Veil of Stars: A Wild Hunt Novel, Book 17 Page 9

  We increased our pace and finally reached the main road again. There weren’t many people out and about, and what there were, I recognized as mostly Elves, with a few Fae among them. They stopped to stare at us and I realized that we were wearing clothing that didn’t fit the area. We were obviously outsiders.

  When we reached the inn, I wondered if we’d be able to communicate. I didn’t speak Elvish, but I spoke both Turneth and Nuva—the dialects of Dark and Light Fae. Though the dialects were probably different back home, given both languages had their roots in Annwn, someone should be able to understand me.

  The inn was two stories tall and stretched the length of about three of the cottages that we had passed. Stained-glass windows lined the front, beautiful and yet thick enough to protect from the winter weather. The door was ornately carved, and showed no signs of ax marks or anything indicating violence.

  We tied up the sledge outside and entered the building.

  Contrary to many inns, we didn’t immediately enter the dining hall. Instead, the setup reminded me of a hotel from back home. There was a reception counter, and behind it, a bulky man who looked midlife. He was writing on a handmade note pad—I recognized the style from being in Cernunnos’s palace many times—and when he looked up, he did a double take.

  Focusing on me, he spoke in Turneth. “May I help you?”

  I nodded. “We’re not from around here. There are three of us. We need a room and food, and some information.”

  “Two people per room, unless you care to pay for the extra bunk.”

  “We’ll pay.” I pulled out the bag of coins.

  “Then that will be one far’en, twelve qiks.”

  I handed him two coins and he counted out the change.

  “How far are we from Caer Sidi?”

  He frowned, then pointed to a map on the wall. “We’re right here,” he said, pointing to a village.

  I leaned in closer and read the name. We were in Bream. Then, he drew his finger north to a castle in the center of a mountain range. Caer Sidi. But as I scanned the map, I realized that the road we were on, the one leading east, led beyond the mountains away from the lands of Caer Arianrhod, directly toward Y’Bain. And to the south of Y’Bain, I caught sight of a welcome notation: Cernunnos’s Palace. It was farther than Caer Sidi, but the route looked safer.

  “Do you have any caravans leaving for the east?” I asked.

  He frowned. “Well, there’s one coming through that’s headed toward Thirsty Gulch. They get in tomorrow. I can book you passage on it.”

  I followed the trail on the map. Thirsty Gulch was south of Cernunnos’s Palace. “How much do they charge? And how long will it take before they reach Cernunnos’s Palace?” I pointed to the map.

  He nodded. “One far’en per person, and the journey to Thirsty Gulch takes five days by caravan unless something goes wrong, so…three days to reach the Forest Lord’s palace, thereabouts.”

  I counted the coins in my pouch. We had ten fa’rens and eight qiks left, which meant we’d have enough for the passage and for food. “You say they arrive tomorrow?”

  “Yes, in the early morning. They’ll head out around noon, after they take on new provisions. Are you interested? I can sell you tickets now.”

  “Please. And make sure we wake early.” I handed him three more far’ens and he gave me three slips of paper with printing on them that stated we had booked purchase to Thirsty Gulch on the Avoteen Caravan. After that, I gave him another six qiks and he gave us the key for our room, along with tickets to the dining hall, which was behind a thick wooden door.

  As we entered the dining hall, I felt exhausted. The trip had been dangerous and tiring and frightening, and to suddenly see a massive fireplace crackling with heat and smell the abundance of food in the air was almost more than I could handle.

  The dining hall was spacious, with the fireplace on one end, along with matching sofas. An elk head watched over the fireplace, so lifelike that it made me think of Herne. There were two paintings, one on either side of the mantel, one a rustic setting that was more landscape in nature, and the other was a depiction of what I recognized as one of the ancient battles the Fae Courts had waged.

  The seating options included several long tables with chairs around them—each one seating eight people—and then another table with a bench on either side. The counter was manned by a waitress, who took our tickets and pointed us to the buffet, which was manned by another waitress. We picked up serving trays—wooden—and dishes along the way.

