Chapter 15

Throughout the walk to The Reeds Residence, the same trio of The Howlers continued to follow us. They stayed far enough away to make sure that they never appeared to be a physical threat, but it was obvious to me that they were watching. I didn’t know if it was a simple attempt at intimidation, or if someone had sent them to see who my allies in town were. Although, in some ways, I hoped it was the latter.

A smirk formed as I thought of them trying to go after Reeds or Sheryl. Old they may be, but my brief time with them told me neither would be the type to take being pushed around lightly. As we went, I found myself leaning a touch more on Sheryl than I would have liked, and I cursed myself for not getting checked by healer Anna when I had the chance. With the revelation about what I had stepped into, it simply didn’t cross my mind at the right time.

Sheryl glanced at me, and I found myself grateful when she slowed down a touch. From my other side, Rita glanced at me, concerned. I did my best to give them both a reassuring smile. The last thing I needed was to show weakness here.

When we reached the front door, Sheryl stopped, and for the first time this trip unlinked her arm from mine. I wavered a touch from the loss of her support, but then watched in fascination as she reached up and ran her hand over a scar on the wooden doorframe. She looked wistful, almost pleased, and it was clear that the action was an automatic one for her.

“A story there, ma’am?” I asked.

Sheryl nodded, and smiled, her bushy fox tail weaved patterns in the air behind her. “This happened the first time my Reeds met with my father after he built us this house. He put it together himself, that was before he retired from being a carpenter. My father tried to cut his head off, but Reeds was quicker.”

“I take it your father disapproved?” My question made her laugh.

“By that point? Not at all.” Her smile deepened, and she touched the mark again. “Oh, he had at first. When this happened, it was simply his way of greeting his new son-in-law. I’d never seen someone yell at my father, though. He claimed damaging this house was as good as damaging me. It was the first time my father apologized to anyone that I know of.”

My gaze rested on the mark, and my mind drifted back to the time someone had scuffed my father’s coach. It had been a cold one, mostly because I had to wait for the guards to release him from the local lockup.

When the silence stretched on too long, I coughed. “Reeds is a good man.”

“He is. The best. Thank you once again.”

“As I said, to me that debt is paid.” I glanced towards her. “Though I know how you feel about that.”

“You do.” She smiled and reached into her clothes to produce a key.

A click sounded, and she opened it, before she gestured for Rita and me to head inside. Neither of the guards tried to enter, although she gave them the stink eye anyway, as though daring them to ask. They didn’t, and soon she closed the door, leaving them outside. Beside me, I saw Rita’s hand finally leave her sword hilt as her shoulders visibly relaxed. It surprised me what a calming effect that had on me.

As we all took off our shoes and placed them on a nearby rack, I took the time to examine the entrance hall. It was neat and tidy, with wooden floors covered by a soft sheepskin rug. Instead of doors, a series of purple bead curtains marked the entrance to the other rooms. Once I finished struggling, neither my back nor legs wanting to bend, we once more followed Sheryl through the house.

She led us into a living room, where a squat table sat in the middle of the room surrounded by several large beanbags. A fireplace sat nearby, and on top of it sat a handful of smaller portraits. Reeds and Sheryl, always hand in hand, in various locations I didn’t recognise. Before Sheryl could sit, I pulled myself away from studying the images and moved to her bean bag.

With as much pomp and ceremony as I could muster, I fluffed it up, and then gave her an awkward half bow. “A throne for the lady of the house.”

“You know that much about Wresti customs?” she sounded like she was about to laugh as she sat down, which matched the bemused smile on her face.

“I do.” From across, Rita stared at me, and I gestured her to sit, which she followed, finally allowing me to take a seat myself. “An old, nearly my first, employer had me shadow them to a dinner with a western diplomat. He chose me because he thought I would do a good job entertaining the man’s wife and four daughters during the meal. It was, frankly, a nightmare.”

Sheryl raised a hand to her mouth, but it did little to stifle the giggle. “Were they not demure and beautiful enough for a good sir like yourself?”

