Leina barely said a word after helping me get in and out of the tub, which was not at all what I'd expected. Even without the years' old scars that littered my body, the bruising around my ribs was certainly something to be concerned about.
Yet she didn't seem to care. After scrubbing myself raw and getting as much gunk out of my hair as I could, all Leina did was wait outside until she heard my movements in the water stop before stepping back in, help me out, and then left me to get dressed.
I wondered if that was because she suspected I wasn't some mere woman that was attacked in the woods, or if she simply sensed that I wasn't overly eager of small, enclosed spaces. Maybe it was both. Either way, there was something both relieving and disturbing in the way she didn't seem to want to ask any questions.
Especially since I was confident that she'd gotten a good view of my back, where a series of scar-tissue was scattered from a single point in the middle of of my spine, like what happens when a bolt of lightning strikes the ground. That was no normal injury.
It was a conversation I'd no doubt have later with her and her father, quite possibly also with her brother as well.
Bells, I thought, leaning against the door. Thankfully, Leina had found a simple tunic and trousers to lend me, accompanied by a brown leather vest that was slightly too big around my chest. So, no more dresses.
I needed to go. There was a nyphtan out there that was ready to wreak havoc, and know one else knew. She wasn't going to be at all pleased when her ward doesn't return. I had maybe five more days before she found Igna's body. That was barely enough time to head up to the hills Igna had claimed her base to be at and confront her.
But . . . Hell, I was so, so tired.
Dinner wasn't exactly tense, but nor was it pleasant. I didn't realize just how hungry I was until the stew Leina had prepped hit my mouth, and all I could think was that I really needed to find a way to pay this family because I ate a lot more than I should in a silence as thick as it was.
Even Amly sat promptly next to me, watching me with wide, astonished eyes.
"Sorry," I managed through a brief cough, feeling much more attentive to my body's complaints now that it had the energy to remind me. I was grateful, though. Never underestimate the power of a fresh, hot meal.
"Were you caught in a slave trade?" Drael, sitting across from me with Leina on her right and Lanie on her left, asked. No sooner had the words left her mouth did Leina give her a solid kick to the shin, because the young girl nearly jumped out of her seat. "Aye!" she yelped, shooting her sister a hurt look. "I was just askin'!"
"Ya little vermin, learn to read a room, won't ya?" Leina snapped back.
Orik, who sat next to his son (which was weird, as he wasn't sitting at the head of the table, and also left four people on one side and two on the other), cleared his throat.
"Y'all were thinking it!" The girl continued to object, bending over to rub her leg. "Don't see why we can't ask."
"You're as bad as Amly," retorted Lanie. The youngest of the family let out an audible protest. I felt a pang of familiarity with her just then, myself.
"That's not fair, I'm being quiet-"
"You're gapin' at her as if ya never seen a woman-"
"Enough."
Admittedly, I had to bite my tongue to keep from smiling. Orik barely spoke louder than a whisper, but that was all he needed for his kids to stop mid-sentence. Even I felt like I'd just done something wrong. I nearly caught myself looking at him with his children, waiting to see what he'd say. I'm thirty-five years old, way past the age of feeling like a scolded kid, yet somehow that's exactly how I felt.
You really need to socialize more.
No, no I do not.
I blamed it on Amly.
Suddenly uncomfortable, I eased the bowl I had in my hands back down on the table, raising my eyes to face the strange family. After a few seconds of studying, I turned to face Orik - who in turn met my gaze.
"Look, there's no hiding that I got my ass kicked. But it wasn't by anything that should concern you or your family."
"So you weren't - hey, stop hitting me," Drael all but growled at Leina.
"Then stop talking."
"It's okay," I interceded, offering Drael a slight smile. "No, I was not in a slave trade. Nor am I princess," I added at Amly. "I'm just a simple woman that made some very reckless choices. But I do thank you for your help," I addressed Orik. "And I can pay. I was on my way back from running a job for a fellow in Canden. I-"
"No, no," Orik shook his head. "Won't be necessary."
"I'm not asking," I said just as firmly, an let the words hung from there. I wasn't sure if he wanted his two younger daughters to hear about what I really did for a living, and while none of them would figure out exactly what I was, I was certain that he and his two older children had an idea.
He sighed, looking away from me to study the two girls in question. The sun was well on its way to retire for the night, so the only lighting left was the fire they kept running in the middle of the floor.
"I think it is time for bed," he finally said. Lanie gave out a relieved sigh and was quick to stand, taking the empty bowls without caring to hear everyone else's thoughts. Amly and Drael both tried to object, but it was more of a halfhearted instinctive reaction than it was anything else. Leina didn't move, fixing her dark gaze on me before her father stood.
Next to me, Amly sighed.
"I hate bedtime," she said beneath her breath. "It's so boring."
Nonetheless, she moved to give her father a hug, slumping behind Leina as the older girl led the other two sisters to one of the doors I'd spotted earlier.
Lanie had already disappeared somewhere outside.
