A Girl Named Calamity (Alyria 1)

Grandmother was right. It was undeniable now.

It was still hard for me to swallow, but even if I refused to believe it, that rider seemed to think I was the one who could find the seal, and that was all that mattered.

I had to get to Undaley.

After I rubbed Gallant down and changed my clothes, I looked at my map and tried to figure out where I was. I let my hair dry and munched on some jerky. I’d refused to eat in the forest as I would have been ingesting more blood than I preferred. My stomach was still a little unsettled.

If I was right, the map said I was a short ride from Cameron City.

Gallant and I lagged the last few miles. The threat of that rider hounded my mind, but my body was too fatigued to care. The sky was darkening when we reached the boisterous town. Wooden buildings and houses sat packed together in the small green valley. The glow of torches shone throughout, in anticipation of the night while soldiers in chainmail patrolled the streets.

The large wooden sign had words scrawled on it in red paint:

YOU CAN FIND ANYTHING IN CAMERON CITY!

I wasn’t sure if that was reassuring or not.

CHAPTER THREE

EMERALDS IN A MURDEROUS GAZE

My hood was low over my eyes as I entered the city, the darkening sky helping to hide my delicate face. Fear and doubt hosted their own show inside my head and charged me for every admission.

I relaxed when I noticed no one was paying me much mind as I blended in with the caravans rolling into town.

The castle was a colossal structure on the hill above the city. It was a menacing presence with the falling sun and the crows flying around one of its turrets. Gallant’s hooves clopped while we walked down the stone street. The smell of salted meats had my stomach growling for a warm meal. Vendors were trying to sell their wares, and prostitutes stood around brothel doors heckling possible patrons.

I passed a tavern, and a crash came from within—yelling ensued. Now that I was in the city, I had no plan on how to find an escort. I imagined they would hang around in the taverns, but I was uneasy at the thought of entering any.

I came across an inn and walked Gallant into the stables. I made sure the stable boy was taking care of him before I headed inside. The innkeeper took my money, his gray eyebrows rising as he appraised me. “What trouble do you bring around here?”

I frowned. “What makes you think I bring trouble?”

“What business does a woman have alone in the city? Seems like trouble to me,” he mused.

I rolled my eyes. I couldn’t even fool an old innkeeper. Darn you, Grandmother.

“Where can I find an escort for hire?”

He stroked his short beard. “Well, I know some hang out in the Smoky Tavern across the street, but I doubt any will take you on. They don’t like to deal with disgruntled husbands.”

I pushed my annoyance aside and ignored his comment. I was living in a man’s world. It had been so in Alger, and I didn’t expect any different anywhere else.

Later on, after I ate a warm meal, I found myself standing in front of the Smoky Tavern. I heard boisterous laughter through the wooden door, and I paused with my hand on the handle, reluctance holding me back.

“They won’t bite you, deary.” The female voice came from my right, and I turned to look at a prostitute, her red lipstick as flashy as her tight dress. Her eyes were black and cloudy, the one visible sign of Midnight Oil. Another person I couldn’t fool, and she was inebriated. Great.

“Well, maybe they will . . .” She smiled mysteriously as she looked me over. My stomach dropped, but I refused to let her comment sink in. Because if I did, I’d run back to Grandmother.

I wished I could forgo finding an escort, but I wasn’t stupid enough to believe I could get across Alyria alone. There were many brigands on the roads, and it was only good luck that I hadn’t run into any on the way here.

With shaking hands, I pulled open the wooden door and instantly coughed on the smoke clouding the air. The room was dim, only lit by a few wall sconces, which I was glad for as I made my way over to a table in the corner. Heads turned my way and looked me over as I sat down.

My hood concealed my face, and I hoped the room was dark enough so that no one noticed I was a woman. The only women allowed in a tavern were of the working variety. That was never a rule I would despise because I felt like a mouse in a lion’s den.

Some men were eating, some were drunk and bellowing with laughter, and some were grabbing at the maids as they walked by.

It felt like I were at the traveling menagerie that came through Alger once a year. I was supposed to trust one of these men to take me to Undaley?