“The opposite. It was my first job, and I was terrified of their silent, stunning visages. I almost blew the entire thing. If I hadn’t been able to dredge up a few tidbits, and play a decent game of Shiraloon, I’d have been in true trouble.”

“Shiraloon?” Rita asked, frowning at me.

“A card and dice game. Few outside the higher ups in the western theocracy play it,” I said, as I looked around to start serving the fruit drinks that would be custom, but of course none were around.

“My father tried to teach me, back when he thought I would take over guarding the temple.” Sheryl let out a wistful sigh. “I’m so glad I don’t ever have to deal with it again.”

I gave a nod, as I tried to keep my balance on the beanbag, a fact I noted, neither of the women with me seemed to be having trouble with. Sheryl glanced my way and met my eye. Her smile faded, and a more thoughtful look passed over her. It was obvious the time for pleasantries and silly stories was done.

“Chad, you have done me a great service. You brought my husband back. While you may have paid him, you have not yet been properly paid by me.”

Poker Face helped keep the look of worry off my face, as she placed her hands on the table, palms up. A Wresti signal to say she came as an empty-handed supplicant. It was used by those who wished to petition a temple watcher, but could not pay a tithe. My stomach churned at the thought of someone using such a sign with me. While not sacrilegious, it was awkward, like someone calling me your highness without irony.

“I’m a businessman. A Fixer.” my words were soft. “Not someone worthy of that. Please, ma’am. Don’t.”

Her eyes met mine, and I could see a well of gratitude there. It spoke of debts and favours. I hated it. The only saving grace was that it was clear she had an idea on how to pay back that debt.

“You saved my husband. That makes you family.”

Cold filled me, and I leaned away. “My father is dead.”

Rita shot me a look at that, and I saw something in her eyes. Sympathy perhaps? Maybe an understanding. Either way, I didn’t keep her gaze for long. I didn’t want to see whatever it was. This whole situation was awkward enough. It needed to end.

“You said you want to pay me back, ma’am?” I turned my attention to Sheryl again. “Deals and contracts are my speciality, or they will be once I get my class upgrade. But they are what I do now. What can we do to square away this debt?”

“That depends on what you plan on doing next?” She looked between us.

“A trip to Leyloon. To see what I’m working with. Then, I’m not sure. Try to figure out how to get Rita’s business off the ground in a way that makes sense. Not whatever she’s doing now.”

Across from me, Rita shifted uncomfortably but said nothing. Sheryl kept her attention on me. “Then you will need transport.”

“True, but I don’t think Reeds is well enough to drive us.” I tried to chuckle to lighten the mood, but it didn’t work.

“No.” She agreed. “But you know how to drive it. Thus, I want to give it, and the horses, to you.”

My back shot jolts of pain through me as I jumped to my feet. I could feel my hands shaking, and I stared at her, slack jawed. It was unprofessional, and I knew that if this had been a proper business meeting, I would have lost the respect of those around me. Here though? Such things didn’t, couldn’t, matter.

Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

“You can’t do that. A man’s coach, his horses? That’s his livelihood.”

Sheryl gave a small snort. “For us? What money we have is what we’ll make.”

“How can—You don’t know if I can even look after them?” I shot back.

“Reeds did wake for a time.” She watched me, her gaze impassive. “He told me what you had done on the trip.”

“Those—”

“You would deny me a chance to pay my own debts in my own house?” She interrupted me.

“No, of course not.” I froze. “But those horses. That coach. It’s a man’s life? My father—”

“Isn’t here.”

Our gazes met, and I could feel my heart pounding. It only became worse with what she said next.

“If you refuse this, then I would have to give you something of equal value to what you gave me. A life for a life.”

It was obvious what she meant. She would do it too. I could see it in the way she watched me, the quiet calm. The same serene silence I had seen in the eyes of that diplomat’s wife. From the way Rita glanced between us, it was obvious she didn’t quite understand the significance of this, though she could tell it was important.

