Sure, Nyfain had suggested that I do that very thing—bargain for an escape—but the how of it was still very vague and half-formed. I struggled to believe someone as dense as Jedrek could have figured it out.
Still, that didn’t mean he hadn’t consulted with the demons in town. And if they went to the castle to ask questions, the answers would lead right back to me.
The question was, would the demons care? Their goal was to torment Nyfain. Maybe I was only relevant when I was his captive.
Then again, they knew that I was an easy way to get to him. Maybe they’d thought he’d killed me. Hearing that I was still alive and had escaped, or, worse, that he’d let me go…
Inside, my guts were twisting, but I stalked away like nothing bothered me.
“Hey.” I barged into Old Man Fortety’s house, emotions roiling.
Hannon glanced up from the couch, cookbook in hand. He’d always been able to read me, so it came as no surprise when he immediately tensed. “What is it?”
“I don’t know, maybe nothing. How is Old Man Fortety?”
“You tried to cure me, didn’t you, you rotten, good-for-nothing little heathen,” Fortety yelled out through the open bedroom door, crotchety as ever. “I’m feeling better, aren’t I? Yes, I am! You lied to me! Never trust a woman. Haven’t I always said never trust a woman? I thought you were different, Finley Mosgrove.”
I smiled in at him and then closed the door. His ranting continued.
“It worked,” I surmised, too distraught to feel happy.
“It continues to, yes, though if you were ever going to do an oops, he would’ve been the best contender for it. What happened?”
I explained what I’d seen and my worry about Jedrek.
“Or it could be absolutely nothing, and Jedrek is just spreading rumors to cover for his tiny ego,” I finished. “I really couldn’t say. But I want to ask Nyfain—”
“Yes,” Hannon said, standing. “Write a letter and go now. You can hunt tomorrow. We have enough to last us a few more days.”
I nodded and jogged out, cutting through the backyards of houses and trying to stay out of sight. The Jedrek problem might be nothing, but even if he didn’t involve the demons, he could make trouble. If he tried to force the issue, I could take him with a dagger, I was sure of it, but what if he happened upon me alone and without weapons?
I stopped at home just long enough to hastily scrawl out the letter to Nyfain and snatch up my knapsack. Once at the birch, I found the bush and pulled out the mostly empty parcel, finding only a letter from him in it. I swapped it for mine and stood, contemplating whether to read his note here or back within the safety of my house.
But my house wasn’t really safe, was it? Jedrek could barge in and force an audience any time he liked. He wouldn’t do anything, surrounded by neighbors who would come to our aid, but he could scare the kids and threaten me.
Out here, however, I could evade him. If anything, with my animal’s help, I knew I could run faster than him and his friends. I would run straight to Nyfain if I had to.
Or maybe I was overthinking this due to recent events and my fatigue.
I worked my way to the far side of the everlass field, and then climbed a tree and settled into the branches. Perhaps I was overthinking things, but safety first.
I pulled open the parchment and was surprised to see Nyfain’s handwriting was messier than usual. The lines bowed in places and the ink was smeared in a few spots, as though he were pressing too hard. The second I started reading, I knew why.
Dear Finley,
You can deliver a warning to Jedrek on my behalf. If he so much as glances at you askew, I/the dragon will rip out his throat and feast on his entrails. He will die a painful, gruesome death before disappearing from existence.
If you are troubled by him again, tell me immediately. I will handle it. This I swear to you. Say the word, and the following night will be his last. I will not tolerate him or anyone else making you feel uncomfortable, and I certainly will not allow them to harm you.
Please send me a note to reassure me (and the dragon) that you (both) are okay. In the event it is you in the pit this time—I smiled because he was talking about the book he’d read—I will bring you more weapons. I need to procure them from the royal armory, but you’ll have them by the night shift. If I don’t hear from you by then, I will break my promise and deliver them to you personally.
Please stay safe. I’m sorry you have to deal with small-dicked arsepieces. Your refusal of his ridiculous proposal should’ve been enough. I’d be happy to teach him a lesson on etiquette.