A Court of Broken Worlds (Book 3)

Twenty-Seven

    For a moment, Eira stood there.

    And it hit her then. How different her life was now than it had been three weeks ago—two days ago even, when they had ventured through the courts unfalteringly. Now she stood in a glittering city under the moonlight...free...in most ways as she listened to the music drifting up from the city. Free in most aspects as she stared at the first store she'd ever actually been to on her own accord—no orders, no medicine given to her by the Flame. Gods, even just a three months ago she had been in Vallahan, posing as a flirtatious courtier in order to get information about a possible coup being staged against their ruler.

    It was her own fatal flaw, why she was so bad at the more social interactions she'd had so far. She was a spy, she was the head of the Flame's operations. And...she wasn't used it.

In truth, Eira Cesair was just bad at being herself. She had spent so long playing a part, conforming to a certain role that she hadn't a clue of who she was on the inside. She didn't know who she was because she had never had the chance to figure it out. Or perhaps she was just no one—rather a mix of the people she had become, the roles she'd donned.

She stood, leaned against a wall looking at the brick building, using her magic to call on the darkness, the shadows that seemed eager to obey. She was visible, yes, but she would not be spotted unless someone was looking for her.

    She found herself wondering when this merry dream might end, when the past might come knocking on Velaris's doorstep.

At that particular thought...Eira found herself wanting to enjoy it while it lasted, before Hybern came calling and the Flame inevitably came to kill them.

    And so she pushed off of the wall, willing her dark-shrouded magic back into herself, and  strolled right into that apothecary with her head held high.

    She had studied the smiles on people as they'd passed, studied what people said to the store clerks and whether they thanked people or not—she had been to cities where it hadn't been customary. But here everyone seemed kind.

    An older woman stood behind a white countertop, reading a book with wire-rimmed glasses hanging on her face. She appeared middle-aged by human standards, but judging by the pointed ears poking out from her her curly brown hair, she'd had to have been older than that.

    The woman smiled, "Hello there."

    "Hello." Eira replied in turn, walking over to the desk where the woman stood setting down her book. She stopped when she stood in front of the woman. "I'm looking for..." what was she looking for? She'd never learned the name of the tonic she took by the Flame's orders. They'd just given it to her. "Erm, a sleep tonic." Eira said unsurely.

    The woman nodded, "Do you know the name of the herb?"

    "I...don't. I'm very sorry."

    "No need to apologize, Dear." the woman grinned just slightly, turning around and waltzing out from behind the countertop. "I'd just wanted to know if there was something specific to see if we had in stock."

    Eira nodded, feeling utterly out of place in this small shop. Utterly out of place in general. The woman gestured a hand to her, a sign to follow. She did, the corset and top she still wore rustling just slightly as she turned.

    The store-clerk walked to a hallway near the back of the store, soft faelights illuminating the aisles of herbs and tonics. With a soft hum, she came to a stop in front of a shelf, littered with small bottles filled with different colored substances. Eira looked on curiously as the woman studied the shelves, "Have you ever taken a sleeping aid before?"