Blossom and the Beast (The Alder Tales Book 1) Page 10

  She had to get out while she could. She pulled the coin from her pocket and looked at it in her hand for a long while. One side with the alder leaf. One side blank.

  As she’d seen Hale do a thousand times, she tossed it in the air and slapped it against the back of her hand. When she lifted her hand away, it was blank.

  It would be up to her to change her future. The Alder Mother—if she even existed—wasn’t going to watch out for her this time. At least, that’s what Hale would have said.

  When at last it was dark enough, Blossom poked her head into the hall and found it empty. She crept toward the front door, her bare feet quiet on the carpet. Her boots felt heavy in the pillowcase tied over her shoulder, but she could move so much easier with her feet on the ground.

  When the hallway met the entryway, Blossom was still alone. But as she reached for the handle of the front door, she heard a sound. In the sitting room, the Vice Syndicate’s serviceman appeared from the shadows. Had it been Druma, she wouldn’t have worried so much. But this guard was a stranger with a lynx tattoo. She didn’t know anything about him—except that he was loyal to the Vice Syndicate.

  With a bag on her shoulder and a hand on the door, Blossom couldn’t deny her intention.

  The man with the lynx tattoo stepped forward with steady eyes, his shoulders back and low. When he reached out, Blossom stepped away from him.

  To her shock, the man grabbed the door handle and opened it for her. “Best of luck, Ms. Frane.”

  Blossom hesitated. Was it a trick? Was he testing her? She chewed her lip as she contemplated what she should do and what he was after.

  In the end, she didn’t care.

  Blossom bolted out the open door. Like those bees were still chasing her, she ran. Her lungs exploded with heat and her legs pumped hard, desperate to get away.

  The exterior lights of the house lit her way for the first few steps. Her feet pounded across the paved driveway toward the street. She rounded the curve and followed the road as it descended the slope of the mountain. Excitement and terror coursed through her veins, heightening her hearing and making her feel as if she was racing faster than ever before. Within seconds the house was out of view, hidden by the thick trees that lined the road.

  She had done it. She was out.

  On her own—for real—for the first time. No brothers to come to save her. No clan she could run back to. Blossom was on her own.

  She ran until the road intersected another before she slowed to a hurried walk. At each turn, Blossom chose the road that traveled down toward the flat ground and the heart of the city. The distant lights shone in the valley below and the entire area was cloaked in the dim orange glow of the surrounding volcanoes.

  The spectacular sight only served to further her excitement. It was so unlike anything she’d ever seen. Blossom felt the renewed surge of vigor as she jogged toward the valley.

  She didn’t begin to slow until the roads became lined with buildings—modest homes of dark, porous stone that seemed to absorb any and all light. Pyros walked along the streets in small numbers here, parents with children, teenagers in pairs or trios.

  Pieces of coarse, black stone crunched under her feet as she walked, though she found a few places the ground was slick and cool. More than once she looked down to realize she’d stepped in drying blood and had to find a patch of grass to wipe her foot on. But not even that could dim her excitement. It only added to the rush of being out and experiencing the world on her own.

  As she continued on, the buildings and the crowds grew in size. Homes turned into businesses and restaurants filled with raucous crowds and loud conversations. Without the Vice Syndicate to urge her along, Blossom could experience this new city the way she wanted to.

  She walked into the first shop of interest. Exotic fabrics with crimson, teal, and gold hung on displays covering all the walls. Racks held scented soaps and colored glass containers. Blossom’s eyes couldn’t take it all in fast enough.

  “See anything you like?”

  Blossom gasped and spun to see a man behind her. Taller than her and with a light-brown beard, he offered her a friendly smile.

  Her fears dissipated instantly. It wasn’t him. She could deal with anyone but him.

  The stranger selected a bar of pear-green soap labeled with a pink alder blossom. “What about this one? It’s not as lovely as you, but then again, nothing is.”

