I See Faeries

~chapter five~

Lorthon

~

Lorthon was nothing like I'd anticipated. For some reason I'd been imagining something small and quaint, seeing as it was in the middle of a thick forest near the icy Hornfell Mountains. My family's manor was near a bustling town called Suld in the northeastern corner of the kingdom - but not quite the true north. It snowed in the winter in Suld, and was pleasant in the summer. Lorthon was a bit further north than Suld, but it was just as snow-free, and just as busy.

"Lorthon is the closest town to the capital in this region," Dean explained when I asked. "It's also near the Beryl Sea. There is a passage through the mountains that's only open during the summer, which the sea merchants use as a trade route with Lorthon." He guided his horse with one hand, and used the other to point toward the jagged stone behemoths that rose from the forest, to the north. The infamous Hornfell Mountains.

I tore my gaze from the ominous snow-shrouded peaks, and focused on my more immediate surroundings. Lorthon seemed like an exceptionally prosperous place. Throngs of people crowded the street, which was cast into shadow by the countless tall buildings that lined either side. Old women with rickety carts hawked embroidered scarves and shawls, and a heavyset man that stank of pig fat was selling raw meat by the pound.

It had taken us nearly half a day of riding to reach Lorthon. I couldn't speak for Dean, but I was exhausted. No one even looked twice at us as we rode into town, though; me with my torn dress and bare skin, sharing a skinny horse with a dusty, road-weary man. Dean did grab the hem of my damp cloak and pull it down over my exposed legs as best as he could, though. No sense in attracting attention, even if no one seemed to be paying any.

"Thanks," I said.

"Don't mention it," he muttered. He jerked on the reins, and the horse staggered to avoid a boy running across the street. "I'm going to take you to the market in the center of town where we can buy fresh clothes. Then we are going to check into an inn, and you are going to explain what exactly has happened since you disappeared." He sounded almost angry, and I decided not to argue. I would figure out how much I wanted to tell him later. Right now, fresh clothes sounded heavenly. And a bath. I never did get to bathe at the Goosefeather.

I grimaced, and pushed all thoughts of that accursed place from my mind. Roman and Sheba were fine. They were probably coming after me right now, and the best thing I could do was take care of myself until they arrived.

We reached the market without incident, and Dean slid gracelessly from his horse. He winced as his feet connected with cobblestone, and I frowned. I wasn't the only one hiding things; something had happened to him before we met on the road. I hadn't forgotten about the bandage on his arm, or his skinny horse. He looked like he'd been in a fight.

I pursed my lips and swallowed the questions that bubbled in my throat. We could talk later. I swung my leg over the saddle in preparation to slide to the ground.

"Let me help you," he said, extending his hands for me to take.

My eyes flickered to his bicep. "You're hurt," I said. Helping me down would put pressure on his injured arm.

Dean looked caught off-guard for a moment, like he was surprised that I'd noticed. "Oh, that's nothing," he brushed away my concern with a nonchalant wave of his hand. "I'm fine."

I narrowed my eyes. He was lying. "Well, regardless - I don't need help," I said, dismounting with only slightly more grace than he had.

Hurt darkened his eyes for a moment, but then it was gone - replaced by a slight scowl. I chose to ignore it, and started walking toward the center of the market. Dean followed, leading his horse by its worn leather halter.