Hyacinth (Tamlin's Healing Arc)

Chapter Eighteen

Tamlin's gaze darted between Cin's face and just over her shoulder. "You said we'd take baby steps, Cin. This feels like a leap."

She rolled her eyes. "Trust me. We'll buy food, enough for a small army, from various sellers or traders, and later we'll take it to the water wraiths."

The flowers had been singing about the dire state of the Water Wraiths all morning, all week. They were as badly off as Calla, as the rest of Spring. Cin sighed, realizing that Tamlin still had doubts about her plan. "Look, the wraiths have started stealing food again. That means they're taking away food that could have fed families or been traded for necessities."

"I didn't realize they were still lacking in food." Tamlin swallowed hard and scratched the side of his neck. All of this was a delaying tactic. He was anxious about going into Calla as himself.

"Well," Cin pretended to brush the dust from his shoulder, "today's the day you find out why."

Tamlin looked unconvinced, but the time for arguing, deliberating, and second-guessing was over. He picked up the bag he had lowered to the sandy ground at their feet and swung it over his shoulder.

He stood a little taller, took a deep, somewhat steadying breath, and walked towards the gates of Iron Fencing around Calla.

Surfinia may have been the dreamiest village to visit, but Calla had always held Cin's heart. The village was nestled between the slopes of two hills, leaving space between them for a freshwater river. The riverbed housed hundreds of different types of medicinal plants, which had played in Calla's favor.

The cobblestone path started in the canopy of trees just outside the iron gates and weaved in and around Calla like a river of stone. Inside the gates, everything was wrought iron, stone, marble, and chiseled granite. Many of the buildings were among the oldest in Prythian, which meant they couldn't be altered by the remaining fae.

Calla was also the only village in Spring that lacked wild flora within its gates. The streets were not adorned with flowers, vines, or trees, but rather more stone statues and buildings. The absence of plants vying for her attention had been the reason for Cin's love of Calla. And if her father hadn't been sick, she might have considered relocating to this stone village.

As they passed through the gates, Cin noticed the fields of vegetation climbing the hill and observed the scarcity of produce. If Tamlin's goal was to buy food for the wraiths, then Cin would take it upon herself to ensure that the villagers had enough to eat as well.

In a hightower built a few feet from the gate, a man stood with a bow in his hand and a quiver strapped to his waist. He eyed them suspiciously but made no move to attack, question, or even stop them. They wouldn't come across as threats to the few remaining fae in the village, which would be enough to ensure their safe passage. As they drew nearer, Cin realized that the man was just a boy, his face betraying a hint of fear as he attempted to display bravery despite his young age.

The boy glanced at Tamlin, his mouth falling open. Even if the hadn't known who he was, Tamlin had sworn not to put a damper on his power. If he was going to reveal his face, he might as well fully embrace it.

Seeing the shock on the boy's face, Cin worried that it may have been too soon to expose Tamlin to the hostility he would encounter in Calla. Looking around at the deserted streets, she knew that this might be too overwhelming. She gazed up at Tamlin, expecting to see heightened anxiety, signs of stress, and perhaps even doubt.

But it wasn't there.

"Good morning," Tamlin greeted the boy. The world fell into a pause, even the wind refrained from rustling down the street or skittering over the nearby cobblestones.

The boy, seemingly stumbling over his words, finally responded, "Good morning, High Lord."

"It's been a while since I've visited Calla. Could you point us in the direction of the market? We've come to trade." The words effortlessly flowed from Tamlin's mouth, as smooth as butter gliding over warm toast. He may have been a broken man, but he knew how to play the role of the High Lord, and he played it well.

"Yeah, of course," the boy dropped to his knees on the hightower, causing Cin to shield her eyes from the harsh midday sun with her hand. The boy proceeded to explain the route they needed to take, indicating where to turn once, twice, until they reached the trade market. "It's not too busy today, my Lord. You should be able to find whatever you're looking for with ease."

"Thank you. What's your name?"

"Asha, my Lord. Son of Enzo Locero," he replied. The boy was the Chief Elder's son, or rather, he had been. Cin knew that Enzo Locero was dead, along with his wife. They had fought alongside Bron in the war against Hybern, but Bron had returned alone.

Tamlin must have known it too, because as soon as Asha mentioned his father's name, Tamlin's face fell. "Thank you, Asha," he gave the boy a sincere nod and took Cin by the arm, leading her deeper into Calla.

The few fae they passed on the way to the market kept their heads hung low, almost pretending not to acknowledge that their High Lord was walking the same streets as they were.

It pained Cin to witness the sorry state of the once renowned village, now reduced to a mere assortment of stone houses held together by whatever materials remained after Hybern's devastating fires razed hundreds—thousands—of homes.

The streets were littered with dust, rubble, and debris. Even the cobblestones beneath their feet faltered every few steps as if the village itself had lost hope and clung to existence by the thinnest of threads.

"I didn't realize it had become this dire," Tamlin murmured.

"How could you have? The Crystal Lake had been your home for years," Cin responded in hushed tones. Tamlin had confessed that he had sought solace at the Lake shortly after Hybern's downfall, eventually retreating there more frequently until he practically lived there.

They could hear the lively chatter before catching sight of the market. The buzz of socializing voices and the flapping of tablecloths reached their ears. Cin could almost imagine someone enthusiastically haggling. Five rows of tables and booths stretched from the grand statue of the Beast of Spring at the center of the square to the edges where they met the surrounding buildings.

"Are you going to be okay here if I step away for a moment?" Cin halted Tamlin with a hand on his arm.

"Wait, why? What happened to doing this together?" Tamlin wasn't panicked, but he clearly wasn't prepared to face them alone.

Cin forced a smile. "That was before I saw what their vegetation field looks like."

Tamlin's gaze darted over Cin's shoulder to the barren hills. "I could come with you."

"No," Cin shook her head. "You've already been spotted. If you leave now, it will appear as though you're afraid of your own People." She gestured toward the market, where the closest patrons had started whispering to one another, casting pointed glances at Tamlin. They had recognized him. Leaving abruptly could worsen the situation. "I'll only be a few minutes. You've got this. I believe in you." She encouraged him and gently nudged him toward the market.

Cin waited and watched as he lifted his head, then confidently strode down the lane. Chuckling to herself, Cin turned and headed toward the hills.