  A new heat crept into her cheeks. She smiled and pretended to take interest in the soaps, but her attention was on this new stranger.

  “I’m Trean. Are you new here—”

  “I’m just here to see the city for a few days. And I’m Blossom,” she replied.

  “Well, then,” he said with a crooked smile, his eyes on the soap still in his hand. “I guess it’ll have to be this one.” Without hesitation, Trean pulled a coin from his pocket and left it on the counter. Then he handed her the bar of soap. “Would you like to join me for a drink, Blossom? Pyro is famous for their strawberry wine. Would you like to try some?”

  “I’d love to,” she said in a heartbeat. Only minutes away from the manor and she’d made a friend, earned a small treasure to show her brothers, and had now been invited her to indulge in yet another new experience. Blossom couldn’t smile wide enough.

  Trean brought her back out to the street, and she already felt safer than before. Dozens of Pyros came and went from various buildings, but now she had an ally, even if it was one she barely knew. It was better than being alone in this strange city.

  “What brings you to Pyrona?” Trean asked as they walked, his deep-brown eyes trained on her.

  Blossom ran a hand through her curls and tried to look less nervous than she was. “I just wanted to get the Pyro experience. Now, I’m headed home.”

  “Where’s home for you?” Trean’s hand stroked over the ragged hairs covering his jaw. The movement rustled the thick black coat he wore, faded leather with a dog embroidered in orange on the shoulder.

  “The Alderwood, just south of the capital.” Simply telling him about her home made her plan more real. She was really going there.

  “I’ve always wanted to see the Alderwood. I’ve heard it’s beautiful. For once the rumors were true.” Trean’s hand snaked its way across the small of her back, a small motion that made her both nervous and calm.

  Blossom walked beside her new friend with a sense of awe and victory. The Vice Syndicate had made it sound like Pyrona was a death trap. Even her brothers had said it was too dangerous for her. But in the first few minutes on her own, she’d already made a friend. Her first friend outside the Terra branch, outside the Alderwood, even outside her clan.

  Everyone had underestimated her. She basked in the glory of proving them wrong.

  “You see that one there?” Trean pointed to the erupting volcano directly above them. “That’s the Yuntani Mountain. It’s been erupting for more than two centuries. It’s said that when a young woman chosen by the Alder Mother herself arrives in Pyrona, that the mountain will finally quiet. We’ve been waiting for you for a long time.”

  “I bet you say that to all the girls,” she teased him.

  Trean laughed and his face lit up with his smile. “Yes, I do. But I don’t usually mean it.”

  By the time they arrived at the dark stone restaurant a few blocks away, Blossom was laughing alongside him. He was so different than the Vice Syndicate—warm, open, funny. She was certain leaving had been one of her best decisions.

  Maybe there was something to that coin after all.

  Above the restaurant door, a sign painted in black and orange read, The Devil’s Dogs, and inside the chatter was so loud she struggled to hear her new companion over it. She would have preferred somewhere a little less rowdy, but then again, she’d wanted the Pyro experience.

  Trean found them a table in the corner where it was a little quieter but not by much. The tabletop was crafted alder wood so rough she was afraid to touch it for fear of getting some serio
us splinters. Instead of chairs, there were low squat stools. Trean claimed the far seat and leaned his back against the wall, so Blossom sank into the nearest one.

  “How long do you think it’ll take you to get home?” Trean had to shout over the din in the restaurant and lean in halfway across the table so she could hear.

  Blossom shrugged. She didn’t think she should tell him about the portal or mention the Vice Syndicate, but she didn’t have a good answer. “A few weeks, I guess.”

  “You think you’ll be all right by yourself?” Blossom’s fear surged to the surface for a moment, but it was quickly quieted again. “I mean, you could use someone to go with you. Make sure you get there safe. I could go with you, if you want.” Trean delivered his offer with shy eyes focused on the tabletop, as if he was too nervous to look at her.

