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After four days huddled into the little reading corner of a bookshop, it was plain that the elven owner was ready to see the back of them. He answered Imogen’s questions with stiff smiles and the fewest words possible, and he’d steal nervous glances at Laudna every time her head was down. Imogen regretted all the gold she spent on the number of useless books that littered around her feet, but there wasn’t a chance he would take them back for more than a third of what she paid him.
Laudna was humming softly to herself as she thumbed through a volume of storm stories, her back against the side of Imogen’s plush chair. Most of them in scripts Imogen had never seen before, but that didn’t seem to trouble the mysterious witch of the woods. Laudna’s hood was low over her face, and she kept her skinny arms tucked tight into her patchwork cloak. Only her sharp and spindly hands were visible around the book.
Imogen knew that Laudna was used to hiding in towns. That it was safer to stay covered, but all her layers inside the warm and cozy bookshop only heightened the elven man’s suspicion of her. He glanced again and Imogen opened her mind up to listen. Dressed like a thief, bubbled up to his surface thoughts. She shut him out, and focused instead on Laudna.
Laudna’s mind was quiet where everyone else was noise. Peaceful, friendly, calm. It felt like coming home from the moment Imogen met her. Or, it felt like what home ought to be. Imogen pressed at the door of Laudna’s consciousness and felt herself welcomed in.
“I think we’d better leave before this asshole finds a reason to kick us out.” She was eager to ditch the bookshop, but Imogen wasn’t quite ready to take her things back to the little camp they’d made outside town. “I’m almost done with this book, and there’s a café down the block that will probably let us sit for a while if we get a pastry.”
Her coin purse was getting light. The savings she took from Gelvaan didn’t last near as long as she’d hoped, even with all their camping, but she wanted something nice out of this dismal little city before they hit the road again. Maybe a pastry would buoy the load of useless books she had to lug out of town.
Laudna’s thoughts coiled up in smoke and whispers, enveloping Imogen’s thoughts in her smile. “I would love that! That shop did smell good.” Laudna closed her book with a bang and sat up straight. She grinned widely at the shop owner and held up the book she’d been reading.
“Kaereth Aenin?” Laudna asked, with a long crooked finger tapping at the name on the cover. It matched the elegant golden letters on his door.
The elven man, Kaereth, scowled at her. “Yes?”
“Did you translate the celestial yourself?”
“I did.”
She smiled at him and slid the book over the counter. “You might want to have an expert proofread your work. The gap between what’s written, and your translation could contain an ocean.”
Kaereth shouted “Out!” and they ducked under his arm to run laughing from the bookshop. Imogen caught Laudna’s hand, the cold and boney fingers slotting easily between her own, and pulled her toward the café.
“You speak celestial?” she asked as she pushed the door open.
“Not a word of it!” Laudna pushed the hood a little back from her face and let the pupils of her dark eyes expand until the whites were gone, the eyes twin voids. “But I can read anything that’s written,” she whispered with that wide and lovely grin. A wink dispelled any hint of malice from those pitch-black eyes, but Imogen still ruffled the hood down to keep anyone from seeing.
That bookshop wasn’t the only place that had tired of them. They were in a minor city, the nearest one to her hometown. Imogen had always thought it was a more tolerant place, more cosmopolitan, but it turned out that was only when compared to Gelvaan.
Imogen could feel the curiosity that surrounded them when they first arrived. How it turned to suspicion and etched closer to fear with each passing day. Less than a month ago, she left home and resigned herself to this life on the road. Laudna had warned her of the stares she gathered, the fearful whispers that surrounded her.
It was one thing to know it, and quite another to live it.
Laudna lingered in doorway, savoring the smell of coffee. The whites had returned to her dark eyes, and her sharp teeth were bared in a smile. She’d hinted at years of life on the road, traveling from a continent away, always on the run. Or being run out. And still she smiled. So, Imogen smiled, too. She squeezed Laudna’s hand. “Well ain’t you clever! I knew if anyone could help me find my red storm it’d be you.”
Laudna turned away, bashful, and found a seat near a window while Imogen ordered them something to eat.
When she returned, coffee and pastries in hand, Laudna was looking over a little slip of parchment. She was pondering something fierce, and Imogen could almost feel the curiosity fizzing off her as she approached.
“Find something useful?”
Laudna shook her head. “Not at all.” She slid the paper across the table. It advertised a carnival and promised the wonder of Exandria’s Biggest Ball of Twine. “This was on the notice board at the bookshop.”
Imogen looked the flyer over. Just two days walk north, in the village of Tiorcee, was Sackville Farm’s World Famous Festival Grounds, open year round. In the center of all the boisterous font was a block print of a ball of twine. “How big you think it is?”
Laudna shrugged, baffled. “I don’t know! Why would you print a picture of twine without anything else to give it a sense of scale?”
Imogen flipped the flyer over and found a crude little map on the back, placing Sackville Farms just south of Tiorcee Hot Springs. “You ever been to a hot spring?”
“Can’t be too different from a bath, right?” Laudna’s brow wrinkled as she took back the flyer. “Do you think there was a competition?”
“For hot springs?”
“For the twine!” Her fingers twisted round and round each other. “I mean, how can they be sure? What if there’s a bigger one on the Menagerie Coast? Is there a committee devoted to the measuring of twine?”
Imogen laughed. “That seems unlikely.”
“Of course. You’re right. That would be a rather limited job. Oh! What if it’s a committee for the measurement of unusually large things?”