  There were two entrees—stew and what looked like a casserole—and then rolls, vegetables, cheese, and fruit to choose from. The casserole was some sort of beef and potatoes option, and I selected that, then filled my plate with several rolls, a thick wedge of cheese, and an apple. Angel opted for the stew. Raven matched my own choices. We sat down near the end of the empty table, and I shivered. The cold had thoroughly penetrated, chilling me to the bone.

  I scooped up a spoonful of the casserole and closed my eyes, the savory taste of gravy making me aware of just how hungry I really was. Grateful for the protection from the storm and the food, I paused, wanting to weep. The past few days came crashing down and I sat there, staring at my dish, almost unable to move.

  “Are you all right?” Angel asked.

  I nodded, trying to get hold of my feelings. “I’m overwhelmed, I think.”

  Raven reached for my hand with her left, then took Angel’s hand in her right. Angel and I joined hands and we sat there, a triangle, connected and weary and heartsore. After a few minutes, the tears retreated and we fell to, eating like we were starved.

  The food was good and plentiful, with seconds included, and Raven and Angel and I remained silent as we ate, focusing on recharging. We were all exhausted and cold and on edge, but at least we weren’t hungry anymore. After we finished, we moved over to the massive fireplace and sat near it, warming ourselves.

  “We’re going to make it. I wonder if they’ve been looking for us,” I said.

  “Of course they are. I still wonder why Herne’s coin didn’t work.” Raven shrugged. “Do you think it’s possible that the battle between Echidna and Typhon is still going on?”

  “I can’t imagine it taking so long,” Angel said.

  “Both dragons are immortal, remember. If they’re evenly matched, even with the help of the gods and the interference of the Luminous Warriors, it could take more time than we think.” I noticed there was another map on the wall next to the fireplace. I wandered over to it. “You know, there are other lands on here besides Annwn—other realms. It looks like Annwn connects to a number of realms.”

  “Such as?” Angel asked. Both she and Raven joined me.

  “Such as…the Forgotten Kingdom—the realm of the dragons. It’s north of Annwn. Here.” I pointed to a spot at the northernmost tip of the map. “And east of the Forgotten Kingdom lies Kalevala, Raven!”

  Kalevala was the realm where the Finnish gods hearkened from. North of Kalevala was Pohjola. To the east of Kalevala was Asgard, the realm of the Norse. Below Kalevala and Asgard was a massive realm I’d never heard of—Wildemoone. Peeking out west of Annwn was Olympus.

  “What happens when you come to where one realm ends and another begins? Is it like borders? Does the world you’re in just stop and vanish?” Angel asked.

  “I don’t know, to be honest,” I said. “But I’m fairly certain all these realms are within one world. Almost like there’s a huge world over here, just like there is at home, and the ‘realms’ are actually countries within this world. Or maybe you can see the other lands but have to step through a portal to get there? Like an invisible force field?” I turned to Raven. “Have you been to Pohjola? Is it in the same realm as Kalevala?”

  She nodded. “Yes, so there’s no need to cross through a portal from Kalevala to arrive there, though you can use them as shortcuts. Teleporters, in a sense.” She paused, then said, “I think you’re right. This is all one massive world,
connected to our homeworld by portals. All different countries, on the same planet. Except for the Forgotten Kingdom, which was cut off by the same force field that also kept Typhon constrained. Now, I’ll bet you can get there by going on foot.”

  I stared at the map. Raven was right—I knew it. We were in a massive world, so to speak, that ran parallel to the one we were born in. And how many more existed?

  Raven yawned. “I’m sorry, but can we go to bed? I know it’s barely twilight, but I’m tired. It’s been a rough past few days. I need to sleep.”

  With the help of a housekeeper, I led the way to the back of the dining hall where a staircase led up to the guest rooms. We unlocked ours—room number six—and inside found three narrow but comfortable-looking beds. A fire burned brightly in the fireplace, and a plate of pastries and hand pies waited on a small table to the right. There was a bathing chamber, and I paid the girl an extra six qiks for hot water for the three of us.

  “Go ahead and bathe first,” I told Raven. “You were hurt, and you seem more tired than Angel and me.”

