for whatever she will need.” I swallowed hard. “If she — she needs my blood. Or whatever her needs will be, I will provide it.”

“There will be thralls enough to provide the blood that she requires. What she will need however, will be the companionship of her friend as she rises, which I’d hoped you would be willing to give her.”

I looked into his face, surprised. “It’s as if you were asking me to stay.”

He turned away, dropping my arm, and faced the fire. “Only for your friend for these next evenings, because the transition will not be easy. Her new blood will burn through her body, causing a great fever and pain.” He looked into my eyes now. “It’s hell opened up. She will need you.”

An overwhelming sensation washed over my body and I knew in that moment that his words were not meant to be spoken openly but in secret places and in hushed tones. He meant not to say, ‘She will need you,’ but, ‘I need you.’

A heat tore through my body and I felt his passion and his longing. He feared for my safety and held a desire to hide me from the world, though I knew not why. He craved my presence while simultaneously wanted me to flee from him and never return. Why, why? I wanted to stomp my feet in protest and frustration.

He looked at me with a spark of hope in his eyes, clouded over by his confusion. And then the memory of my own hope being crushed like a flower in the master’s hand, the absolute pain and devastation I felt as his lust was unleashed in Sophie’s bedroom brought me to my senses. I turned away, the pain plainly showing on my face as a fresh wave of anguish hit me. It almost caused me to fall to the floor but I held my feet steady and then I walked away from him, towards my room.

“I will move my things to my home and then return as Lula needs me. Only as long as she has a fever, and then when she is ready, we will meet in the docks or at my home.” I turned back to him, my anger making me bold. “Or anywhere really, except for here.”

As I walked away, I felt a mixture of anger and anguish and it swelled like a flood over my senses. Holding myself as steady as possible, I made my way to my room to finish packing.

Cursing under his breath, Detrand moved back towards the kitchen. “Phyllis, tell the porter that I need him immediately. I’ve errands to run. Raisa, come with me.”

I swiveled around in shock and indignation but he’d already left the room. The noises of Phyllis scrambling to obey her master were a confirmation that I would not have use of the carriage to bring my belongings to my home this evening. This time I did stomp my foot in frustration. When I went to my room, I collected my remaining belongings, shoved them in my chest and, using all the energy my pent up anger allowed, I heaved it and my mother’s desk towards the door and left it in the great hall.

* * *

I stomped down the streets towards the chapel, grumbling and arguing with Detrand in my mind the whole way there. Once I entered the doors, I took in two deep breaths and, feeling calmer, sat on the pew closest to the back. I stared at the cross at the front of the small chapel and my salvation became a heaviness on my mind.

My whole life I believed in a being stronger and higher than myself. What was He thinking of me now? Did He turn his eye to my measly life and wonder at it? Had He created the strigoi, sent to punish the wicked who lived on the earth? Or had the strigoi been the effect of some sort of progression of man; those who were faster, stronger, or more efficient at survival who would endure through the centuries, leaving the rest of us to come and go like waves of the sea.

After some time, the Father, who stepped more quietly than a Father ought to, came to sit next to me. He said nothing but his presence offered a sort of opening inside me, my mind became more in tune to my feelings, my emotions brought to the surface.

Why had I come here?

Initially I thought to arrange for a carriage and some help with my luggage but now I knew that was not my main purpose here. I willed my mind to calm itself even though a sordid sense of despondency threatened to overtake me at the priest’s presence.

It was my fault Lula was dead and this was a sin I must pay for.

I looked at the Father, whose speculative gaze on me created a spark of tears at the rims of my eyes which threatened to spill over onto my cheeks. Seeing this, he put his arm around me and kissed the top of my head, whispering in my ear. “Dear child.”

I could never admit out loud of the new life I’d bestowed on my dearest friend, for one never spoke of the strigoi in public, but he seemed to know of my suffering anyway. Using hushed tones and gentle strokes at my hair, I began to feel a calm come over me, the type of calm that comes from one knowing the truth of someone and still accepting them for it. That God could absolve all sin, if one was truly sorry for it.

After some time, I put my hand over his on the bench and squeezed it gently. He turned to me, a twinkle in his eye and smiled. The lines around his eyes were soft and I felt that in unspoken words, he spoke to me as a holy messenger to tell me that forgiveness was in hand. I took in a deep breath, hoping that Lula would feel the same way.

“I’m in need of a carriage and a porter. Can you help me?”

He smiled again. “Oh yes, Adelade. I may not be able to do much, but I can arrange this.”