Imogen shrugged. “I guess there’s only one way to find out.”
Laudna’s eyes sparkled as she turned her full grin on Imogen. “You want to go?” She turned back to the flyer and folded it neatly into her pocket. “I do admit I’m a little curious. You don’t mind taking a detour from seeking out your storm?”
Imogen shook her head. The books they’d found, anyone they talked to, nothing could point her to a red storm any better than picking a direction and walking. Much the way Laudna claimed she found herself in Gelvaan.
Imogen could only guess at the number of years Laudna had let her whims and the road carry her. It seemed the woman had been everywhere, seen everything. Imogen hadn’t seen much beyond the pastures of Gelvaan.
“Who knows? Maybe we’ll find it there. I got a good feeling about headin’ north.”
---
Their pace was slow. Imogen couldn’t afford a horse and still hope to replenish their provisions in Tiorcee. But the companionship was lovely, and after they’d exhausted the easy topics of conversation (the last town’s insular nature, the frustrations of a useless bookstore, the deliciousness of that pastry), they settled into a comfortable silence.
Laudna didn’t mind walking, (“horses don’t care for me, anyway.”), but her meandering interest in their destination slowed their pace to a crawl. Imogen could still see the shrub of buildings they left in the distance when Laudna wandered off the road to collect cattails for their dinner.
“We still got plenty of food in our packs,” said Imogen, and shook a packet of candied pecans at her. At this pace, two days was looking more like four. Laudna purchased the pecans as they left town, but only ate a couple before pressing them into Imogen’s hand. (“This body doesn’t need much to keep it going.”)
“Food doesn’t last forever!” sang Laudna as she pulled cattails up by the roots. Her skirts were getting muddy as she waded further into the river, and Imogen thought she could see ice crusting around her bare ankles despite the balmy day. “It’s always better to stretch it.” She cocked her head and frowned at the road behind them.
Imogen heard hoofbeats at the same time and turned to see two horses pulling a small caravan along the road. A little wagon tailed it, pulled by a mule. She looked back to see Laudna half hidden in the rushes, her eyes wide and suspicious.
Imogen opened her mind as the procession grew near. Five distinct minds accompanied the animals. Two of them seemed to be children. She tugged at her gloves to make sure they covered her scars, put on a smile, and gave a nod to the well-dressed gentleman driving the horses as he approached.
He slowed to a stop and looked them over while his mind mulled over them: small women, young, alone on the road. “You ladies heading to Tiorcee?” He looked human, on the bigger side. His white sleeves were pushed back from meaty forearms, and his elegant dress seemed discordant with the number of scars across his knuckles.
Laudna shrunk further into the reeds, until only her eyes were visible. The man watched her, and his thoughts soured: Little spook’s got one foot in the grave.
Imogen bristled at the man’s thoughts but tried to keep it from coloring her voice. “Sure are, sir.”
He looked around, sniffed. “These roads get pretty dangerous at night. Safer to travel with a group.” His mind said they look weak.
Imogen squared her shoulders and felt electricity race into her fingers. Wondered if he’d find a bolt of lightning weak. Another voice broke out from the wagon behind.
“You’re welcome to travel with us.” A human woman hailed her. Two kids peered out from behind her, with tentative smiles on their faces. “Masters Horace and Oak said they knew the road, and they promised to keep me and my boys safe on the way to my aunt.”
The youngest, maybe four, climbed his mother’s shoulders and waved to Imogen. “She grows peppers and we’re gonna eat all of them!” His older brother nodded sagely beside him.
Rich aunt will pay a decent ransom when we get to town, thought Oak, or Horace, and Imogen glared up at the man. He smiled warmly as his thoughts picked over Imogen’s dress. These two don’t have much, but we’ll take what they got when they bed for the night. “What do you say, young miss? Do you and your girlfriend want a bit of reassurance on the road?”
Laudna crept forward, her hands wringing around cattail roots like she could strangle them. “I’m sure we’ll be alright—”
“No, Laudna. We’d be happy for the help. Thank you, sir.” Without taking her eyes off him, she spoke in Laudna’s mind. “This asshole is going to try and ransom this family and rob us. If we go with, we can probably get the jump on them and get the kids away.”
“He said girlfriend?”
“Just play along.”
Laudna nodded cautiously and gathered her shoes from the side of the road. She smiled sweetly at the man, her lips pulled away from sharp teeth. “Yes. We are very happy to have someone to watch over us.”
He shuddered and drew his hand across his chest to touch something beneath his coat, then returned a cold smile to Laudna and ushered his horses forward.
The woman brought her boys up to sit on the bench and offered them space in the wagon. Laudna took a seat with her legs dangling off the back, and Imogen found a seat among some crates further in. The wagon looked like it held a house’s worth. The boys’ minds were somber. The woman’s, determined. They were leaving a home behind.
Laudna tapped her head, then a flood of whispers sizzled through Imogen’s mind. “Why am I pretending to be your girlfriend?”
Imogen blushed. “The fella with the caravan already made a whole bunch of assumptions about us, and if we play along, he won’t be none the wiser when he finds out we’re not some pushovers.” And it was true, so she didn’t have to think about how comfortable she felt with the lie.
“Do I have to do anything special? Should I hold your hand? I’ve never had a girlfriend before…”
“If you want to.”
Laudna inched a little closer and took Imogen’s hand.
“You girls are awfully quiet,” said the mother. “Y’all heading to the hot springs in Tiorcee?”
