The innkeeper nodded and sifted through a drawer until he retrieved two mismatched keys. How he found what he needed in that mess, Vesper couldn’t fathom. Something sharp screeched and papers rustled as he jammed the cluttered drawer closed.
The man glanced between them. “I don’t care if y’all are Hollow or Fallen. Do what you want, long as you pay. We’re all doomed anyway.”
The less than cheery sentiment twisted Vesper’s gut.
Nef set down three slate. “Enough?”
The innkeeper’s hungry eyes surveyed the black diamonds like jewels as he snatched them up. He stood from the stool andswayed like he fought for consciousness before he waved them forward.
As Vesper gathered the saddlebags and followed the innkeeper down the hall, he asked, his voice strained under the weight, “What’s with the blight? That clingy red shit?” At the man’s cocked eyebrow, Vesper added, “We’re from the southern valley.”
“I heard a rumour the passage was open,” the innkeeper said, his words interrupted by a rattling cough, then he continued, “but didn’t know if I believed it. Can’t travel far on foot these days.”
Vesper’s gaze slid to Nefeli whose brows furrowed in confusion.
“So the red stuff?” she prodded.
The innkeeper cleared the phlegm from his throat. “Bloodlace. A gift from Deimos himself, they say.” He narrowed his eyes on them. “Y’all should really get a mask before you catch it. Once it's in your lungs, there’s no riddin’ it.” Vesper frowned at the innkeeper's strange diction, not typical of the north. And his words were less than comforting.
“And the tree?” Vesper pressed. He tried to alleviate the strain off his shoulder and failed.
“Been like that ever since I can remember. Started spewin’ the bloodlace a few months back. Was like some bad omen waitin’ to erupt all this time.”
“So,” Vesper said, his brows pinched, “who rules this land then?”
“Not sure. Most fled to Delmira or Tsillah. Those of us that already caught it were sent away. We live here now.”
A new dread filled Vesper’s chest. This whole situation had only gone from terrible to catastrophic and then sank to the deepest pit of the Hollow.
The innkeeper tried the first door with one of the keys, peeked inside, and slammed the door shut. “Not that one,” he muttered.
Vesper’s stomach churned. He didn’t dare ponder exactly what hid in that room, but the second was apparently satisfactory because the innkeeper creaked open the door, took a quick glance around, and handed the key to Vesper. As Vesper eyed the thin metal, he wondered how easily the blasted thing would snap inside the lock. After that creepy ass behaviour, he’d have to barricade the door tonight, too. This place gave him infinite bad feelings, and the bloodlace, as the man called it, didn’t quell the unease in his gut. What the fuck had this place been reduced to?
Vesper fished a few slate from his pocket and pressed it into the man’s palm. “Fetch a mask for each of us.”
The innkeeper balked at the order. “I don’t—”
As Vesper dropped five more into his hand, the man’s eyes widened.
“And one more thing,” Vesper said, leaning in. “Do you know someone named Kyrith? I’m looking for her.”
“No, sir,” the innkeeper said, his spine ramrod straight.
“You’re sure?” At the man’s nod, Vesper sighed and rubbed a hand across his tired eyes. He added a few slate to the man’s pile. “Ask around for me.”
The innkeeper folded into a bow before he scurried away like a rat.
“Was that necessary?” Nef asked. “We could have gotten them ourselves.”
“I don’t know about you, but I have no desire to go out there again without one. You saw that poor bloke coughing his brains out. No, thank you, I’ll pass.” He watched the innkeeper’s uneven steps as he doubled over and choked, then disappeared around the corner. “Besides, it looks like he needs it more than I do.” Vesper rolled the key between his fingers. “Ready?”
After he unlocked the door, he let Nef step inside first. The room wasn’t glamorous by any means with the small bed, clearly for one, covered in a multicoloured patchwork quilt that certainly could use a good wash, and dusty wood floors. The space was only slightly better than the tiny room he and Emmery had shared. But it wasn’t the worst he’d seen.
With a grunt Vesper let the saddlebags hit the floor. He then shut the door and leaned against it, feeling as if the walls were closing in, caging them with all their secrets and admissions. The back of Nef’s knees hit the bed and she flopped onto her back.
His mind raced as he contemplated how to handle this. How he would handle her. The dynamic had shifted between them, but before, they had always been sort of friends. Or he thought they were. Just now he wasn’t a … customer. Hands behind his back, his fingers drummed on the splintered wood.
As Nef sat up from the bed, her golden hair fell in a waterfall down her back. She patted the spot beside her. “Come sit?”