The Lonely Ones

Chapter Nineteen: Revealing Fae Secrets

Artemis definitely isn't overthinking things. Another week passes of the boy dropping by. During every visit, the temperature of the shop drops. Much like the forest did when Wren was near. Artemis has caught the boys' eyes almost turning gray on numerous occasions. The day prior, he brought extra protection to fae glamour by spending hours searching for four-leaf clovers. He found three, carrying them in his pockets. That's when the boy's hair turned silver for a moment.

How Wren could keep up the glamour was beyond Artemis. He has never come across a fae whose glamour broke the cardinal rules. Some said the High King could, that even iron couldn't kill him. But what about Wren? A question to be answered at a later time.

Now that Artemis knew for sure, he had a plan to make Wren admit it and why he's been disguising himself to visit so regularly.

The next time Wren appears at the shop, he's startled when Artemis asks, "Do you have time to spare this evening?"

"For you, always," Wren replies. "Why? Do you plan to show me a good time?"

"If you'd let me."

If Wren suspects Artemis knows the truth, he doesn't care enough to show it.

"Meet me at town square when the sun sets," Wren says after making another purchase, then takes his leave.

Artemis hates to think of how his gaze continuously drifts to the window, waiting for darkness. Time drags on longer than ever, as if aware of his growing excitement.

Why must it be excitement? He'd rather be anxious. Alas, he can't deny the truth; he wants to see Wren again. The real Wren. Talk to him like they did in the cave. But now Wren can answer. He's curious to hear those answers. To listen to a voice he imagined, then heard for such a short time.

When the sun sets, he swiftly closes up shop. He travels down mostly deserted streets for all know to get inside before nightfall. Even travelers rush to grab vacant rooms at the local inn or set up tents alongside the road, huddled together for much more than warmth. There is safety in numbers, even among vicious fae.

As Wren promised, he waits in town square, which isn't much of a square. Artemis read of cities where town squares could house hundreds. Where the streets are made of marble and have sparkling fountains at the center. In Eidenswill, there's merely a circle of houses around tattered red bricks placed haphazardly in a makeshift sphere. At the center, there's the town well and some rickety benches. If the people weren't taxed so heavily, perhaps Eidenswill would be made of shining marble, like the southern town along the Jolly Road is. Or so Artemis heard. He hopes taxing would change after Hellman's death, but there has yet to be any word.

Wren sits on the bench, waving when Artemis comes into view. He picks up his pace, almost running to meet Wren.

"Are you alright to be out after dark?" Artemis inquires.

Wren rises, dusting off his trousers. "Of course. I'm being escorted by a skilled hunter carrying more weapons than I can count. What could be safer?"

Artemis adjusts the quiver on his back, glancing next to the broadsword tethered to his waist and a dagger on the opposing side. A few more weapons are hidden; a narrow dagger in his jacket pocket. Two wrapped around his ankles. One never knows what they'll meet in the woods. It's better to be overly prepared than under prepared.

"What are our plans?" Wren asks, striding closer.

Artemis waits, half expecting Wren to take his arm. As panicked as he would be to be seen by others, he suspected Wren would struggle controlling his glamour if he were so close to the four-leaf clovers and iron.