Descendants of the Kings (Book 2)

Ch 54.2: No one else to blame

It took them exactly four separate lapses to get to the Vale. Fortunately, with all their limbs intact.

"I know it's not the time, but I'm rather proud of myself for managing that," Briar hummed, pleased. "That's the longest distance I've ever lapsed."

"See, and you'd never have known if you hadn't broken some rules," Ella said. She stopped and faced Briar. "Now, disregard everything I just said, because here, there are several rules you must follow. Understood?"

Wide-eyed, Briar nodded.

"Don't talk to anyone, keep your hood up, don't stray into any corners and absolutely do not take anything they offer you," Ella enumerated. She reached into her pocket and pressed an object into Briar's hand. "If anyone gets too close, use this."

"What on earth is this?" Briar sputtered. "It smells awful."

"A silver-coated iron dagger," Ella said. "Works on all sorts of creatures."

Briar started at it like an abomination. "Where did you get this? I don't even know how to use it!"

"I have a contact," Ella dismissed. "And it's easy—pointy end first. But don't worry, I doubt you'll have to use it. Just stay close to me."

"When I told you I needed a distraction, I didn't think you'd take it so seriously," she muttered, following behind Ella.

-

There was something comforting in how some things, despite the war and the upheaval, remained the same. The Vale was one of those things. It was just as seedy and depraved as always.

Though there were fewer people on the street, the snow didn't seem to affect the town. It was business as usual. Ella and Briar scurried down pot-holed dirt roads, slivers of light seeping from between the slats of the boards covering the ramshackle huts.

Briar gaped as they passed a large brothel where several fae were openly fucking in the streets, their sounds obscene and telling, even in the dark.

"Don't stare," Ella chastised in a low tone, pulling her along.

"I'm sorry, it's just... I'd heard it was bad, but I didn't think it was that terrible," she muttered, pressing herself close.

That wasn't even the worst of it, Ella thought darkly, thinking of the ogre who had tried to snatch her that fateful night. If it hadn't been for Aedion, she would have ended up in the black market.

In front of the brothel stood a hulking orc, snapping orders at a couple of troll guards. Ella didn't have to look too closely to recognise him. Valaruk, Aedion had called him. She could remember the strange ink on his arms and the large scar spanning his face. He was a flesh trader, the master of Vale.

Ella recalled the files on Grayson's desk. Exotic fae for the exotic gentleman. Valaruk's power may have extended outside of Faerie, too.

"Let's go," she whispered to Briar, tugging her away before they could call attention to themselves.

Mercifully, other than the typical brawls and addled fae, they avoided any run-ins by the time they reached the Red Lantern.

It loomed, grimy and poorly-illuminated. The windows were so caked with grease and dirt that it was impossible to peer inside. Part of the charm, surely.

"This is it?" Briar asked, looking the place up and down with a grimace. "I'm not too good for a common pub, but this place is a hovel. What would Aedion want with a place like this? Are you even sure he's here?"

"No, I don't," Ella answered tersely, pulling her away from view, should anyone open the door. "But he comes here a lot. Enough that they know him by name. And I have a feeling this is where he goes off to."