  Blossom melted at his vulnerability. Like a baby rabbit too far from its burrow, she wanted nothing more than to scoop him up and take him home.

  “That would be great,” she replied just as a young Pyro man delivered two wooden cups of wine to their table. Blossom hadn’t even heard him order, but she sipped the wine and smiled. Her day was looking up already.

  “Partners?” Trean asked as he held his cup up.

  Blossom lifted hers and tapped it against his. “Partners.”

  They each tipped back their cups and drank. Blossom savored the sweet, strawberry wine and immediately understood why it was so famous.

  Trean leaned across the table, and his hand skimmed across the scarlet collar of her shirt before she jumped away in reflex. He only smiled in reply. “I don’t see a tattoo. Do you have a totem?”

  Blossom shook away her nerves and laughed at her own reaction. “No, I don’t. What’s yours?”

  Trean pulled back the collar of his jacket and revealed the word PYRO in red and black in the shape of some sort of lizard.

  Blossom pretended to be impressed, but she was relieved—at least he wasn’t a tiger or a wolf or a bear. A lizard was manageable. There was nothing he could do to harm her, even if he wanted to.

  So much for Pyros being dangerous. Blossom threw back the rest of her drink with a new sense of ease. “Were you born Pyro?” she asked her new partner.

  Trean nodded and answered, “My parents were on one of the border-patrol teams. They got caught behind one of the lava flows when I was a kid. One of the neighbors took me in. So I’m technically Pyro but I don’t have a reason to stay here. “

  Blossom saw the way his eyes grew distant and when the waiter brought them another round of drinks, he seemed grateful for the distraction. The death of his parents was more significant to Trean than he let on, but Blossom didn’t press him. She was too excited by the prospect of his company on her long journey. Having him there would settle so many of her fears on the road.

  She would be happy to get him away from Pyrona. It sounded like Trean needed to move on as much as she did.

  “Do you have a place to stay tonight?”

  Blossom shook her head. She’d planned on sleeping in a tree, but she didn’t want to tell him that.

  “You can stay with me, then. I have a little house down the hill. Then we can get started at first light.”

  Blossom’s neck-hairs prickled at the idea of going home with him. But he was harmless enough, and they could leave early in the day. They’d get that much farther from Pyrona, that much farther away from the Vice Syndicate.

  Her thoughts of escape were shattered by the angry shouts of two men on the other side of the room. One stood a full head taller than the other, but the shorter man stood chest to chest with him as if he didn’t notice. A half-second later, both men transitioned to their totems—the big one into a porcupine and the smaller one into a coyote. The yellow-grey dog dodged a spray of quills. A second later, he managed to get his jaws latched around the throat of the porcupine and crunched him in a heartbeat. Then, he dropped his kill to the floor and stood tall as he transitioned back to his human form.

  Blossom could only watch in horror. She’d seen a hundred dead animals in her life—even killed her fair share—but never before had she watched someone kill another person, in animal or human form, with so little care.

  “Don’t worry about them. It’s pretty common here. Bunch of animals.” Trean put a hand on her shoulder and shook his head in disgust. “You’ll be safe with me. I promise.”

  “You sure you don’t mind going all that way?” she asked, not wanting to reveal her reservations, but more than eager to get away from the murderer in their midst.

  Maybe Pyrona wasn’t as harmless as she thought.

  “Come on, you look pretty rattled. Let’s get out of here.” Trean deposited a few coins on the table and ushered her to the door.

  Blossom walked right past the man with the coyote totem. She couldn’t help but stare at the porcupine still slumped on the floor, blood dripping from his ear. She wondered how long it would take him to turn back into his human form, if he did at all.

  Death in totem form was a tricky thing.

  Out on the street, Blossom breathed easier. She was away from the killer in the bar and out in the open air again. She could run if she had to, but with Trean there, she hoped she wouldn’t need to.