  After one of the maids filled the tub with hot water, then added enough cold to make it bearable, Raven climbed in the tub while Angel and I lounged on the beds. It wasn’t the most comfortable mattress in the world, but it sure beat sleeping on the ground.

  “So, three days until we can go home.” I leaned back against the headboard. “That means we’ll have been gone almost a week.”

  “Anything could have happened in that time,” Angel said.

  I nodded. “I don’t want to think about what’s going on if things went wrong. I love my home, and I can’t imagine…” I stopped myself. Visions of dragons raking the city with their fiery breath intruded. The last thing I wanted to do was carry those images into my sleep. “Let’s read to each other again,” I said.

  Angel pulled out her e-reader. “Do you want to start?”

  I nodded. “You can take a bath after Raven. I’ll go last.” And so I started in, once again immersing us in a story of another time and another place as I sought to blot out the worries stirring up a storm in the back of my mind.

  Chapter Nine

  The maid woke us early, as we had asked, and brought our clothes to us, cleaned and dried. For fifteen qiks, she had taken care of them and now they felt warm from hanging near the fire, and they were clean and even pressed.

  I wiped the sleep out of my eyes. I had slept deeper than I had in a while, and though the bed was too soft for my liking, it had gone a long ways to making me comfortable.

  We washed up, and I blessed hot water once again—it felt wonderful to be clean. Once again, it had only cost a few qiks to entice the maid to bring up basins of hot water so that we could take sponge baths. Raven opened the window—it was hard to see through the stained glass—and glanced out.

  “Holy crap, the snow’s piling up. I hope the caravan can manage it.” She motioned for me to join her. The snow was falling—fat flakes drifting to the ground, where they built into a thick carpet. It was beautiful, but also daunting.

  “I hope so too,” I muttered. “What should we do for breakfast? Eat here, or eat out of our provisions? We have most of a couple packages of cookies left and a protein bar or two.”

  “Does the caravan ticket include food?” Raven asked.

  “I don’t know. I just figured we could buy something, but I’ll run down and ask.” I dashed down the stairs and through the dining hall to the door leading into the reception area. The innkeeper was there, with a cheerful smile.

  “Can you tell me if the caravan ticket provides food, or do we need to bring our own?”

  He pulled out a thick pad of paper and flipped through till he found the page he wanted. “The Avoteen Caravan offers provisions along the way for ten qiks per day, per person, for two meals a day.” Pausing, he glanced across the counter at me. “I would caution you, they charge a pretty price. I can supply you with food for less.”

  Thirty qiks, for unknown food in an unknown amount. That was one and a half far’ens. “How much would you charge for two loaves of bread, a round of cheese, and…oh…say, three apples?” It wasn’t a feast but with the remainder of our cookies, we wouldn’t go hungry.

  “Twelve qiks, and I’ll throw in a day-old pie.” He grinned, his eyes glinting.

  “Deal. Can you package it up for us?” I handed him a far’en and he gave me back eight qiks. We still had almost half the coins the kelpie had given me.

  “Gladly. Do you want any breakfast? I’ll toss in another loaf of bread and fresh butter for free.” He leaned on the counter. “You’re one of the most pleasant-looking group of visitors we’ve had in months. Day in, day out, it’s rough and weary travelers.”

  I gave him a winsome smile, using whatever it took to get us a better deal. We had eaten all the pastries and hand pies that had been provided in our room the previous evening. “Sure, thank you.” I waited while he vanished into the dining hall and then returned with a filled burlap bag.

  “Here you go. Bread, butter, cheese, and apples. Also a pie.” He handed it to me.

  As I accepted it, I thought that—once I was Herne’s wife, and a goddess—I’d come back here and do something nice for the inn owner. “Thank you. When’s the caravan get here?”

  “It’s due in any time. It might be late due to the snow, but the Avoteen Caravan almost always makes it through unless there’s a blizzard or a flood.” He paused as the door opened and a flurry of snow blew in as a broad-shouldered man dressed in furs entered. It was hard to tell if he was human—he reminded me of Viktor, a half-ogre—but he was big and burly with a scar on his forehead and the darkest brown eyes I’d ever seen.