Imogen gently squeezed Laudna’s hand. “Yes ma’am.”
She looked over the two of them with some mild curiosity and lingered a little long on Laudna for Imogen’s liking. “Nothin’ like young love. You make sure to get one of the private baths if you can. They’ve got a wonderful view of the river.”
Laudna made some strangled, hiccupy sound, and tried to hide behind her hair.
“Yes, ma’am,” said Imogen.
The kids were staring at them from the front of the wagon with eyes wide as saucers. Laudna crunched a miniscule wave, then dropped Imogen’s hand to remove the puppet from her belt.
“Would you like to see my pet rat?”
---
Travel was faster on the wagon, though Imogen found she couldn’t enjoy the company as she pondered over how to get away from the men in the caravan. It was nearing nightfall, and she still hadn’t seen the other man inside. She had no idea what she’d be fighting, or how to best it.
Laudna seemed happy, though. The boys thought her little dead rat puppet was hilarious, and the four year old, after demanding that she paint his nails like her claws, kept asking her how many men she’d scared to death. His mother apologized for his antics again and again, but Laudna only thanked her for the ride and resumed explaining that she tried to avoid death, whenever possible.
There wasn’t much chance to plan their attack until they broke to make camp. Imogen started setting tent poles and connected her mind to Laudna’s. “I haven’t seen Oak’s partner. I’m starting to worry he’s some kind of wizard. Or a vampire!”
Laudna flinched so hard she nearly dropped their rope.
Oak looked over and hailed her with that easy liar’s smile. “Are you alright, miss? That rope looks heavy.”
Laudna bared her teeth at him, then turned back to the tent. “Gods, I hope it’s not a vampire.” She looked over to the boys playing chase around their wagon. Her dark eyes looked watery and sad. “I doubt my usual tricks would do anything against one.”
Imogen reached out and patted her arm. “Well, we got each other.”
“Are we still dating?” Laudna bit her lip and lowered her eyes. Her hands started tapping anxiously at her side. “Pretend dating. Sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?” whispered Imogen. They had the tent up now, and she was unrolling their bedding into the tent.
“Because I know it’s pretend, and I should have said so.” Her mind felt spikey, worried, and Imogen caught the thought beneath. Because no one could think of me that way.
Imogen swallowed a knot in her throat. They hadn’t known each other long, but she didn’t think being undead mattered much when it came packaged with the kindest soul she’d ever met.
“I don’t mind pretending.”
Laudna’s neck cracked loudly as her head fell to the side. “You don’t?”
“Sure. You don’t mind pretending to date a mind reader?” It wasn’t like Imogen was any catch herself. Her poor father couldn’t even find privacy in his own mind when her powers flared up.
“I don’t,” said Laudna. She offered a hand to help Imogen out of the tent, then wrapped her up in a blanket pulled from their pack. The sun had vanished, and a chill was setting in. Imogen hadn’t even noticed until she was sheltered from it.
Laudna didn’t seem to feel the cold, but Imogen couldn’t leave her out, with that threadbare cloak as the only thing cutting the cold. She opened her arms and wrapped Laudna into the blanket.
“I think anyone would be lucky to date you, Imogen. I don’t think being a mind reader is such a terrible thing.”
Imogen smiled at Laudna’s ear, the cold metal cuffs poking her slightly. They were like everything else about her; cold, pokey, but golden. Imogen wanted to stroke a finger gently down the metal and tangle her hands in Laudna’s hair. She settled on setting her chin on Laudna’s narrow shoulder.
“You’re too kind, Laudna.”
Laudna glanced backward, that playful charm lighting her pitch-dark eyes. “To you? Never.”
At the caravan, Oak flipped through a series of latches to open it up into a splendid little kitchen. He flipped down a little set of steps, and a goliath man leapt over all of them to land deftly on the ground. He stretched, cracked his neck, and twirled a massive axe around, pondering loudly how much wood they’d need for the night’s fire.
“He doesn’t look like a wizard,” said Imogen, though she hadn’t met enough to be sure.
Laudna pulled a small mirror from the numerous items on her belt and checked his reflection. “Not a vampire either.” Her eyes narrowed against the fading light. “Their caravan is covered in holy symbols, though. Lots of little trinkets meant to ward off evil spirits. They’re superstitious.”
“I hear we have some foraged cattails to add to tonight’s dinner?” the goliath bellowed and turned his wide smile to Laudna. He lodged his axe into a tree with a thwack, then pulled two slender knives from sheathes at his side. “I love cattails. They’ll be an excellent addition to the stir fry!”
Imogen’s eyebrows lifted. “Ah. He’s a cook.”
His cooking was a sham. Imogen’s eyes bore into the back of the goliath’s skull as he chopped and diced and fried everything to perfection, and so she saw the moment he separated the food for himself and his companion, and pulled out a small bottle to add to the rest. His thoughts called it a sleeping draught. Imogen took the food from him with a smile and knocked Laudna’s spoon from her hand.
“Can we eat by the tent?” she asked Laudna. “There’s a better view of the sunset just over here.” In her head, she pinged Laudna: “They don’t want a fight. They’re trying to drug us.”
“Should we tell the family?”
Imogen looked over at the mother, already chewing a bite. Her elder son was tearing eagerly into his bowl, and the younger stealing morsels from hers. Imogen could warn them silently, but most everyone freaked out whenever she tried to speak in their head. Everyone but Laudna. If the mother shouted, the two men would reach for their weapons, and Imogen wasn’t sure how safe it’d be slinging lightning around some terrified kids.
