Page 6 of Marked
“Did he have pointy ears?” Her gaze drifted to the top of mine, which were blunt and definitely not pointy.
“Of course not,” I said.
“Did he try to kill you with his blood?” she asked next.
“What? No.” I frowned at her. “Why would you even ask that?”
She shrugged before leaning back into the couch cushion. “I heard somewhere that’s how phaanons killed galeons during the war.”
“We’ve all heard a lot of stories about phaanons over the years. I heard they sung galeons to their deaths like sirens from those old stories. I hate to disagree with you but think you’re wrong about the phaanons.”
“Traitor.” She stared into her wine as she swirled her glass.
“They’re just rumours,” I reminded her. “And they’re baseless—stories told at night to keep young galeons in line.”
“If you say so.” She continued to examine her drink. “But I’m holding onto my dream of being rescued by a gorgeous phaanon warrior with a nine-inch schlong and you can’t change my mind.”
I threw up my hands in mock surrender. “Who am I to crush your dreams?” I paused and studied my friend’s grinning face. “Rescue you from what?”
Nala chose that moment to jump up on the couch between us, her body still damp. She flopped down on the cushion and curled up, tucking her long nose behind her legs. This was why I couldn’t have nice things. Instead, I had a thick blanket covering the couch for moments like this.
I wouldn’t change a thing.
I reached out and gave Nala a few pets before turning my attention back to Sley.
“From this mundane life,” she said, answering my earlier question. “Where the biggest excitement and mystery in my life is who raided Perga’s food stores. Again.”
I straightened from petting Nala. “Someone’s stealing?”
“Don’t look so excited.”
“But nothing happens in Perga,” I said. “Except bed hopping.”
“Well…now one of us is a thief.”
Everyone in town provided food to a collective bank in lieu of paying a tithe or tax. One of Sley’s roles in town was to collect, maintain and distribute the food in times of need. Right now, our stores should be at a healthy level. During winter, that often changed.
“So?” I nudged my friend. “Who’s stealing?”
Sley shrugged. “No idea. That’s partly why I was looking for you earlier. I just got distracted by wine, watching you work and listening to you bitch about what a shitty human Gavin is. I’m here for all of that. But I also need help tracking down the thief.”
And who better to catch a thief than a retired one?
3
After a meal and a few drinks, Sley and I made our way through Perga, the remote town made up mostly of hunters, healers, scouts and people who generally hated others, until we reached the food storage facility.
The majority of the town buildings consisted of cabins that made two concentric circles with a large fire pit in the centre for social gatherings. The main road from Wast split the circle in half. My cabin was situated beyond the outer circle on the far side of town and sat mostly in the forest. I liked it that way. More privacy.
Most of the queen’s hunters lived in Perga. We didn’t have much time for cultivating gardens or managing livestock aside from chickens. Instead, we fished in the nearby river or hunted for our food in the field or the neighbouring forest. The money the queen paid us went toward buying or bartering for other staples and supplies like vegetables and flour.
Most of the hunters stuck to themselves. We weren’t braiding each other’s hair by the firepit each night, but I was certain most of them would drag me from a burning building.
Even Gavin.
Though he’d probably try to grope me in the process.
The storage house loomed ahead like a forgotten tomb, its once sturdy walls now worn and weathered under the weight of time and the harsh elements. We’d have to rebuild it sooner than later, but it had at least one more winter in it.