  He saluted the innkeeper. “Sala, well met. It’s blowing up a storm out there. My men want to load up as soon as possible. We need to head out quickly because there’s a bigger storm behind us—a real blizzard—and we don’t want to get caught in it.” The man spoke in Turneth and it was easy for me to understand him.

  The innkeeper nodded. “They can go around back. There are several crates waiting. You’ll be picking up three passengers. This is one of them—what’s your name?”

  “Ember,” I said, turning to the burly man.

  “Ember, meet Kraka, the owner of the Avoteen Caravan.”

  I nodded to him. “My friends and I are traveling to Cernunnos’s Palace. I’ll go get them. When do we leave?”

  “As soon as we pack up the freight. Get aboard now. There’s a heated carriage waiting.” He barely glanced at me, but turned back to Sala. “You should warn the village about the blizzard. Send out messengers. Nobody should be caught away from home when it comes through. I’d park and wait it out, but we have precious cargo that’s headed to Thirsty Gulch and it can’t wait.”

  I dashed upstairs. Angel and Raven were dressed and ready.

  “We need to get to the caravan. I have food for our breakfast, as well as the next few days. It’s going to be a dicey ride. There’s a blizzard coming. But the caravan owner says the coach we’ll be riding in is heated, so there’s that.”

  We gathered up our things and headed down. I approached Kraka again. “We have a sledge of firewood outside. You want us to bring it?”

  He thought for a moment, then nodded. “It can’t hurt to have some extra wood. Here, let’s get it aboard.” Turning back to Sala, he said, “Fix me a breakfast to go, would you?”

  Sala nodded, then waved at us as we followed the caravan owner out the door. “Come again when you can, ladies. Nice to meet you.”

  Outside, it was icy cold, and the wind whipping the snow in furious waves, sending it swirling in circles. I gazed up at the sky. There seemed to be no end to the flakes, and they were thick and furious in their descent.

  We led Kraka to the sledge. He stared at it a moment, then said, “Who made this?”

  “We did,” I said. “We’re lost and on our way to Cernunnos’s Palace. I’m engaged to his son.” Usually namedropping rubbed me the wrong way, but i
t might provide us with some protection on the journey. I had no idea who else was riding on the caravan, but if mentioning a god might make people more afraid to try anything, then so much the better.

  It seemed to do the trick. “His son? Isn’t his son over on Earth?”

  So Sala knew about the Wild Hunt.

  “Yes, and that’s where we’re from. This is my friend Angel, and this is Raven. We all work with the Wild Hunt.”

  “I thought you looked out of place. I’ll have my men load the wood. Do you want the rope back as well?”

  I nodded. “Yes. Thank you.”

  “Follow me, then.” Kraka led us over to a string of covered wagons and carts. We weren’t talking Little House on the Prairie, but similar in nature. The Avoteen Caravan consisted of ten wagons. Six looked to be cargo wagons, with no real covering save for tarps that were lashed down. Two, in the rear, were spartan carriages, and had the name of the caravan painted on them.

  The other two were obviously meant for passengers, and reminded me of vardo wagons—the Romani wagons you saw in old movies. They had hard outer exteriors and were painted dark blue with elaborate designs in gold, red, and green. Against the snow, they were a stark contrast. They were covered with detailed embellishments that looked like runes. There was a stepstool in front of one of them, and the door was surprisingly wide. Both carriages were each about the length of two cars, and about the width of a school bus.

  “That’s yours. The other contains a lord, his concubine, and several servants. I advise you to leave them alone when we make camp. They’re…unsavory types. Stick to yourselves, and if you have trouble, come to me,” Kraka said.

  I nodded. “Thank you.” We handed him our tickets and he took them, shooing us into the carriage.

  The interior of the carriage was lit with soft glowing lights—lightning flits that were created out of lightning. The gentle globes floated softly in the air. They wouldn’t burn down anything and the wind wouldn’t blow them out like it did lantern candles.