“We know they don’t want to hurt the family, or they won’t get their ransom. We’ll feign sleep, then fuck ‘em up when they least expect it.”
Laudna nodded and sadly spooned her hard won cattails onto the ground. She sighed, softly, and whispered a prayer over her tainted dinner. “You will be avenged.”
Imogen passed her the last of the pecans and dug through her pack to scrounge something suitable for dinner.
---
Sleep came quickly for the mother and her sons. Imogen made a showy yawn and pulled Laudna toward their tent as the sun set. Horace, the goliath, gave her an assuring and unwanted pat across her shoulders and told them not to worry their pretty heads. He and Oak would keep them safe. It took every bit of restraint to keep from unleashing hell in a storm of lightning right then..
“So how do we wanna do this?” she asked Laudna as they settled inside the tent.
“I’ll take care of it.” The usual slither of whispers that accompanied Laudna’s inner voice had grown louder, like some cacophony of spirits were pressing at her mind.
“I’m not letting you go alone.”
She shook her head. The shock of white in her hair fell loose to drag across her long nose. “No.”
Imogen shifted away from her, surprised at the tone. She’d never heard such conviction from the sweet woman before. Laudna’s lips peeled back in a sharp and anxious smile.
“Stay here. Make sure the kids are safe. I can take care of those men.” Her pale hand, near white in the moonlight, came up to tap a single finger at her temple. “Stay in here with me, Imogen. I’ll call if I need your help. I promise.” She shifted up, left the tent, and turned back only to give Imogen’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Don’t be scared.”
And then she was gone, around the caravan, seemingly enveloped into the night.
The family was asleep in their wagon, the boys curled around either side of their mother, wrapped tight beneath sweaters and quilts. Imogen sat at the edge of the tent, knife in hand, and waited for a disaster. Laudna’s mind was still connected to hers. She closed her eyes, and focused.
The whispers in Laudna’s mind had compounded to a roar of anguished voices, their cries so loud that Imogen could barely hear the familiar woman beneath. Laudna was humming to herself, some tune Imogen had never heard before, wordlessly, desperately, like she was trying to keep a hold of herself. The thoughts sharpened on the human man, Oak, and the roar of voices screamed his name.
“Oak,” spoke a voice she did not recognize. Deep and terrible, like a massive stone falling through a tomb. On the other side of the caravan, Imogen heard the man shriek in terror. It cut short with a yip, then turned to sobbing.
Laudna’s thoughts dropped away from Oak and turned to the goliath. Imogen heard him roar; “Demon! Witch!” The curses turned to a panicked cry as his axe thunked into the ground. Boots hit the hard packed earth as they ran into the woods, and their voices were drowned by the sound of their horses screaming.
Imogen stood, knife unsheathed, and went toward the caravan, but Laudna found her before she’d taken three steps and held her at arms length. Her taloned nails pricked Imogen’s skin, and some inky sludge was smeared across her face, but she was grinning. Laughing. She pressed a heavy coin purse into Imogen’s hands, the strings cut neatly. She must have taken it off the men during the fray. “We should go. They’ll want to come back for their horses.”
There was a cut in her sleeve. Dark blood welled at her arm. Imogen took off her bandanna and pressed it tight against the wound. “What did you do?”
She shrugged. “Scared them off!” She seemed delighted with herself. “Let’s see if we can get the family awake. We’ll want to be a long way out by the time Oak and Horace come to their senses.”
Imogen nodded, but as she moved toward the wagon, she could see that the family was already awake. The boys were sobbing, faces buried in their mother’s chest, and the mother stared at Laudna like she was a monster.
Imogen pointed out to the woods where Oak and Horace had fled. “Those men drugged you. They were going to kidnap you and your children.”
The woman pushed her sons together and stood in front of them. She brandished a little short sword that looked like it had never left its sheath before. Her sons scrambled lower in the wagon to hide between the crates. “I don’t know what you women are, but you’d better leave my kids alone.”
Laudna clasped her long hands together, hiding the taloned nails against her chest. “I would never hurt them. I was trying to help. We can protect you on the rest of your journey.”
The younger began to cry. He begged for his mother. The woman shook her head. “I think we’ve had enough protection.” She waited until Laudna backed toward their tent with hands held high and head bowed before lowering her sword enough to hold her son.
Imogen glared at the woman who’d been so kind earlier. She didn’t know what the woman had seen, but it didn’t change who Laudna was. “She saved you.”
“I don’t know what that creature is, or what you think it saved us from, miss. But you’re a fool to keep it around.”
The wagon left. The kids had stopped crying by the time they’d hitched their mule. The older brother sheltered the younger beneath his jacket as they rode away. Imogen concentrated on raiding the caravan before Oak and Horace could come back. Laudna putzed around the tent and listlessly gathered their things. Sleep was a long way off, if they could even manage it tonight, but maybe they could take turns at closing their eyes while riding one of Horace’s horses.
Imogen soothed her way into the larger gelding’s good graces, then freed them both from the caravan. She took her knife to the leather straps attached to the caravan to ensure they wouldn’t be chased, then smashed Horace’s axe through one of the wheels for good measure.
Imogen looked up at every snapped twig, but didn’t see a hair of Oak or Horace while she raided their supplies. She was debating taking a sack of flour when Laudna came up, silent as shadow, holding their traveling pack; the tent and bedroll neatly tucked into it.