I wondered at what he meant but was happy for the help and, at his movement to rise I followed him to one of the side rooms where a page slept peacefully.

* * *

With the page’s help, I arranged for the porter to take my belongings to my home and then I walked quietly through the streets. My nights and days were blended and I had no desire to sleep, for I was anxious to meet with Raisa.

Even though I was bundled tight, the chill seeped into my bones and I wrapped my arms around myself. It had been several days since I’d seen Bastin, the child who’d fought with me against the street rats, and I’d searched for him diligently to take care that he was well attended to.

I was assured that even though I would no longer live in the residence of the mansion on the hill, Phyllis would still provide food for the boy because she’d always been happy to do it.

I also kept my eyes out for the ruffians who’d taken my letter that fateful day. I’d seen them among the streets, as rough and reckless as ever, and realized that they were much older than I initially thought, almost the same age as me. I desperately wished I could figure out a way to help their activities become more fruitful and less harmful for others.

However, seeing as I had no work myself, I’d yet to determine how I could help them.

I wandered through the streets for quite some time, looking for both Bastin and the Winged Pony with a creeping sensation that the evil undergrowth that lived the in darkness of the city was growing stronger. Its energy pulsed at a low frequency, making my body buzz and my mind alert. I sort of lost myself in it, and when I became aware of my surroundings again I looked up to see Raisa staring at me menacingly.

* * *

“You walk with darkness child. The shadows cling to you.”

I turned to look behind myself quickly, the kitchen knife in my hand but there was no one. When I looked back to her, she was studying my face intently.

“What?” I cried this out, unused to her stares and strange mumblings.

“You know your own mind, I like it.”

Surprised, I shrugged. What could I say to that?

“Detrand requested that I suppress his emotions from your blood.” She folded her hands across her chest. “I’ve done as he requested for now, but I want to know. What say ye?”

My thoughts churned, realizing only now that it had been a while since I’d felt him. For a moment, I missed it and I felt a deep regret that she’d followed his instructions. Then I determined it would be better this way so I nodded.

She sighed. “Yes, I think it is better this way as well. Here,” she took something from her pocket; it was an intricately carved wooden handle. “He also requested that I give you this. You press this here.” She pushed an inlaid circle and a sharp and deadly blade spit out. She pressed the circle again and the blade disappeared. The she took the kitchen knife from my hand and gave me the new one. “It’s small but deadly. And, convenient.”

I studied it, pressing the circle gently to get a feel for it.

“Detrand carved it himself.”

At her words, I pressed my lips into a thin line and pocketed it. “Many thanks.”

“Corasova, numem.” She touched my forehead and a splitting pain burst through my head. I cried out, holding my head and cursing her. “Couldn’t you have given me a warning?”

She laughed, and the sound was rich and healing. “A warning wouldn’t have made the pain hurt any less.” She touched my forehead again; it was cool and soothing, then I felt something in my hand.

I looked down and it was a soft leather bag filled with coins. She folded her hand over mine. “You will need this. Ask for DeChadik and tell him you need some lunaviene. Tell him I sent you.”

“You’re not coming with me?” My heart picked up and my palms grew wet with sweat. She shook her head and then pressed her hand to my cheek, looking into my eyes. “Go in strength and wit.” She twisted my head to the side and I noticed a wooden sign tacked to the brick wall.

The Winged Pony.

Taking a deep breath, I moved across the street and opened the door. A large portly man stood just inside. His hands rested across his large stomach and his one eye narrowed as I entered. His other eye had a great slash through it and I attempted not to stare at it.

“You’ve got the wrong place.” His voice was high and I gulped down my laughter, for it was so strange compared to the large man in front of me. Frowning, he slammed the door in my face.

I grit my teeth and opened the door again. “I’m here for DeChadik.” I hoped I was saying his name correctly.

He looked me up and down. “Oh yer are, are ya? Tell me sometin, how many fingers do I got?”

I looked at the hand he was waving in my face. “Four.”

He knit his brow but took a step back. “Alright.”

I passed by him, holding my breath. Suddenly I had an irrational fear that he would grab me with his big hands and squeeze the breath from me. He took a deep breath through his nose and I passed, and his tongue licked his lips. “You smell delicious.”

I squeaked and scampered down the hallway and then almost stopped in wonder. I was standing at a threshold: the room below me was enormous, much larger than should be contained in such a small space. It was brimming with smoke and the most strange and mystical creatures filled it. A horse with actual wings was tied to a wooden stall near the back and I stared at it, longing to run my hands down its side.

