Falling Ashes (17 page)

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Authors: Kate Bloomfield

BOOK: Falling Ashes
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Hawthorne took me up the grassy hill, slipping in multiple rabbit holes along the way. Once we reached the top, I realized that this windmill was in a far greater state of disrepair than I had anticipated. It looked as though someone had lived inside its small quarters a long time ago. The door hung from its hinges, and a fine layer of dirt coated the ground. Hawthorne stepped over the threshold, and I ignited my palm to illuminate the space. The area was no bigger than a few square meters, and several owls had made their home in the high rafters. Droppings littered the wooden panels and the floor.

In the confined space, there was an old, broken armchair that was ripped and spilling its padding across the floor. Something wiggled under the upholstery. In another corner, was an old, steel bed frame with no mattress. There were other miscellaneous items scattered around the floor: a broken jug, pieces of glass from a fractured window, and a stuffed teddy-bear that was missing several limbs.

‘Really?’ I asked Hawthorne, crinkling my nose. I suppose I shouldn’t complain; he’d spotted this windmill from the sky and chosen it as a safe place to rest for the night. However, my skin crawled at the very sight of the place.

Hawthorne grabbed the cushions of the armchair in his mouth and placed them on the floor in a row. He’d made me a bed.

He lowered himself to the ground so I could slide off his back and onto the moldy, old cushions. Tears stung my eyes as I climbed down. Once I was on the ground, Hawthorne circled the round room once before lying in a soft corner littered with stuffing from the armchair. He placed his head under his wing and prepared for sleep. He seemed in a bad mood.

My skin crawled as though a thousand insects were crawling over me as I lay on the cushions. I knew it was my imagination so I tried my best to ignore it and get some sleep. It was difficult. My leg throbbed angrily, the pain consuming every thought in my head.

 

Chapter Twelve

A Stubborn Horse

 

JACK GREENWOOD

 

‘What do you mean she
left
?’

Jack stood in the living room of his father’s home, glaring down at the pair sitting on the sofa.

‘Well, it’s complicated-’ his father began.

‘Complicated?’ Jack repeated. ‘What did you say to her?’

The couple looked at each other nervously. There was something they weren’t telling Jack.

‘What is it?’ he said, glancing between the two.

Caroline cleared her throat nervously. ‘Um, well. We had a little … uh … visit.’

‘Visit?’

‘The … well … guards showed up looking for Avalon, and well … I let them in.’

Jack’s face visibly paled. ‘You what?’

‘I didn’t think,’ Caroline said, her eyes wide. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘Did they … did they take her?’

Caroline glanced at her husband before shaking her head. ‘No, I don’t think so.’

‘What do you mean
you don’t think so
?’

Caroline looked at Jack guiltily. ‘She escaped through the bathroom window, but they followed her. I don’t know if they found her.’

Jack collapsed onto the sofa and put his face in his hands. ‘And you haven’t seen her since she escaped through the bathroom window?’ he asked.

Caroline shook her head.

‘And where were you during all of this?’ Jack waved a hand at his father angrily.

His father gave a sideways glance at Caroline. ‘I was …  incapacitated.’

‘That’s typical,’ Jack spat, standing up and beginning to pace. ‘That is
so
like you. You don’t give a damn what happens to your family.’

‘Now, that’s not true, Son,’ his father said, standing also. ‘Besides, it’s not like Avalon is family, technically.’

‘She’s
my
family,’ Jack said angrily, pointing a finger at his own chest.

‘There’s no use getting angry about it,’ his father said, raising his voice slightly. ‘Just sit and calm down.’

‘I will not calm down,’ said Jack fiercely.  ‘My girlfriend is out there,
somewhere
… missing!’

It felt strange to refer to Avalon as his girlfriend. He knew what her reaction would be if she were here; he could picture the way her cheeks would turn crimson, and the way her lips would purse.

Jack’s father took a deep breath. ‘You’re not helping the situation by ranting and raving.’

Jack sat back down on the sofa, huffing angrily. It was not often he lost his temper, but he was so agitated by his father’s lack of help, that he was shaking. He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself.

‘Did … did she say where she might go next?’ Jack asked in a softer voice.

His father looked to Caroline to answer the question, who bit her lip, thinking hard.

‘Oh … no, I don’t think she talked about seeing anyone else.’

‘Where is Avalon’s family? Her parents? Aren’t they looking for her?’

Jack nodded. ‘Her mother and sister have taken shelter at a lodge in Hew. They can’t travel far with Helena’s condition-’ Jack stopped talking before he revealed too much about Avalon’s little sister. ‘Her father is traveling to Flamethroat to visit a … friend.’ They didn’t need to know that this ‘friend’ was actually Robert Scotland, another member of H.E.L.E.N.A. (The Human Emancipation League).

Jack didn’t know where to go next. He’d been so sure that Avalon would go to his father’s home. Who else was there? There was
Ræven in Frost Arch, but Avalon wouldn’t be stupid enough to go back
there
. There was one thing that comforted Jack, and that was the fact that Hawthorne was with Avalon. With him, she would be safe.

So where to try next? Perhaps Jack should also head to Flamethroat Valley to meet with Avalon’s father, Kenneth. 

No … that wouldn’t be a very productive thing to do
. Jack thought long and hard about what to do next before it struck him.

Concord City
.

It sounded crazy, and Jack knew Avalon would not be there, however, if she was captured, surely they would take her to the Realm headquarters? It was his best chance of finding her, anyway.

‘Thanks for your help,’ Jack muttered, getting up from the sofa.

‘Where are you going? You need to rest,’ said his father. ‘You’ve been traveling for
days
.’

‘I
need
to find her,’ said Jack, picking up his satchel and slinging it over his shoulder.

‘Have a rest, just for a couple of hours, at least,’ said Caroline.

