The Way We Fall

Chapter 35 (Roche)

Stalls lined the roads, filled with fresh fruit, vegetables and meat. Roche stumbled as a gaggle of children ran in front of her. At her side, Tigris rolled her eyes.

"Can you walk normally for once?" the princess snapped. Roche shrugged, too distracted to let the insult stick. It was hard to concentrate in such a large crowd. They were packed shoulder to shoulder, weaving between people and vendors. Suddenly, Aodh shouted,

"There!" He pointed. Tigris grabbed Finn's wrist as they plowed forward towards one of the larger stalls. As they approached, Roche heard the gentle nickering and whinnying of horses. The crowd parted enough for her to glimpse the large horses. They seemed to be healthy, but horses weren't really her thing.

"How much for four?" Aodh asked the stablehand. The ginger rubbed his beard.

"Ah, that'll cost ya. Fifty gold pieces."

Aodh's eyes bugged out of his head. "FIFTY?"

"Aye," the man tenderly fiddled with the mane of the closest horse. "They're fine beasts. Can't let em' go for less."

"They look healthy." Tigris muttered to Aodh. He spun around towards her.

"Do you know how much we have?" he hissed, "Because if we spend all of our money on a few horses-"

The sounds of the siblings bickering faded as Roche felt an awareness prick the edges of her consciousness. She stiffened, looking around. A sinking kind of dread filled her, blurring out the world until all she could hear was the steady thump of her pulse. She could feel something tickling the inkblood in her veins. It felt familiar.

Too familiar.

Roche glanced at the arguing siblings before she tugged Finn's arm.

"I'll be right back, okay? I'm going to see if I can find us some food." Roche whispered. Finn blindly reached for her, but Roche was already melting into the crowd. She was glad for the hood obscuring her face as she crept forward, stumbling into strangers drunkenly as she blindly followed the tug clouding her mind.

She hadn't realised how dark this part of the market was until she was there. There were no children racing around, and certainly no food. This part of the market was desolate, with almost no shoppers around. Unease crept into her throat. Why would inkblood be here?

That was when she saw it. A single, solitary stall tucked into the shadows. A small crowd had formed around it, exchanging hushed murmurs. They were all dressed in long cloaks, wearing hoods or masks obscuring their faces, like Roche. Against her logic, Roche tiptoed closer, heart pounding.

A wild smell filled the air, familiar and pungent. The vials of inkblood were lined up carefully, dark and sloshing. It swirled in the glass vials, pressing against the cork stoppers holding it at bay.

"How much for one?" one of the shoppers hissed. The hooded vendor kept his face shrouded.

"Two hundred gold pieces."

"Highway robbery!" someone else yelped, "Last week it was seventy five silvers!"

The vendor seemed to grimace. He looked up enough for his obsidian eyes to glare at the offending customer. "My stock's low this week. Most of it was bought out yesterday by a traveler. You're lucky there's anything left! Now, do you want it or not?"

A traveler? Roche bit her lip, drawing closer.

"You know my child needs it." the customer said icily, "That inkblood can't heal him without some more. You didn't give me enough last time."

The vendor lowered his gaze respectfully. "I'm sorry, Loretta. Truly. But this is all I've got."

"Well let's hope it's enough."