“I didn’t mean to scare those kids.”
Their new horse whickered nervously at Laudna and she shushed him with a gentle pat to his cheek.
“Of course not, Laudna. I know you. You saved those kids some hardship by scaring the piss out of those assholes.” She swung up onto the horse’s back, then reached down a hand for Laudna. The boney woman would probably be less of a burden than the sack of flour, but she backed away.
“I should walk.”
“Faster if you ride.” The horse didn’t seem bothered by her, now that Imogen was in charge. She ran a hand down his neck. He seemed like a Huey. “Come on, Hubert’s already warmed up to you.”
Laudna took a tentative step closer, and Huey, gods bless him, didn’t make her a liar. Laudna took the offered hand and scrambled like a drunk spider until she settled in front of Imogen.
“Can you see? I’m not too tall?” Laudna was hunched over and stiff, like she could fold herself into one of the packs if she locked her muscles tight enough.
Imogen laughed and pulled her shoulders back a little. “I can see just fine, but it’s easier if you relax into me. Just mirror my movements.” She clicked her tongue, and Huey set an easy pace down the road.
They were blessed with the full light of Catha, and a well-kept road, but the silence they traveled through wasn’t easy like before. Laudna’s thoughts were loud as Imogen ever heard them, churning through that fight with the mother, the cries of those kids, the screams of horses. Imogen tried to interrupt the spiral. She reminded Laudna to stay relaxed, focus on the ride, listen to the river, look at the stars. Anything to distract her, but Laudna’s mind would always return to the face of that little boy hiding in the wagon. Hiding from her.
Imogen couldn’t take more than an hour of it, and she turned Huey off the road when she found a good little copse of trees they could hide in and maybe manage a few hours of sleep. Gods she needed sleep. And Laudna needed a break from her mind. She helped the woman down and did her best to make a little nest of leaves that would keep the ground from soaking into their clothes. It was too dark and too late to pitch the tent.
She sat, back against a tree, and opened her traveling cloak to Laudna. “We’ll stay warmer if we join our cloaks together. Probably won’t get any good sleep, but bad is better than nothing.”
Laudna shook her head. “I won’t keep you any warmer than you would be alone.”
“I don’t think that’s true, Laudna. And even if it were, I don’t want to be alone.”
Laudna sat next to her and bundled her cloak around herself and Imogen, while Imogen swathed her into her own.
“You know you can’t scare me, right?”
Laudna did not meet her eyes as she answered. “So you say.”
“You saying I’m a liar?”
Laudna shook her head.
“You don’t gotta tell me how you did it, but it doesn’t matter to me how you scared those men off. You did it to save that family, to save us a fight that might’ve got people hurt. You’re a good person, Laudna.”
“Sometimes I don’t feel like I’m a person.”
Imogen squeezed her tight. “Everybody’s a person.”
Laudna’s lip twitched at that, then pulled into something like a smile.
“Do you want to tell me how you scared them off?”
The smile faltered a bit, but her thoughts didn’t spiral. “I’d rather not, if that’s alright.”
“Of course.” Imogen crooked herself around the boney woman, shifting them both in a way that might allow some sleep.
“Sorry,” she whispered. “I know I’m not very comfortable.”
Imogen stretched her shoulders and heard a strange pop in her lower back. “Quiet, you. I haven’t been this comfortable in a decade.”
“I know that’s a lie.”
“Yeah. But we’ll be in a town soon. Get ourselves a room with a real bed. Take a soak in those springs.”
Laudna seemed to falter at that, her thoughts churning the idea of hot springs over and over, until she finally agreed. “A bed would be nice.”
They settled against each other, safely wrapped up together against the bitter cold of night. Imogen yawned. “This is fine enough for now. I got my favorite person, right here.”
“You mean that.” It came out in a whisper, like Laudna couldn’t quite believe it.
“I do.”
Laudna hummed a strange note, just to herself, but Imogen could feel the shift in her thoughts. They were brighter. Warm. And in their glow, Imogen hardly felt the cold beyond their cloaks.
---
Laudna was awake when the bright morning sun finally pried Imogen’s eyes open. She was singing something about tea to the horse, who looked like he was minutes away from bolting. Imogen stretched out of the stiff position she held against the tree and tromped over to assure Huey that he was in safe hands.
Laudna put a cup of tea in her hands. “We’ll eat on the road. I’d like to make it to this Sackville Farms place by lunch. Carnivals always have the best food.”
Imogen gulped down her tea, then stashed the cup in her pack. “It’s a carnival now?”
“Carnival, festival, any kind of ‘val is bound to have funnel cake!”
Imogen helped Laudna scramble onto Huey’s back, then got up herself. The poor fella could use some better care than they could afford him on the road, and she hoped Sackville Farms might have a decent stable she could bring him to. He didn’t seem to have any branding, and she might be able to get a bit of coin for him, before Horace or Oak could come round to claim him.
“What do you think girlfriends do on a road trip?” asked Laudna.
Imogen nearly fell off the horse. “What?” she spluttered when she regained a modicum of speech.
“Well, I don’t have any experience with girlfriends, which left me completely befuddled when we had to put up that ruse, and it had me worried about my performance.” Her hands danced around her shoulders as she picked through her thoughts. “I think that woman was suspicious of me from the moment I got on her wagon.”
