I had thought of at least a hundred things to say by the time we reached the inn.

  None of them seemed quite right.

  It needed to be in private, of course. I couldn’t very well speak freely in front of Ward, Terrence, and Josiah. Either they would think I was mad or, if Agnes did admit to some wrongdoing, they might bare steel against her. I didn’t think Terrence had it in him to hurt someone, much less an old woman, and Josiah seemed like the very definition of ‘level-headed,’ but I wasn’t so sure about Ward. He had been on-edge ever since we’d found the birdcage. His hand had never left his swordhilt.

  So. Get her alone. Shouldn’t be too difficult. And then… what?

  I could tell her that I know something’s going on. Her shadow moved, the same as Gil’s, and… what was it she said? ‘I may know someone who can help.’

  Did she mean the hag? Did she want me to try and make a bargain with it?

  Why?

  I could have chased the thought in circles for days. The simple truth was that I had too little information about this whole situation to really understand anything of what her motives, or the monster’s, could be.

  But it was a strange thing to say. And then there’s her shadow, and how she sent us straight to Gil… she’s definitely involved in all of this.

  She seemed so kind. Maybe she’s like Gil; maybe she’s frightened and has no idea what to do. There’s a monster roaming around her home at night and there’s no one here to help her.

  I could show her a rune. I think I could manage it. It’s been hours since the last one. It might be worth a try. Show her some magic, tell her that I can help and that I won’t tell anyone about her pact if she just points me in the right direction.

  It’s not much of a plan. But it’s the best I’ve got.

  I found myself trembling in nervous anticipation as we approached the inn door. There was pale golden light visible from beyond the windows. The sky above us was shaded like a bruised plum and clouded by steely gray. The chill had returned to the air, too, and we were all huddled beneath our cloaks.

  “Ashes, it’s about time!” Ward practically lunged for the door and yanked it open. “I swear, lady, if you’d kept us out past sundown…” he cast a dark look over his shoulder.

  “Ward.” Josiah stretched out his corded arms and pushed the much smaller man inside. He followed him in.

  Terrence ducked his head sheepishly. “We’re not all like him, y’know,” he mumbled, holding the door open for me. “Most folks in town are decent.”

  “I believe you.” I managed a vague smile. “I can’t fault him for being upset. I’m surprised you’re handling all this so well, honestly.”

  He flushed pink. “Who, me? Nah. Monsters, creepy piles of dead birds… all, er, in a day’s work.” Terrence chuckled, though there was little humor in it. His shoulders sagged. “We’ll find Teela. We will. I’ll be up first thing, right behind you. I’m… I’m really sorry we didn’t find anything today.”

  I couldn’t seem to form a response. I reached out and squeezed one of his bony shoulders gently. He offered another weak smile as we walked inside.

  The building’s interior was lit by a crackling fireplace and a few flickering lanterns. Josiah and Ward had moved near the fireplace, where Agnes sat in her wooden rocking chair. Josiah was speaking to her in his low rumble, too quietly for me to overhear.

  The old woman’s brown eyes lit up upon seeing me. She rose, brushing the men away, and tottered forwards.

  “Why, it’s lovely to see you again, dear!” She stretched her thin arms out and clasped my hands with her own.

  I found myself searching her face intently. My heart was beating wildly.

  But there was nothing. No cruel glint to her eyes, no sinister curve to her lips. Just warmth.

  “In fresh from the cold, all four of you. Why, and is that Terrence Black? Heathan’s son? I haven’t seen you in years!” She swept towards the young man and pinched his cheeks.

  Terrence turned pink again. “Hi, Miss Agnes. It’s nice to see you again.”

  Movement from near the hallway caught my eye. I looked over and started. The brazen barmaid, the one who’d been in Renner’s bed, was trouncing out from the kitchen. I blinked, chasing away the sudden image of her flushed cheeks and rumpled dress and the little giggle she’d given when he-

  Ugh. Stop. Wait. Why is she here?

  My question was answered a breath later when a short, stout man came strolling after her. He announced in a reedy voice, “All set, Miss Agnes. Should last you through another tenday.” He gave a breathy chuckle. “More, if you don’t like your patrons very much.”

  Agnes tittered. “I’m many things, Thom, but a poor hostess is not one of them.” She turned back towards me after giving Terrence’s tawny, twig-strewn hair a ruffle. “Love, can I fix you some supper? Just had some fresh oats delivered. And pumpkin, Thom? And tea?”

  The short man threw himself into a chair and sighed dramatically. “Yes, Miss Agnes. And more wine, and that mash from the miller you always say you like.”

  She beamed at him. “Bless you. Brin, Terrence, supper? And you boys, too?” She looked politely towards Ward and Josiah.

  They exchanged glances and nodded.

