“What’s wrong?” Bren asks.
I half-shrug. “I’m tired.”
“Nonsense. Women have been saying that when they don’t want to talk since the beginning of time.”
I roll my eyes. “Because you’ve been around long enough to know.”
“Well, I am a bit older than I look.”
I peer at him. “Are you?”
Bren smiles, and it looks forced. “I’m just messing with you. You know half of what I say is a joke.”
I arch an eyebrow. Why would he joke about his age? Because he made a lame joke, or something else?
Or maybe I’m just overthinking everything. Like I always do.
He halts, and I see we’re at the edge of a field, the Central Keep before us. Bren gives my hand a hard squeeze before releasing me and stepping away. “See you around, Sophia.”
Then he’s gone, leaving me alone with a slight ache in my hand.
And heart.
10
Stella
We get back in the car. “Where are we going?” I ask. “The Ranger’s Inn, you called it?”
“Yes,” Eldaren says. “We might as well. From there, we can scope out the island and see if we can pinpoint the location of the gaia’s home.” He revs the engine. “Stars, what luck. I can hardly believe we’ve already discovered her. This is very fortunate news.”
We continue our drive in silence. Eldaren drives slower now—thank the stars—and after seeing nothing but the relatively unchanging greenery as the hilly roads dip up and down, we arrive at the inn.
“It looks abandoned,” I say, looking at the dilapidated building with some trepidation.
“It is,” Eldaren says. “So we should be unbothered. No one is expecting us.”
“Except that boy and the gaia,” I say.
“True,” Eldaren remarks. “And she mentioned a clan. Interesting. I wonder if she’s a member of the Shore Watch. I suppose that would make sense. They’re the largest organized society on this island.”
“They sound like a bunch of off-grid hippies,” I say dryly. “Hope they’re vegetarian, or we might be on the menu.”
“I think you’ll find anyone here is at least as civilized as the animalistic humans in Liberty,” Eldaren throws back. “Just because someone lives in a different manner from you doesn’t make them any worse.”
“It can too,” I argue, but I feel a flicker of embarrassment. He’s right. I shouldn’t judge them, especially since I didn’t know them.
Eldaren gets out of the car and inhales deeply. “Ah,” he exhales in a sigh. “Can you feel it, Stella? The earth is much healthier here than Liberty.”
“It smells greener, if that’s what you mean.”
“Yes, that is it, in part. The pollution isn’t as bad, and things are alive here.” He surveys the area with satisfaction. “I hope I shall run into some fairies. I have yet to see one. If we do, it’ll be extremely good luck.”
“Fairies?” I scoff. “They aren’t real, Eldaren. You’ve been reading too many fairy tales.”
“I suppose elves aren’t real, either,” the prince says, his voice bland. His boots crunch on gravel as he walks up to the large building. “It looks habitable,” he says. “Let’s take a look inside.”
I don’t move, staring at him, slack-jawed. Eldaren looks over his shoulder at me. “What?”
“You just used sarcasm,” I say. Wonders never cease.
Eldaren blinks. “Oh. Oh, dear.” He frowns slightly. “I suppose that means I’ve been spending too much time with humans.” He continues walking and enters the building.
I follow him inside, mulling over his previous words. Fairies, huh? If those are real, I’ll believe just about anything.
We walk into what looks like a common room of sorts. The benches, table, and counters are all coated in a thick layer of dust.
“Looks like no one has been in here for years,” I remark, my words followed by a couple of sneezes.
“It would seem,” Eldaren says. “That is good for us. I’m going to look upstairs.”
I follow him up the wooden staircase, wincing when it creaks alarmingly. “Do you think it’ll hold?” I ask nervously. “What if it’s rotten?”
“It’s fine,” Eldaren says. And it seems to be, though how it hasn’t completely rotted away is beyond me. How old is this place, anyway?
Upstairs holds a few rooms, the beds empty, the air thick with dust, silence, and secrets. I can’t help but feel a wistful sadness as I look around. “These rooms used to be full of life,” I say quietly. “The War changed so much.”
“Things had been on a downward spiral for humanity well before then,” Eldaren says. His voice lacks any expression as he peers out one of the cracked windows. “I am surprised by how little vandalism I’ve seen, however. This place doesn’t appear gutted; it simply looks abandoned.”
“Well, that’s good,” I quip. “Guess we won’t run into any cannibals, after all.”
“You have nothing to fear while I am here,” Eldaren tells me.
“Good. Then you won’t have to send me away,” I say. I plop onto a bed and instantly regret it, coughing violently. “Stars,” I wheeze as I roll off the bed. “This place needs to be aired out.”
“Excellent idea,” the prince says. “I shall leave you to it, while I scout the perimeter of this establishment.”
“I’m not a maid,” I call to his retreating figure. Still, his words make sense. I can’t scout, and I doubt Eldaren has dusted anything in his life. I look around the room and open the window first. That’ll give it somewhere to go. I then fluff the pillows and linens.
I peer outside, wondering if I’ll spot Eldaren. I don’t see any sign of him, so I turn back to the room and do my best to beat the dust out of the mattresses. I’m not sure how effective I am at it, but I sneeze repeatedly, so maybe that’s a good sign?
I move to a second room and do the same. Maybe my views are outdated by several hundred years, but it doesn’t seem proper for Eldaren and me to share