“You’re too old to be divorcing to marry a younger man,” I said, my words almost monotone. “Nor would I ever make you. The deal isn’t reasonable.”

“Then do you accept my offer?” She continued that stare, the one that seemed designed to crush my will.

“I suppose I do.”

A smile crossed her face as she rose to her feet. Before I could react, she strode across the room and wrapped me in a hug. I blinked, and she patted my back, though gently enough not to hurt.

“You’ll look after them well.”

“The deal is struck,” I said, unsure what else to do.

With that, she released me and took my arm. “Come, we’ll go and see the horses. You’ll want to be on your way, yes?”

“This place is mad, so yes,” I said, without thinking, and I heard Rita let out a soft laugh. “They’ll be cared for, I promise.”

“I believe you. Now come.”

No one spoke as we moved to the stables. Each of the four horses, who I learned were Hubarrah, Sockil, Thruit, and Prancer, didn’t seem concerned as we moved between them. Each would have a story I knew, and Sheryl walked from stall to stall, carrying a bucket of oats as I picked up a brush. Time passed in silence as we cared for the horses, and then we hooked them back up to the coach.

“Are you sure?” I asked again, as I helped Rita climb into the back, despite her stare and unwillingness to share the space with the horse care supplies.

Sheryl hugged me again. “Yes. Do come back to see us? Reeds will want to check the horses, and I wish to cook for you. It’ll be a dinner like no other.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

She kissed me on the cheek, and then I climbed into the driver’s seat. With a flick of the reins, I drove off the estate and back through the streets. This time, none of The Howlers followed me, though the guards did their best to keep up. At the gate, no one stopped us from leaving, and with the sun slowly setting, I pulled back onto the dirt road and towards our next destination.

***

Though Rita had given me directions as we drove, I almost missed the gap in the trees that marked the turnoff from the main road. My grip on the reins tightened as we went from the open sky, where stars shone, to the darkness of the woods and its thick canopy. With difficulty, I shifted and pressed my hand against the lanterns that hung on either side of the coach.

Light pooled on them, enough to see, but not so much that I would feel comfortable going at any kind of speed. As it was, I pulled the horses into a slow walk, and did my best to navigate around the roots, grasses, and other things that littered the beaten dirt path. The creak of the wagon wheels filled the night air, but did nothing to mask out the other sounds around us.

Chirps and screeches of various creatures were audible even amongst the rustling of leaves and creaking of tree limbs. The last unnerved me the most, as what breeze there was shouldn’t have been strong enough for that.

Ahead of me, the horses let out an unhappy snort, and I didn’t blame them. A creeping chill was running through me and not from the cold night air. There was something wrong here. My mind flashed to the city I had called home, and its thick, well protected walls. They hadn’t been for show, and I wished now I was back behind them.

Though I knew most of the noises were from ordinary creatures, I didn’t forget the way Callahan had dropped that list of monster names. A scraping sound made me jump, and I peered around the side of the coach. Relief flooded me when I realised it was nothing more than a branch that I had gotten too close to rather than a monster. Then I heard the screech.

It was primal, angry, and my neck ached from how fast I twisted to look in that direction. While I couldn’t spot whatever had made the noise, I saw a flock of winged shapes break away from the trees. Sweat trickled down my neck, and I found myself beyond grateful my pistol sat loaded in my pocket.

When the screech didn’t sound out again, I tried to return my attention to the horses. They had startled, but thankfully, none had tried to pull away. I let out a soft, reassuring, tutting sound. As I did, a shadow appeared beside me, and I cursed. Rita laughed and leaned back on the driver’s bench. I hadn’t heard the coach door open, and I wondered if she had climbed across the roof.

“Are you alright?”

Thanks to my dry throat, I had to swallow before I could answer. “Fine. What was that?”

“The Mayor’s idiocy coming to roost.” She paused. “You should speed us up?’

“Why? What was that?” I asked, though I didn’t do as she suggested, not when visibility was this poor.

Before she could answer, the screech came again. Her ears flicked, and the sword twitched on her lap, as though she had tensed suddenly. When there wasn’t an immediate followup, she let her guard down slightly.