  Terrence grinned and settled into a seat near the fireplace. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Bony fingers tapped against my own, making me jump. I tore my eyes away from the barmaid- who was also standing very still, and watching me through her lashes- and looked at Agnes. “Oh. Y-yes. Thank you.”

  “Excellent. Settle in, you lot. Aveline, come and help me in the kitchen, would you? Food first, and then you four can tell me why you’re out and about at this hour.”

  The dark-haired young woman tossed her hair and flounced towards the kitchen without a word. I watched her go, my brow furrowing.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  I suppose Agnes did say she’s due for another delivery of goods. So now there’s… seven people here? That’s… good, right? In case a monster shows up, or in case… I don’t know, it’s not as though I suspect Agnes is going to do anything. Even if she is mixed up in all this. But having more people around is a good thing.

  I cleared my throat and stepped forwards. “Actually, ma’am, maybe, ah, Aveline could take a break? I’d love to help you cook.”

  Her gray eyebrows lifted. “Oh? I don’t usually make my guests work, dear. This is a place of rest.”

  My face grew warm. “Please? I… I’m not much of a cook, but I enjoy it, and I never get the chance anymore…”

  It wasn’t really the truth, but it wasn’t completely a lie. I didn’t like cooking, exactly, but I certainly enjoyed flavoring things.

  Maybe that’s the rune I can show her. ‘I’m blessed, I can help you, look, I can make this potato taste like an apple tart.’ I bit down on a tiny grin.

  She searched my face, frowning ever so slightly. “Well, dear, I suppose I can always use an extra pair of hands. Come along, then.”

  I followed her into the back room, which was small but tidy. There were three countertops set with carving knives, mixing spoons, wooden boards, and copper kettles. Aveline was leaning against a counter and absently braiding some strands of her curly hair.

  Agnes waved her away. “Go have a rest, sweet girl. Keep the boys company, why don’t you?”

  Large, dark eyes met mine, then flicked away. “Are you sure, Miss Agnes?” Her voice was quiet.

  The older woman shooed her again. “Yes, dear, of course! Off you trot.”

  Aveline stared at me for a moment, then sniffed and slipped back towards the common room.

  The little kitchen had a small pantry lined with wooden shelves jutting out from one side. I smelled spices and herbs and earth from within. Agnes tottered into the pantry and spent a few minutes retrieving vegetables and tiny clay pots. She placed a bright, round pumpkin onto one of the boards and handed me a large knife.

  “Start chopping, dear, if you don’t mind. It’s hard on my arms. Worth it, though! I make a mean pumpkin soup.”

  “I believe you,” I said honestly. Our meal the other night had been very tasty.

  She retrieved a small stone mortar and pestle, then set them beside jar. When she opened the lid something brown spilled out into the mortar. I smelled ginger and cinnamon, alongside something vaguely savory. She began humming as she ground the spice.

  I licked my lips and began slicing away at the pumpkin. I’d gotten her alone, but I really had no idea how to start this conversation.

  Finally I found my voice. “Ma’am… I was hoping to speak with you. About… about something important.”

  She paused in her humming. “Oh? What’s on your mind, love?”

  “Well… I don’t know if you heard, but one of my friends has gone missing. Teela, the young woman who was with me the other night.”

  She tutted. “Oh, Thom and Aveline mentioned it. They said the good captain had all sorts of search parties headed out to try and find her.” She flashed me a sad look. “I’m so sorry to hear it, love. You must be terribly worried.”

  “I am. Very much so. I… it got me thinking… about what you said the other night.” I shifted from foot to foot, watching her from the corner of my eyes. “About… how you knew someone who could help.”

  She froze for a moment, lips pursed, then resumed grinding. “Oh? I’m sorry if you misunderstood, dear. I meant the Watch. Captain Rell and his men. Snowmelt’s guards are a fine bunch, you know.”

  My fingers tightened around the knife hilt. She’s lying. I know she’s lying. She practically whispered it to me the other night, like it was some grave secret she didn’t want overheard. She was not talking about the Watch.

  She gave another little hum. “Were you close?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “With the young lady. Teela.”

  I sliced another wedge of orange flesh. “Close enough. I’m… I’m going to find her.”

  She cast another grim smile in my direction. “Oh, love, if it really is a Fae, what hope is there? Better to carry on, I say.”

  I swallowed. “You can’t mean that.”

  “I do, though. It’s very sad, dear, but sometimes we lose people. Even those closest to us.” Her eyes flickered with something unrecognizable, and her shadow flickered on the wall behind her.

  I watched it closely. Waiting. Sure enough, after a moment the arms started to shiver and twist out of time with her grinding. I clenched my teeth together.

  “What happened to your husband?” I blurted without thinking.

