Artemis and Caspian: The Spy

Chapter Sixteen

Artemis took a deep breath of the crisp afternoon air as she stepped into the lower town. She felt good today. Swinging a basket on her arm, she took her time, slowly perusing merchant's carts lining the busy streets. People hurriedly shoved past her as they rushed to finish errands, bumping her along in their haste. Artemis had to readjust her footing as a particularly rude man roughly checked her shoulder, sending her stumbling forward. The witch smoothed out her dress. Luckily, she wasn't carrying anything all that important.

Figuring it was better to stay out of their way, Artemis pulled over to the side, leaning into some carts that teemed with irresistible smells, filling the air with aromas that walked between tangy and sweet. They were mixed with other less desirable smells that also occupied the narrow dirt paved streets. Animals in wooden cages joined the sounds of people greeting each other by squealing in fear at the sight of butchers sharpening knives. Merchants haggled loudly on every road, pronouncing their wares and arguing with greedy customers.

Artemis noticed a few people with ragged cloaks hobble past. These were the Meridian shamen. She'd heard rumors of their infamy from foreigners visiting the realm but despite knowing better, it was hard for her to untangle herself from their lies. She'd grown up on their wisdom and uncovering their shams was like a slap in the face. The witch watched as one knocked on a peasant's door offering her a cheaply made idol in exchange for a sack of coins. The tired old woman looked around wearily but gave into his demands, plunking a brown cloth sack in his hands as she took the protection, precariously placing it outside her door to protect the home from malicious spirits. Artemis frowned as she continued her stroll. She felt sorry for people who still believed in their tricks.

She passed a few more houses lined with amulets and charms until she finally made it to the cart she'd been searching for. A young woman with flowers in her hair passively greeted Artemis as she wrapped up with another customer, eyeing the newcomer suspiciously as she completed the sale. The witch scrunched her nose. That was odd, the vendors here were usually very polite. When she was finished, the woman sauntered over to her, making sure to leave a wide berth.

"The usual please," Artemis said concerned as she watched the merchant gingerly take her coins off the table only after the witch had crossed her arms. She couldn't understand why she was being treated differently. This wasn't her first time at the botanist's cart. She supposed her requests were a bit odd but nothing out of the ordinary for someone in her position. The witch needed poisonous plants to practice her spells. Many required them, like a child lock, to keep Artemis's powers in check when she performed deadlier work. The woman looked uneasy with herself as she gathered the henbane flowers quickly and placed them back on the table, hesitant to give them to the expectant witch. Artemis said nothing as she slid them into her basket, shaking her head as she walked away.

With her calm afternoon interrupted, the witch felt herself growing more insecure as she noticed people's eyes tracking her across the busy streets. She picked up her pace. Keeping the castle in her sights, Artemis tried her best to ignore the whispers and glares that followed her as she went. The witch felt like a prisoner being gawked at before a hanging. She stopped briefly when she spotted two girls whispering fiercely among themselves, watching her with shifty eyes. When they noticed her staring they quickly skittered away, disappearing into the bustling traffic. There was definitely something wrong. Breaking into a swift jog, Artemis closed the distance between herself and the castle, relieved when she finally broke into the calm courtyard unaffected by the hustle from the lower town. Taking a final look over her shoulder, the witch strode into the castle, still reeling from her odd encounters. To her dismay, things only continued to get stranger.

As the witch made her way back up to her room, she took note of the servants making it a point to avoid eye contact with her. Many gave her a great distance as they passed her in the hallways, even at their great inconvenience. One boy balancing empty dishes pushed himself against a wall as he walked by her, leaving a meter between them, moving slowly to avoid dropping the precious platters. Paranoid, the witch tucked the henbane flowers further into her basket. When she reached her room, no one was around. It was beyond bizarre to see the passageway empty. Her room was on the same level as Caspian's and the courtier's chambers. She could understand why her door didn't need to be guarded but no trace of any human life was practically unheard of.