I began to descend the stairs and a one-eyed creature turned his neck to stare at me. His eye was black and orb-like and it blinked slowly as it followed me. I ignored him as I approached the bar. A giant man who looked very similar to the man at the door was behind it and at my approach, he stared me down. The creatures at the bar glanced my way but most returned to their drinks, which were casting an eerie blue glow over the bar.

I cleared my throat and then attempted to look sure of myself, when I noticed a bowl of soft-looking peaches on the bar.

“Are those peaches?”

The bartender didn’t look at me.

“Can I purchase one? I was about to obtain some tomorrow.”

The man put down the glass he was cleaning and grabbed several. “‘Ere, take the bunch.”

“Thank you.” Phyllis would be so pleased. I tried to look serious. “I’m looking for DeChadik.”

The bartender frowned and a stool three seats from me scraped across the floor as a child stood up. When he looked at me, I realized that it wasn’t a child but a very short, thin man. He smiled and moved his way towards me.

“You’re looking for DeChadik?” His blue-green eyes pierced into me and I shivered.

“Yes. Are you DeChadik?”

“For you, I could be.” He smiled, licking his lips with a long pointy tongue and I felt a prickling at the back of my neck. I clasped my hand on the knife in my pocket, and the touch of the cool wood was soothing.

“Leave her be, Gremly.” The bartender then looked at me. “What do you want with DeChadik?”

Gremly wrapped his arm around my waist and I attempted to step from it but he held me tight. “Why don’t you come over to my table? I’ll bring DeChadik right to you.” He smiled slyly as he pointed in the direction of the darkness that lay beyond the room. “He’s a dear friend; I promise I'll bring him straight away.”

I stomped on his foot and pulled the knife to his neck, the blade at the ready. Then I looked at the bartender. “I think that’s my business. Will you direct me to him, or not?”

The bartender growled and Gremly swallowed hard as I pricked his neck with the knife. A drop of a sticky, gooey substance leaked from it.

“What’s your business with DeChadik?” The bartender’s arm was holding something just out of my line of sight and I was sure I wanted no part of whatever it was.

“Raisa sent me.”

Both men visibly relaxed and the bartender’s arm dropped to his side. “Why didn’t you just say so?” The bartender grabbed a glass from the rack above him and spit in it, then rubbed it with a cloth, after which he put it in on the bar in front of me. Then he grabbed a bottle and poured it into the glass; it was a dark liquid.

“Drink this.”

I turned up my nose and he folded his arms across his chest. “If you want to see DeChadik, you have to drink that.”

I raised my eyebrow, considering it. I rationalized that Raisa wouldn’t have sent me in here if she believed they would poison me. Clutching onto that thought, I grabbed the glass, still keeping my knife to Gremly’s throat and threw it into my mouth. It scorched as it slipped down my throat and burned as it settled in my stomach.

I put the glass back on the bar and gave him a look. Satisfied, he turned and walked behind the bar and into the room off of the back entrance.

Gremly’s hand slid up my arm and his eyes locked onto mine. “Let the knife go.”

I felt a haziness over my mind but I dug my knife in even deeper. He clasped his hand to his neck as the sticky substance dribbled down his neck.

“Touch me again and it won’t be your neck I go after.” I let my eyes drift lower and he stared at me in surprise. I took a step back and Gremly scurried back to his stool. He gave me a dark look as he sat down again and I met his stare. There was no doubt in my mind he would’ve had his way with me if I’d gone with him and I left no room in his mind for this line of thought. He grunted, then went back to nursing his drink.

I shifted my attention back to waiting for the bartender but kept an eye out for the little man. After what seemed like several minutes, the bartender returned. “He’ll see you. Wait at that table over there.” He pointed to an empty table in the corner of the room, near the winged horse. I tried not to show my excitement; I would pass right by it and would be able to take a look.

I nodded solemnly, piling the peaches in my arms and then turned around. I slowed as I neared the horse and noted with some surprise that he had a horn. It was true; I was looking at a real life unicorn. My mouth dropped open and I stared at it. An overwhelming desire to touch it came over me. Just as I was about to do so, a loud voice boomed in my ear.

“Don’t touch her, she bites.”

I jumped, my hand frozen in the air. As I turned, I met with a burly man. His head was aflame with bright blue hair and my eyes grazed over the thick scar near his hairline.

“DeChadik?”

He motioned towards the table. “Sit.”

Disappointed that I’d been thwarted from petting the unicorn, I sat at the table and the chair creaked as his large frame sat across from me. I felt very small next to him.