Imogen bit her lip. “That wasn’t your fault, Laudna.” She was grateful that Laudna was riding in front, and unable to see how a blush had overtaken her entire head. “I, uh… I don’t have much experience with girlfriends either.”
Laudna fiddled with the dead rat on her belt, then brought Pate de Rolo up to dangle near Imogen’s face. “We got plenty experience wit’ road trips, tho, don’t we, Laudna?” she asked in Pate’s scratchy voice.
“I can imagine.” Imogen nodded patiently to Pate. “So what did you and Laudna do on road trips?”
“Petty crime!” Pate chortled at that and Laudna shook her head and sighed. “Lot’s o’ singin, too,” rasped Pate, before Laudna returned him to her belt.
“Do you know any good road songs, Imogen?”
A song popped into her mind: Black is the Color of my True Loves Hair. Imogen’s tongue stuck fast. She couldn’t sing it to Laudna, beautiful, black haired Laudna, with all the verses singing of such great devotion that she’d love the ground where on her lover goes… “Nope!” she squeaked out, then covered the lie with another. “Afraid I’m not much of a singer, Laudna.”
“That’s alright. Neither am I. But it’s an empty road. There’s few enough people to complain.” She picked up a tune, jaunty and light, soft enough that it blended with the light breeze, the rushing river, the steady beat of hooves beneath them.
Shady grove, my little love,
shady grove I know,
Shady grove, my little love,
I’m bound for shady grove
Lips as red as the bloomin' rose,
eyes of the deepest brown,
You are the darlin' of my heart
stay 'til the sun goes down.
Her voice was high and sweet, a little ragged at the edges, but it never strayed from key. Imogen had heard the song before, some ranch hands were singing it while repairing a fence, but she had never heard that verse. Imogen picked it up after the chorus to sing the little verse she knew. They ran out quickly, and started to make their own, the song falling into giggles when Laudna couldn’t think of a rhyme for purple.
They sang all down the road, and Imogen’s memory of other songs returned, until she only had one left. Imogen asked if Laudna knew Black is the Color just as the town of Tiorcee came into view, and sang for her when she didn’t. Laudna applauded her performance, and never once mentioned the redness of Imogen’s cheeks.
A big sign for Sackville Farm Peppers pointed to a little farm stand on the side of the road. Beneath it, an old wooden sign declared “Come See the Ball of Twine” in flaking letters, and a painting of the twine was barely clinging to the weather warped wood.
Laudna groaned.
“It’s alright,” said Imogen. “We’re almost there.”
“I just think there’s a fine line between mystery and obfuscation, and Sackville Farms passed it forty miles ago.”
The farm didn’t look much like a year-round fairground. Some of the outbuildings were painted a little prettier than typical, with cheery blue and yellow trim, but everyone they saw was wearing work gear. Imogen took Laudna’s arm in her own and started for the barn in the center, hoping to find someone to direct them to the fair. A gnome in dusty coveralls with a rake slung over her shoulder jogged over.
“Y’all here for the twine?”
Laudna nodded eagerly.
“Yes ma’am,” said Imogen.
She sighed and tucked a strand of straw yellow hair beneath her bandanna. “Two copper.” Her eyes flicked between them. “Each.”
Money pocketed, she swept them aside to undo the locks while Laudna pried her with questions: “Is it big for a human or big for a gnome?”
“It’s big.”
“Did you make it?”
“No.”
“Is it an ongoing process? Should we have brought any twine to contribute?”
“What?” the woman looked up at her and shrugged. “I dunno, no one has ever asked that before.”
Imogen took Laudna’s hand before she began growling in frustration. “We’ll see it soon enough,” she said in her head.
“Yes, but I was hoping for a bit of showmanship!” Laudna returned. “I think the font they used for the flyer promised a bit more pizazz than muddy overalls.”
The door swung open, the gnome took a bow, waved them inside, then vanished along with her rake.
“See, she bowed!” said Imogen.
“That’s the very least she could do.”
Laudna glared into the dimly lit barn. Imogen summoned her lights and sent them up to illuminate Exandria’s biggest ball of twine. They stood in silence for a moment, in an attempt to marvel adequately.
It was set up on a little stage in the center of the barn. And it was quite round, so there was no lie about it being a ball, even if it was a little lumpy toward the base. And it was nearly as tall as Imogen, if you discounted the bit of height the stage added to it. The twine had probably been brown at one time, but the entirety of it had gone a little grey with dust and grime.
It was in all likelihood, the biggest ball of twine in Exandria. At least, Imogen had never seen any bigger.
She let out a breath as Laudna stared on, unsure how to break the sanctity of this moment. “Well, it is pretty big,” she said quietly.
“It’s cord,” said Laudna.
“What?”
Laudna stepped onto the platform and measured the twine against her nail. “Imogen, this is cord. It’s not twine.”
It didn’t look too different from the twine she used baling hay at Faramore’s. “What’s it matter?”
Laudna’s nose screwed up in annoyance. “Well usually it would matter very little, but cord is slightly thicker, and this amount of it would certainly makes a difference in the overall volume of the thing. Honestly it makes me question the authenticity if they’re calling it twine but using cord.”
Imogen schooled her features, trying not to laugh. “Maybe they just think it sounds better. Biggest ball of cord just doesn’t have the same ring to it—AH!”
Laudna plunged a nail through the surface of the ball and the whole thing wobbled on its base. Imogen sent out a telekinetic hand to bolster it and keep it from rolling off while Laudna wriggled her finger around in it.