  “I’m sorry you had to see that. That’s the worst part about this place. Everyone is so quick to prove they’re the best or the strongest. We’re supposed to protect the realm, you know? Guard the borders and run security for the Syndicates, keeping everyone safe, but we can’t even stop fighting our own.”

  “What’s your assignment?” Blossom asked as she slipped her hand around his arm.

  “I didn’t get one. Not everyone does. I was sent home, though I didn’t really have much to come back to. The Pyro branch handles protection and security, so it wasn’t too hard to find a steady job. I started working with a group that secures the roads leading in and out of the city. We make sure the shipments of food and water aren’t disturbed. It’s been rough lately with the food shortages, but we’ve been doing all right.” In the glow of the volcanic plume, Trean almost looked proud.

  “Won’t they miss you if you leave?”

  “Probably not. There are dozens of us. One guy won’t make a difference.”

  Blossom squeezed his arm. “It’ll make a difference to me.”

  Trean smiled wide and she could have sworn he stood up a little straighter as they walked down the hill. The shops and restaurants gave way to larger buildings, some as long as two or three blocks.

  “What are these?” she asked as she looked up at the metal and glass monstrosities.

  “Warehouses. Since Pyro is responsible for the realm’s security, we manufacture all the weaponry. These are all industrial facilities that make and store them before distribution.”

  “Impressive.”

  “Let me show you.” Trean stopped short at the nearest set of stairs and loped up to a heavy metal door.

  “What?”

  “My apartment is on the other side of this warehouse. We can cut through.” He grinned and held out his hand for hers. Blossom swallowed her stupid girlish fears and followed him.

  Inside, it was so much darker. None of the dim orange glow made it through the dust-covered windows. Blossom waited for her eyes to adjust, but Trean produced a beam of light from a device in his pocket.

  “This one makes curved hand blades. They’re super-lightweight steel and have a wicked-sharp edge. The curve makes it easier to slit a throat from behind.” He angled the beam of his light to show row after row of the knives, their metal blades glimmering.

  Blossom reached out to touch the nearest one, but he put his hand over hers to stop her. “They’re really sharp,” he reminded her. “Come on, my place is this way.”

  The building was so large it would have taken her several minutes to run across it at full speed. Walking, she felt as if it went on forever. The floor was solid beneath her, made of some sort of stone, but it was so covered in dirt and grime she knew her feet wer
e coated. Above her, the roof seemed so high up, taller than the tallest alder tree—save the Alder Mother, of course—but it was too dark to know for sure.

  The rows of freshly-made knives extended more than halfway across the space, only stopping where the manufacturing equipment appeared. It was all greasy metal machinery she couldn’t begin to understand, but Trean navigated through the maze of the factory with ease.

  Until he stopped short and pointed his light at the floor.

  “Where are we?” Blossom asked.

  Trean slowly moved the beam up so it pointed straight ahead. There, where she should have seen only metal machines and equipment, stood a trio of men.

  They were disheveled and scraggily, their hair and beards so unkempt as to border on disgusting. They each wore black pants and coats, though one had so much dirt on his pants they looked more brown than anything.

  “What kind of little rabbit did you get us this time?” the one to the left asked.

  Blossom narrowed her eyes in disbelief and looked to Trean. “No totem,” he told them.

  All at once, Blossom knew she’d made a terrible mistake. Not just one, but many. Over and over again she’d stifled her fears and her questions, trusting his kind smile and wounded eyes. She’d put herself in a dangerous position, and now, trapped in an enormous warehouse with four strangers, she would pay the price for those mistakes.

  In eight days, her totem could be a bear. She could defend herself without hesitation, inflict major damage, and give herself a fighting chance. But today she was nothing but a girl, outnumbered and lost in a strange city.

  But it wasn’t in her blood to give up.

  So she let them get comfortable, biting back the thumping in her ears. She let them discuss her lack of local resources and the fact that she had nowhere to stay and no money.

  “What do you think, Barsten? Think the Milton will want her?” The one on the right asked, his bright-red hair standing straight up and streaked with grime.