"You don't need to pay," Orik said once his children were out of the room. He was standing while I remained seated, and there was something strangely comforting with the way the low flames outlined his silhouette, as if they were trying to remind me that as kind and soft-spoken as this man was, he was very capable of killing someone.
It was good to be aware of that. He may not have as much blood on his hands as I did, but if the way I'd watched him with his family over the past few hours said anything, he certainly could should anything happen to them.
So I raised my chin to peer up at him, reading the shadows that flickered across his broad face. He was a father. At one point, he had been a husband. I wasn't sure what he did for a living, but he'd built a home with his own two hands and handled a bow like he knew how to use it.
"You brought a stranger to your home," I reminded, my voice coming out as grave as my thoughts. "With your children still here. Let me pay you, if at least to discourage you from ever doing such a reckless thing again."
Remind him that this time, his kindness would be rewarded. Next time, however, it could very well be punished.
He tensed his jaw at this.
"You would still be out there," he pointed out.
"And I'm grateful, truly," I assured him. "But what is the gratitude of a stranger over ensuring that your family is safe?"
"Are you threatening them?" Ah, there was that steel. I shook my head.
"I'm not. But I could very well have been someone who would. Tell me, were there any tracks around my body?"
He was silent for a moment, then decided to look away.
"Amly found ya. Said there was a naked woman sleeping in the woods. Said she was hurt." He faced me. "I knew there was somethin' off, but if it had been one of my daughters, I'd rather them not be left there if someone else could help."
"Your daughters will never be what I am." I meant it as a compliment on their end. "They will never know what I know, and neither will you. But the gods smite me if I leave tonight and don't warn you to pay attention to those that need help. You can live with a bit of guilt if it means your children don't need to find out what it means to wake up in the middle of the night to a ainkin feasting on a sibling's insides."
"So I shouldn't have helped you?" He questioned, quite near the verge of being pissed off.
Finally, I decided to stand, my legs still shaking slightly beneath my weight.
"I am a bounty hunter," I stressed. "You saw the scars. Surely you knew I fight things that go bump in the night. But there's bounty hunters of every race. Every species, all with their own names. I could have very well been a wolf in sheep's clothing, and you wouldn't have known until it was too late."
This time, he glared at me, his eyes boring down into my very soul before he finally snapped.
"You wouldn't have gotten past the door."
Something about the way he said it made me pause. This wasn't one of those challenges typical men made when they felt sure they could take on a threat. Sensing my confusion, Orik gestured over to the front door around the fire.
"Follow me," he gruffed.
What a strange situation. It wasn't often that I meet a person determined to help a bounty hunter. The scenario might be different if I'd just tell people the truth, but if I hated the cult I served, there was no telling who else felt the same. People may or may not give two shits about a typical bounty hunter or mercenary. Not much could be the same about those who served the Reftin Circle. I knew plenty of who I trained alongside with that met their own fate in some backwater village, strung up in the center with their insides hanging out - all because they trusted that their status would keep them safe from other human beings.
So what was going through Orik's head?
Mustering up the last bits of strength I had, I made my way around the table to follow him until he stopped in front of the door and opened it, but he made no move to go past it. Instead, he pointed at the inside of the frame.
I stiffened, noticing a few faint scratches that were a bit more than scuff marks.
"You deal in blood magic," I blurted, eyeing the bigger man - who quickly shook his head.
"Read the runes, won't you?"
Still, I didn't budge for a few more moments, unsure if I wanted to get any closer to him than I already was. Blood magic was a nasty, unpredictable business. Many made the mistake of assuming it was better than dark magic, but what they failed to realize was that while yes, the practitioner did not need to worry about outside things possessing them, the typical madness that followed suit made the point null.
You can always cast out the outsiders within your body. Not much you can do when your own blood starts turning against you.
Orik scowled. "This is auzir," he explained. "Not the magic of blood."
"Auzir?" I repeated.
"Yes. It is-"
"I know what it is," I interrupted. It had been a long time since I met someone who so much as knew what it was, much less how to read it. Finally giving in to my curiosity, I leaned forward to study the markings he had carved into the frame. Sure enough, I recognized the curved, delicate strokes, the three different shapes that resembled a brief outline of a flame, a leaf, and something that looked like a face of half human, half wolf.
"Whoa," I breathed, brushing my fingers up against the symbols. Then I shook myself, turning to face the bigger man. "They don't work. Haven't in decades."
He pinched his brow at my statement.
"Yes they do."
I shook my head. Truly, I was amazed at the detail, but he didn't know enough about auzir if he believed it still worked anymore.
"Auzir hasn't been able to be used for longer than the drunefolk care to admit. Believe me, I tried."
"Not well enough, it seems." Then, as if to prove himself, Orik moved to press his hand against the symbols-
"What are you doing?" The question was spoken in brief, harsh clips. Only, it wasn't mine. It was Orik's son's, who stood behind us with a pile of wood in his arms and all the wrath of hell itself on his face.
~ 2231 Words ~