“The hell are you doing?” she hissed.
Laudna ignored her. “There’s a different texture beneath the cord.” She pulled away and wormed her little finger in to pry at it. “Imogen! It’s rope! This whole thing is a hoax!”
Imogen pulled her off the ball of twine/cord/rope. “It’s alright, Laudna.”
“I’m going to demand our money back.”
“It was just four copper.”
“Four copper for a sham! That was good money, Imogen! We didn’t give them fake money, and they shouldn’t give us fake twine!”
The gnome returned with an even longer rake that held a sturdy hook at the other end. “Oh, uh… I didn’t realize you didn’t need the lights.” She pointed vaguely at Imogen’s crackling lightning that flickered above them, spotlighting where Imogen and Laudna stood on the twine’s stage.
“This isn’t twine,” said Laudna.
“No?”
“You knew.” Laudna pointed accusingly, and the woman backed away from that ichor-stained claw and held up her hands.
“It’s just a silly little spectacle. My granddad made it. He put on a little fair each year at harvest, but when he passed the rest of the family didn’t keep it up. We don’t have much left of the fair, and sure we sell tickets, but it’s not anything crazy. It’s just a ball of twine.”
“It’s rope. And cord.”
The woman put another hand around the long rake and glanced up at the crackling lightning above them. “Listen, I don’t mean to tell y’all your business, but throwing around magic like that is a bit more interesting than the world’s biggest ball of twine. Or rope? I dunno, granddad never let us kids in the barn when he was working on things.”
“You didn’t know,” said Laudna. The woman shivered under her glare. “I’d like our copper back. I’m not paying for falsehoods.”
Imogen touched her arm lightly. She could see the gnome was getting nervous, and she really didn’t want to see another mob of farmers run them off the land. Twice in three weeks seemed excessive.
“Well, hold on.” The gnome hefted her rake upward. Laudna flinched. Imogen’s fingers started to flicker. The woman stretched upward, hooked the end of that pole around something in the rafters, and gave it a tug. Gears started clacking together, and all at once the shutters lifted from windows high above and sunlight poured in to light up the space.
“The twine was the main attraction, but that’s not all we’ve got left.”
The sun illuminated stacks of painted backdrops lying against the walls; scenes from the Feywild, fearsome dragons, mighty ships on gilded oceans. Costumes lay in heaps around stilts and wooden claws. An owlbear mask that would fall down to Imogen’s waist sat atop all of it, with its fangs bared in a cheerful grin.
The gears continued to clack, and somewhere in the rafters a music box began to plink away at a raucous tune while little paper knights fought a miniature owlbear in a display along the back wall. The fight slowed after a minute as the gears ground to a halt and left the place in silence.
“Yeah, it doesn’t last long, so we only charge a couple copper,” explained the woman. She climbed up a stack of barrels and pulled aside a backdrop to reveal a little game stand, with milk bottles still lined up across the back. She tossed a bag onto the ground and a few brass rings spilled out. “And we don’t do refunds, and there aren’t any prizes, but you guys can play some ring toss if you want.”
Laudna nodded, her hands clasped together in delight. “I want.” She twirled a ring around her finger, then sent it toward the bottle, where it clattered against the edge and dropped to the wood below. “Fuck.”
“Thank you,” said Imogen, and she slipped another few copper into the woman’s palm. They’d got the money off those men who’d have robbed them, and it seemed right to spend it on a potential friend.
“You ladies have a place to stay in town?”
“We’ll find one,” said Laudna as she landed a ring neatly around a bottle.
“It’s the off season at the hot springs. There’s a nice hotel built over them, with a good view of the river. You’ll probably find a room for cheap if you say Emily Sackville sent you.”
Imogen smiled and shook Emily’s hand. “Imogen Temult. This is Laudna.”
“Thanks for visiting Sackville Farms, missus Temults. Enjoy your stay in Tiorcee.”
She was gone before Imogen could grasp the plural that Emily assigned them. And bless it, Imogen didn’t hate that at all. Being wrapped up like that, coupled with that beautiful woman who was currently cursing a blue streak as her last ring flew wide of the stand and got lost somewhere in the dusty costumes.
Imogen shook herself out of her haze and plucked the ring up with her telekinesis, then sent it over to Laudna.
“I didn’t realize you were so adept at pretending,” said Laudna as she took the ring from the air.
“What’s that now?”
“I thought we dropped the ruse miles ago, but that woman thought we were a couple. How funny.”
Imogen laughed sheepishly and pushed her hair back from her forehead. “Yeah. funny.” She took the rings from Laudna and tossed them haphazardly, missing shot after shot and cursing through Laudna’s soft encouragements. She dropped the bag on the ground and lined up the last ring. “What do you think about seeing some hot springs?”
“Do you think we’ll find your red storm there?”
“Tired of chasin’ storms,” she huffed, and nudged the ring she tossed with a touch of telekinesis to drop it over the bottleneck. “It’d be nice to get some rest. I’m kinda sore from the journey.”
Laudna crooked her head. “I think I have some tonic for joint pain in my pack… I’m happy to share.”
“The heat is supposed to be good for that, too.” She smiled. “If you’re worried about the cost, let’s just say Horace paid for it when he thought he could extort us.”
Laudna laughed. “You’re right. And you want to go.”
“I do.”
Laudna shrugged. Smiled. “Then we’ll go.”