  She paused. Then she carefully set the pestle down and smoothed her gnarled hands down the front of her apron. “He got sick, dear. About… ten years ago? Feels like less, some days. And then longer, others. It’s funny. I still miss him every day.”

  I stared at her shadow, transfixed and horrified and feeling suddenly very bold. The head twisted around and the hands flexed out against the wall.

  “I… I know,” I whispered.

  She inclined her head politely. “Oh?”

  My eyes snapped to her face. “I know there’s a hag. And I know about Gil, and I know you’re involved in all this and… please. Please, help me find Teela.”

  The warm light in her brown eyes died. Something cold and flat took its place. Agnes pursed her lips. Her gaze drifted to my fingers, which were clenched around the knife.

  I set it down very deliberately. “I won’t tell anyone. And I want to help you- get you away from this place, maybe. You could travel north with me, if you like. But, please, Teela doesn’t deserve-”

  “I don’t think,” she murmured in a low voice, smoothing her apron again, “You understand what you’re saying, love.”

  Heat lanced through my veins. But it was far too late to stop now. “Agnes, I understand exactly what I’m saying. Look, I’m a runekeeper- I can prove it, if you want. I have magic, maybe enough to fight this thing. I might be able to put a stop to all this. Just point me towards it, and I’ll try. I know you don’t want to be hurting people.”

  Her wrinkled face twisted into a sneer. It was an ugly, unnerving look, when before she had been all kindness and warmth.

  “Oh? And if I say no- what, you’ll call the Watch? Tell captain Rell of your suspicions? Or have you already told him?” Her eyes glittered in the dim light.

  “No.” I searched her face pleadingly. “No, I haven’t told him. I haven’t told anyone, because I don’t understand why. Why would you help this thing? Why would Gil, or anyone in Snowmelt? I know pacted people are executed, and I don’t want that to happen; not if you’re all victims or need help! Please, let me help.”

  Her shadow danced on the wall. The cold look in her eyes faded, and was replaced by calm neutrality. “You’re chasing at ghosts, love. Seeing threats and shadows where there are none.”

  I glowered at the macabre figure behind her. “I’m really, really not.”

  She huffed and waggled one bony finger at me. “Accusing an old woman of… what, kidnapping? No one will believe such a thing. There’s not a shred of proof.”

  I searched her face for anything that might give me hope; sadness, remorse, a glimmer of the weariness I’d seen in Gil’s eyes. But there was nothing.

  “Here’s what’s going to happen, dear. You’re going to spend the night here, thinking long and hard about exactly what the wisest course of action is. And then I think we’ll have a nice chat in the morning over a cup of tea. I hope that will end with young Terrence and all the fine folk here at my establishment returning to town, and you on your merry way north with no more thoughts of hags and Fae and wicked bargains. Do you understand?”

  My blood boiled with every word. I clenched my fists and stepped towards her, snarling out through gritted teeth, “What? No. No! Teela’s out there somewhere, afraid and hurt and she needs help, and you-”

  She bared her yellow, crooked teeth in a mirthless smile. “Careful, dear. I don’t think those gentlemen out there will take kindly to you shouting at me.”

  I glared down at her. “Maybe I’ll tell them what you’ve done. I didn’t want to, I really didn’t, but if you’re going to threaten me-”

  She chuckled again. “Why don’t you go try? Go tell them all what you suspect. I could do with a good laugh.”

  I felt my nails digging into my palms. “How… how can you not care? I don’t understand. You met Teela, you talked with her, you saw how nice she is.”

  Agnes fell silent. Her shadow danced and writhed and she corrected me softly, “Was.”

  Furious heat burned at the backs of my eyelids. For a moment, I saw red.

  Breathe. Don’t do anything rash. I don’t have any proof.

  I closed my eyes, sucking in air through my nostrils. Agnes watched with hooded eyes as I collected myself, squared my shoulders, and stalked out of the kitchen.

  Terrence gave me a bright smile. Then he took in my expression and his face wilted with naked worry. “Ashes, are you alright?”

  “What?” I balked. My breath was coming in choppy gasps, and I looked down to see that my hands were trembling.

  Aveline and Ward had been speaking in hushed voices beside the fireplace. They fell silent and looked at me.

  I shut my eyes again. Breathe. Breathe. There’s no point in telling any of them; I don’t have any proof. And she’s not going to admit to anything. Salt, what do I do?!

  I didn’t have much time to dwell on the problem. Terrence rose, his young face creased with concern, and he took a step towards me.

  As he did so, the inn door swung open. Cold air wafted in, making the lanterns flicker and dance.

  I swept my gaze across the common room. My heart nearly stopped.

  Singed boots. Mud-spattered cloak. Perpetual scowl.

  Renner was standing in the doorway.