“Timberaine Tyrant. It shouldn’t bother with us, but I need to know something. Can you keep your head on straight if it does?” She asked, voice low and tone serious.

A pit formed in my stomach, and I did my best to inject confidence into my tone. “Yes.”

“Good. It shouldn’t…” She trailed off, and shook her head as her ears twitched again. “Never mind. Speed us up.”

The fear the sound caused in me changed my opinion, and I flicked the reins in a hope to get the horses moving a touch faster. It wasn’t as fast as Rita wanted from the look she shot me, but it was as quick as I was comfortable with. Rapid hoofbeats filled the air, and the coach rocked slightly, but we thankfully hit nothing.

Angry squawks filled the night, and then another bellow followed. Rita gripped my arm, and I turned to her. She didn’t look worried, almost excited. Her tail twitched, and she leaned in closer to me.

“You have to keep them on track, got it?”

“Got it,” I whispered back.

“Good.” She let me go. “Don’t look away from the road.”

With that, she was gone, onto the roof, her sword raised. I did my best to keep my attention on the horses, but I couldn’t help but glance around the side of the cart. Something shifted, a tree falling, maybe? But it wasn’t quite right. It appeared to be swaying as it fell, constantly getting closer.

Then I saw it step out of the trees, and whatever camouflage ability it was using to trick me fell away. No longer was it an oddly moving tree, nor was it what I had expected from Rita’s description. When she had mentioned it being a tree spirit, my mind had gone to people dressed in wooden marks, maybe with cloaks made of leaves.

This was not that.

“What the…” My words trailed off, and a tremble ran through my body.

Due to its sheer size, it moved the canopy, and the moonlight peeked through to illuminate it. The thing wasn’t humanoid, not even close. It was more like a giant lamia some bored god had made of things it found on the forest floor. A collection of twisted vines and branches trailed behind it, making up the snake tail it slithered on. Wood, rotting and stained with decaying moss, formed the monstrosities’ too thin torso. From its shoulders sprouted two bundles of branches and twigs that dragged on the ground as elongated arms.

On top of that, framed by a mane of yellow leaves, was a scarred stump, the flat side facing us. I could see axe scars covering it as the roots that once would have kept it firmly in the ground flailed around it like tentacles. A scream wanted to rip its way out of me, only held in check by the sudden understanding that making a sound would get me killed.

My fear was so great, I found I couldn’t turn away from it. Though the horses whinnied and screamed in panic, the monster’s visage enthralled me. Until a boot hit me in the back of the head.

“Drive!” Rita demanded. “Be afraid later!”

The words resonated, and I turned my attention away from the creature. My heart pounded, and sweat coated me as I flicked the reins. Yes, it was dangerous. If any of the four horses tripped and fell, it would mean disaster. However, if that thing caught us, we would die. No question.

Behind me, I could hear Rita on the roof. She was shifting with the rocking carriage, praying to the gods above to get us out of this mess. I didn’t know if it was going to help, but I didn’t blame her for trying. Sounds of rustling leaves, and another bellowing shriek sounded out. It sounded close. Too close. But I didn’t dare turn around to check.

Then there was an arm and a hand, elongated, rotting and too close. It appeared in my peripheral vision, and it appeared to be grasping for the horses. A shout, and it dropped to the floor. Rita had severed it. I could have shouted with relief, but fear was making it hard to bring in air.

“Go!” Rita roared.

We did, and the monster fell away behind us. I did my best to keep my focus on the road, though soon Rita placed a hand on my shoulder. It took effort not to flinch at her touch, and she withdrew her hand a moment later.

“You did well,” she said, her tone kind. “Better than most.”

I ignored her words. “How long until we get to Leyloon?”

“An hour, give or take. It won’t bother us again.”

When I didn’t answer, she fell silent and let me drive. It was going to be a long trip, and I fully intended to spend every moment of it productively. Because after that? There was no way I wasn’t getting paid a fortune for this job.