“What do you need?” His dark brown eyes stared right into my soul. He tightened and released the muscles in his forearms and I imagined with one large swipe he could throw me across the room.

“Raisa sent me. I’ve come to purchase some lunaviene.”

He grunted and it rumbled through his large chest. He lifted his lips in a sneer. “You’re too early to retrieve it. It must be when the sun rises, it’s still dark.”

“The sun will rise soon enough.”

“Do you even know the properties of lunaviene? What’s it for?”

I swallowed the spittle stuck in my throat. “I’m to use it to bake a cake.”

I left it at that for to say more was to betray my ignorance, which I really didn’t want to do, and he laughed.

“I’ll say. A cake.” His laughter grew louder and it roared across the room and some of the creatures turned to stare at me. I caught a waft of something foul smelling and I glanced across the room.

A woman was staring at DeChadik and I could see every bit of her breasts through her dress. When she caught me staring, she grinned and leaned over, showing everything, her lips twisted in a flirty invitation. I blanched and sweat began to form at the top of my forehead. Dabbing at it, I turned back to DeChadik. He was wiping his eyes now, his laughter becoming a hiccup in his throat.

“And who would you be making this cake for? Yourself?”

I frowned. “Not for myself but for a special King.” I slowly raised an eyebrow at him and his laugh died in his throat, then he frowned.

“I’ll not be giving you lunaviene, especially for that purpose.” He leaned across the table, “And by the looks of you, you’re in deeper water than you can handle. I’d run away if I were you, as fast as my little feet could carry me.”

I gripped the table, growing frustrated. “However, you’re not me. I have money to pay. You shouldn’t need anything else.”

“Oh, if only it were that easy. I require coins for the transaction but the lunaviene itself only shows herself to one worthy of its taste.”

“Then let her test me, I’m ready to prove my worth.”

His eyebrows furrowed and I stood still as his eyes traced the line of my body. He suddenly stood up. “No thanks. I’m not to be responsible for your certain death.” He looked off towards the back of the bar. “I wouldn’t have a place to hide your dead body.”

Standing, I felt a sway to my body and tried not to show my anxiety. I didn’t know what I would do if he wouldn’t sell it to me. “Raisa gave me your name in confidence. I’m sure she’ll be troubled to know that your name isn’t worthy of the praise she gave you.” Using her name worked before, possibly it could help me now.

He shook his head and turned away. “Feel free to give her my regards.”

I lay my hand on his shoulder trying to delay his leaving, desperate now. “I’m sure Detrand will want to know as well.”

He swallowed hard. “Detrand?”

I shrugged, letting go of his shoulder and made as if to leave.

Now he grabbed onto my arm. “Wait, now. You didn’t tell me it was for Detrand. Now that’s a different story.” He guided me back to my chair and I sat down, trying not to smirk. As he eased himself back into his chair, he grinned and his whole body relaxed. “I’d be happy to provide some lunaviene for Detrand.”

He waved at the bartender, who brought us both a drink. I eyed mine speculatively, but DeChadik swallowed his in two gulps. He slammed the glass on the table and gestured for me to finish my glass.

I took a small sip; the taste was bitter. What kind of drinks did they serve here? “It’s not for Detrand. It’s for me.”

“Oh well,” his eyebrows lifted and he shrugged. “If Detrand believes you worthy then who am I to argue?” He laughed, his shoulders shaking, and I tried to smile.

“So,” I tried to push away any doubts. Detrand didn’t exactly trust me to obtain it by myself. “When can I obtain it?” My eyelids felt very heavy.

“Do you know why I named this establishment the Winged Pony?”

I raised my eyebrows, unsure what this had to do with the lunaviene, but I decided to humor him because the answer was obvious enough. I pointed to the unicorn. “Because you’ve trapped some poor une-corn here for your pleasure.” I was beginning to feel giddy and my words were slurring together.

He looked in the direction of the unicorn. “Unicorn? That’s no unicorn. That’s my horse, Amyris.” He looked at me speculatively. “I named her after my woman whom I used to ride like a mare, until she off and left me.” His laughter spilled out of his chest again and it echoed throughout the room.

I pointed at the unicorn again. “That is a une-corn. You can’t fool me.” The heavy feeling from my eyelashes began to spread to my head until I could no longer hold it up. I lay it on the table, but DeChadik continued to ramble on about his, what I’m sure was, lovely ex-wife. Finally, unable to keep my eyes open any longer, I closed them.

The last thing I heard before I passed out was a sigh and the scraping of DeChadik’s chair.