---
They had their choice of rooms at the inn, and the Sackville name bought them an extra night for free! Imogen was eager to unwind in the hot springs beneath the inn, but Laudna insisted on unloading their packs, then finding a home for Huey, then dinner… she was halfway through suggesting desert when Imogen got up to go without her. She wasn’t gonna press Laudna into anything, but Laudna dropped the desert menu and chased her down the stone stairs and into the caverns below.
A young teifling man met them with a towel and a list of amenities, then lead them through the caverns when Imogen paid for a private bath. Most of it looked natural, but some seemed shaped by magic, disparate rock grown together into shelves and benches and little hooks to hold their clothes. They were lead past larger pools in the interior of the cavern and out to the edge of the cliff where private baths were sectioned off. The teifling unlocked a wide door made of woven rushes, and opened it to a steaming pool that flowed gently over the side of the cliff and splashed down to the river far below. He nodded, spoke softly that they had the hour to themselves, then left.
Imogen disrobed down to her skivvies and slipped into the water. The heat was intense, almost too much, then it settled deep into her muscles. She sighed and sat down on a rock bench beneath the surface and ran her toes over the smooth pebbles that made up the floor.
Laudna sat at the edge of the pool, tucked her legs beneath her, and looked out across the river to the glinting lights of a small town on the other side. The sun was setting, and the hillside was near black against a purple sky.
“It is lovely. I’m glad we came.”
Imogen dipped her head back, let her hair soak up the heat and came up again. Laudna was still in her clothes, although she leave her cloak in a neat bundle by the door.
“Aren’t you getting in?”
“I wanted to swim but…” She huffed a sad little laugh and made a sad little joke. “I’m afraid with that heat I’d just melt away. I wouldn’t want you swimming in old dead woman stew.”
Imogen frowned at that. “No. Really?” She’d never seen Laudna bathe before. And suddenly it struck her: all that hesitation. Laudna always woke first. Always did her washing up while Imogen slept. “I’m sorry, Laudna, you didn’t have to come…”
“No. I wanted--” Laudna huffed again, tried again with a little more honesty this time. “We’ve done a lot of pretending lately. And I… It’s easier to pretend I’m…” she hesitated over the word, and Imogen heard human, real, a person churn through Laudna’s head before she settled on “Alive. When I’m all dressed up.”
Imogen’s heart hitched up to her throat. She reached out from the water, touched her leg when Laudna didn’t pull away. “That wasn’t part of the pretending for me. You don’t need to pretend to be someone you’re not. You’re living plenty. More than the folks I knew back home, if I’m honest.”
A timid smile pulled at her lips. She would not meet her eyes.
“I could look away if you like. While you’re getting in the water?”
Laudna nodded, and Imogen swam to the other side of the pool. She floated at the edge overhanging the river, eyes trained on the lights from the opposite shore. The gentle current of the spring shifted as Laudna’s slight form slipped below the water. Imogen didn’t look until Laudna was at her side, fingers hooked at the edge of the pool. She was nearly submerged, just nose and eyes above the water, and her dark hair floated out behind her like tendrils. She looked like a rusalka, come to pull her down to the rocks below and tickle her until she drowned.
Imogen giggled and poked Laudna gently in the forehead. “You can come up a little, darlin’. I’ve seen your chin before.”
Laudna came up grinning, and the clear water of the pool ran out from her sharp teeth. “Just acclimating to the heat.”
“Oh? Lemme help.” Imogen dipped low in the water, sucked some in, then shot it through her teeth like a bolt and hit Laudna square on the head. Laudna splashed at her, laughing, and fell back into the water.
She came back up with her ear cuffs tangled in her hair, struggling something fierce. Imogen went to help. Laudna backed further away in the little closed in pool, bumped into the submerged bench and fell against it. She looked long at Imogen, spindly fingers tangled up in gold chain and black hair, then sighed. “Well, if we’re not pretending.”
She turned and took her hands away from her hair, and let Imogen see her ears. The flesh was ragged, carved into points, but small. Human.
Imogen didn’t know she was human. That they both were… it felt important, somehow. They were so similar.
Laudna watched her, features schooled, waiting for a flinch, some sign of disgust, but Imogen only drew nearer and concentrated on detangling the cuff from her hair.
“They were cut.” Laudna spoke mechanically, like she was reading the words from somewhere in the middle distance. “Before I died.” Her voice broke, but she kept staring straight ahead. “I know they’re ugly.”
Imogen placed one cuff at the edge of the pool and went to work on the next. “What they did to you was ugly, Laudna. You are not ugly.” She set the other down and brushed Laudna’s dark hair away from her beautiful face. “You could never be ugly.”
Laudna sat on the bench in the water. Black gathered at the corners of her eyes. Tears, inky and strange, but the steam of the bath carried them away before they could fall and stain her cheeks. She seemed to chew on the words, understanding but unwilling to accept them and Imogen let her chew. Finally, Laudna met her eyes, having settled on something. “Do you want to know how I died?”
Imogen nodded and sat down beside her. Didn’t feel right to lie. Didn’t feel right to press it, neither. “Only if you want to tell me.” Laudna’s hands beneath the water were still slightly cool, and when Imogen reached for them, she laced her boney fingers through Imogen’s lightning scarred ones.
Laudna didn’t meet her eyes. She stared straight ahead, but Imogen could feel the yes sounding in her mind. “I’ve never told anyone before. Never had anyone to tell.” She squeezed lightly on Imogen’s hand. A miniscule smile tugged at her lips. “It started with an invitation to a castle…”