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17. A Shadow at the Door

  We reached the next inn before dusk. It was another gray-sided building, narrow but long, with bright green shutters lining the windows.

  The interior glowed with rustic charm. There was a crackling fireplace over on one side, with unpolished tables and chairs set with copper plates. Small black-iron lanterns flickered with welcoming heat. The air smelled like spices and freshly kindled campfires. I inhaled the fragrance with a contented sigh.

  The only person inside was a thin, pleasant-faced older woman in a wooden rocking chair. She wore a mottled apron, the same shade of salty gray as her hair, and was knitting a pair of socks. She looked up as we entered and raised one hand to her mouth.

  “Stars, you look a fright!” The chair creaked as she lurched upright.

  I was the first to speak. “The weather’s been a bit much.”

  She tottered forwards, looking us up and down. “I can tell! I’ve had the fire going for it all day, love. Not that there’s been anyone on the road.”

  “Exactly what we needed,” Teela bounded towards the crackling flames. Rainwater dripped from the wide brim of her hat. She shot the woman a hopeful grin. “No travelers, huh? Then you must have rooms available?”

  “Of course, dear. But there’s not much in the way of food, I’m afraid. I could chop some potatoes and squash, if you like?”

  I joined Teela, stretching my fingers out towards the welcome heat. “Anything you have would be lovely. We can pay, of course.”

  She tittered. “I don’t doubt it, love! Such a lovely brocade… I haven’t seen fabric like that in years. Did you bunch come from Tithe?”

  “From Fellbrook, actually. At least, I did.”

  She blinked and shook her head, as though she had misheard me.

  I undid the clasp of my sopping cloak. “Fae attacked the town a few nights ago. Everyone is alright,” I added as she turned to face me with a stricken expression. “We’re traveling to tell the Order what happened.”

  “Ashes above, Fellbrook? How terrible. But you said no one was hurt?”

  “Not… not that couldn’t be fixed.” I stared into the flames. The back of my neck prickled, as if there was a pair of distrustful copper eyes boring into it. I didn’t turn around.

  “Awful, just awful. Hopefully the road up has been pleasant enough?”

  Teela made a choking sound. I winced and spent the next several minutes recounting some of our experiences from last night. The innkeeper listened gravely while she chopped vegetables and put them into a kettle above the fire.

  “The next inn down the road’s been destroyed,” I finished. “I… ma’am, I’m not sure it’s safe for you here.”

  “Agnes, dear. Agnes Green.”

  “Agnes. I’m Brin Damelle.”

  She smoothed her apron. “Lovely to meet you. I wish I could say it was under kinder circumstances!”

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  “Me, too. But… I mean it, ma’am. Agnes. Maybe you could head for one of the towns nearby?”

  “Leave my home? What a thought. It’s always safe up here. Almost quiet, most days.”

  I opened my mouth to argue and she added, “I’ll have my next delivery in a few days. From Snowmelt, you know. They’re good people, always ready to lend a hand when there’s work to be done. They visit every week, to make sure I’m well-stocked. Perhaps I’ll ask some of the men to stay a while.”

  That seemed to settle the matter for her, and any further arguments I voiced were met with gentle but firm dismissal. By the time dinner was ready, I had given up.

  Agnes served three steaming plates, then excused herself to go and prepare the bedrooms. Renner finished his meal first. Without a word he stood, stalked towards the hallway, and disappeared behind the door our host had gone into. When Agnes reappeared, her lips were pursed and her eyes downcast. She seemed to be lost in thought. I wondered if Renner had somehow offended her.

  I thanked her sincerely for the meal, left a gold coin to cover the cost, then bid her and Teela a goodnight. I let out a bleary yawn as I headed down the short hallway and into one of the little bedrooms.

  Opening the door revealed a quilted bedspread, a small chest of drawers with a lit candle on top, and a washbasin nestled against one wall. Above the basin was a cracked, dust-covered mirror hanging at head-height. I squinted at my reflection, then groaned aloud.

  The face that stared back at me was not beautiful. Its gray eyes were dark and hollowed by lost sleep. Dull brown hair hung in limp, glossless tangles, framing an expression that could only be described as weary.

  I found soap scented like mint and spent a long while scrubbing my face. The basin was much too small for a proper bath, but I could at least get the worst of the dirt cleaned from my hands and face. I attended to my teeth next, then pulled off my tunic, stooped over the basin, and painstakingly lathered and wrung out every inch of my hair.

  No sooner had I finished pulling on my nightgown than there was a gentle knock at the door. Rivulets of cool water slid down my back as I opened it, candle in hand.

  Agnes stood in the hallway, wringing her hands.

  “Is everything alright?” I stifled a yawn.

  “Yes, dear, not to fret. I only wanted… well…” she leaned forwards, peering past me. “Love, I don’t mean to intrude, but… are you alright?”

  Am I alright? I repeated the question in my mind, staring at her. Well… no, not really, but I don’t think there’s much she can do to help.

  “I’m… I’m as well as can be expected, I suppose.” I managed a weak smile. “The past few days have been difficult.”

  “Oh, of course, dear. I didn’t mean… I wasn’t speaking of the Fae, actually.” Her gaze darted past me again, sweeping over the room. The candle flickered.

  “The man you were with,” she said slowly, “He gave me this.” One hand delved into her apron pocket and came out in a fist. Gnarled fingers unfurled, revealing a dozen silver coins. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Said to wake him if you left.”

  I blinked down, unsure of how to answer and reeling a bit. I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s not like he’s hiding his suspicions. He probably thinks I’m just waiting for a chance to run off.

  Agnes tucked the coins away, peering up at me. Dim light creased her face with solemn, dark lines. “I had a husband, once. We were happily married, but I know what some men can be like.”

  “I… I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you, dear. I… that is, if you’d like to get away, I may know someone who can help.”

  “Help? What do you mean?”

  She hesitated. “Well… I just hate to see a nice young woman who thinks she doesn’t have any way out, is all. If you want to tell me what’s going on…”

  If I hadn’t been so exhausted, I might have laughed. How am I supposed to answer that? ‘No need to worry, ma’am, Renner is sort of keeping me hostage but it’s only because he’s convinced I’m evil. I’m not, though. Promise!’

  She reached out, resting one warm hand on my shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it, love?”

  I wracked my mind for a way to assuage her concerns. And then my heart nearly stopped.

  Agnes Green’s shadow was… wrong. It loomed motionless on the wall behind her, silhouetted in flickering candlelight. Its arms hung suspended, like those of a limp marionette.

  My jaw dropped. A moment later, the shape corrected itself; one dangling arm snapped up, reaching for my shoulder. I jerked back.

  “Love?” Her voice, soft with concern, dragged my attention away from the sight.

  “I… I…” My eyes flicked to the wall. Normal. Just a shadow, wavering in the candlelight. I drew a deep breath and leaned against the doorframe, shaking my head. I’m imagining things. I’m exhausted, and my eyes are playing tricks on me. That couldn’t have been real. “I think I need to lie down.”

  “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “It’s alright. You didn’t. I’m just… very tired.”

  She looked entirely unconvinced.

  “Renner isn’t… that is, he’s not… um, so bad.” Well done. Very eloquent. I swallowed and offered another weak smile. “There’s… there’s really no need for you to worry.”

  The skeptical look did not abate. In fact, for a moment I almost thought she looked almost… disappointed.

  That can't be right. I’m exhausted. I'm seeing things.

  She bid me a mollified goodnight. I peered after as she went back down the hallway, my eyes fixed on the wall beside her. Her shadow acted as a shadow would. I closed the door and went to bed with another disbelieving shake of my head.

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