‘No, I’d rather not stay here,’ he replied bitterly. Caroline dropped her gaze and looked at her lap, ashamed.

Jack’s father got up and crossed the sitting room until he was a foot away. ‘At least take this, Son.’ He pressed a small pouch of coins into Jack’s hands.

‘What’s this for?’ Jack asked, holding up the bag of money.

‘To buy a horse,’ his father said. ‘You’ll get there quicker. There’s an auction in town every Saturday. If you hurry, you might make it.’

Jack looked down at the money and felt guilty. ‘I can’t take this. It must be all of your savings.’

His father shook his head. ‘Take it. Like you said, you need to find her … and, well … it’s our fault she isn’t here at the moment.’

Jack eyed his father. ‘Why? You didn’t call the guards here.’ He paused. ‘You didn’t, did you?’

His father gave a slight jerk of the head, indicating to Caroline who sat behind him, unaware of the exchange between the two men.

Jack felt another wave of anger, but clenched his teeth together and repressed it. Through gritted teeth, he hissed: ‘And
why
would she do that?’

His father winced. ‘It’s … complicated.’

Jack lowered his voice further. ‘Thought you’d get the reward money, huh? Are things really so tight that you need to sell out my girlfriend to the guards?’

‘It’s got nothing to do with money,’ said his father. ‘Just … just trust me okay?’

Jack scoffed and took a step away from his father. ‘Yeah, trust. Whatever.’ He wasn’t sure there would ever be anything between the two of them, not for a very long time, at least. Too much pain had been caused by his abandonment of Jack when he was a child. ‘I’m out of here.’

Jack turned towards the spiral staircase that led to the shop below, ignoring his father’s protests.

Once he was on the street again, Jack took a deep breath and began walking. His legs ached from the three day trek to Scyre, only to find disappointment. He’d been so sure Avalon was here.

Jack decided to take his father’s advice, and went to the marketplace in Scyre to search for a ride. He’d been given enough coin to afford two horses, if he pleased.

Just like his father had said, there was an auction taking place where farmers and breeders bought and sold horses. However, it looked as though the event was coming to a close. Much of the crowd was beginning to disperse just as Jack arrived.

‘All right folks, don’t go anywhere yet. Last horse of the day, and it’s not one to miss. C’mon now, get your pocket money out, and let’s start the bidding at thirty gold.’

The many men and women that were standing around the circular pen lost interest as soon as the price had been named. They muttered to one another, scoffing at the specimen on show before them. Jack squeezed through the crowd until he was against the gate and could see the auction taking place.

A big, beefy man was auctioneering; his voice was booming across the marketplace at an unusually loud level. In the circular pen was a man leading a horse around by its tether. The horse, a brown and white spotted stallion, was showing a lot of resistance to the tether.

‘Here we’ve got a male spotted appaloosa for you, ladies and gentlemen. Fifteen hands, weighing in at one-thousand and one-hundred pounds. Only four-years-old, and a mighty fine horse for riding,’ the auctioneer boomed.

Jack heard a pair of men muttering to his left.

‘That’s old McCloud’s horse, that is. I heard it’s as stubborn as a mule.’

‘Aye,’ the second man agreed, ‘Ain’t a good working horse, that’s for sure. Probably why he’s selling it.’

‘Bet it’s a fast runner, though.’

‘Yeah, but what use is that?’

Jack looked back at the spotted horse trotting reluctantly around the ring while the auctioneer struggled to keep the bidders' attention.

‘C’mon folks, if this horse sells for less than fifteen gold, it’ll be a steal. Don’t let this opportunity pass you by.’

The men snorted with laughter.

‘I wouldn’t pay ten gold for a horse too stubborn to work.’

‘Are you all done here, ladies and gentlemen? No bids for this fine specimen? We’ve got a nice ride here, can run like the wind, this one.’

Jack bit his lip, and before he knew it, he was shouting, ‘Fifteen gold!’

A few people turned in his direction to see who was foolish enough to buy the stubborn steed. The men beside Jack sniggered, but he ignored them.

‘Thank you, sir! And we’ve got fifteen gold. Fifteen. Do I hear twenty? Who wants to make it twenty? Twenty gold for this horse. I’ll take eighteen if that’s all you’ve got. C’mon now, don’t let this one get away.  We’ve got a current bid of fifteen with this young gentleman over here.’

The auctioneer went on and on, spouting gibberish at an incredible rate.

‘Fifteen going once. Twice. Last chance, folks. No? Aaaaand
SOLD
to the gentleman with the red scarf.’

Jack was both shocked and impressed with himself. He’d bought a horse. True, no one else had bid on it, but it was the last horse of the day. Most buyers would have spent their budget on other horses already.  That’s what he’d like to think, anyway.

Making his way to the stand, Jack pulled out the pouch of money his father had given him. He counted fifteen gold pieces into his palm and slapped it into the auctioneer’s hand.

‘Congrats, Son,’ said the auctioneer. ‘Enjoy. This ones got … uh … real
personality
.’

Ignoring the auctioneer, Jack entered the ring and met with the horse's owner.

‘You’re the lad who bought him?’ asked the middle-aged farmer.

‘That’s me,’ said Jack.

The farmer handed the reigns to Jack, and the horse pulled impatiently.

‘He’s all yours.’ 

Jack wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, but the farmer seemed pleased to be rid of the horse.

‘You had much experience with horses?’ asked the farmer.

‘Uh, I’ve had a little experience around Pegasi.’

The farmer’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Really? You’ve seen a Pegasi?’

Jack nodded. ‘Yeah, I used to work at a manor that had a whole stable full of them.’

The farmer removed his hat, revealing a balding head, and wiped his brow. ‘Well … he ought to be no trouble for you then. Is it true Pegasi can be violent?’

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