Fight or Flight

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The next morning, I was roused from another night of tossing and turning. For a moment after I opened my eyes, disorientation gripped me – the unfamiliar scents, calls of seagulls, the feel of foreign linens. Where was I? A tightness gripped my throat before memory rushed back.

Errals. The Night Market. I groaned. Finnian.

I rose from my restive position in bed to reach for the cup of water on my nightstand. My eyes roved over the rest of the space as I drank deeply. The general layout seemed to mimic Finnian's room... except for the lack of maps and alcohol. Draped over the chair beneath my reflection in the mirror, my new green dress. The Echovian fabric danced effortlessly in the morning light. I felt a flutter prick at my stomach as I reflected on Finnian's eager reaction to how it looked on me.

I donned my traditional crowning braid, fingers working overtime as my stomach seethed with hunger, and pulled on a new set of clothes. Alannah had picked out countless skirts, dresses, and blouses for me at a vendor stalls the night before. I had loved them all, especially the leather pair of pants she'd thrust into my arms. After I regained my wing's use, they would certainly function much better than skirts during my flights. For today, though, I tugged on a simple cotton dress that I cinched at my ribs with a light green, embroidered corset. Green was going to be my signature color, I decided.

The Mug's tavern was a lull of silence when I descended the stairs. A handful of regulars, likely overnight patrons still nursing the remnants of their drinks, were scattered about the tavern. Alannah stood behind the bar alone, cupping a steaming mug of what smelled like coffee between her palms. A plate of morning cakes sat on the counter and their sweet aroma had filled the tavern by the time I approached her.

Alannah glanced up from a book splayed on the counter, absently sweeping her cascade of hair over one shoulder. Her eyes met mine as I slid onto the barstool across the counter.

"Sleep well?" she asked, her voice tugging at sarcasm.

She pushed the plate towards me after I took a seat across from her.

I shrugged, reaching for a cake. "As well as could be expected, although it would be a blessing from the Moon Mother if I could have one normal night. What are you reading?"

She picked up the book's face so I could read the title... but it wasn't in any language that had been taught in Riem.

"You can speak other languages?" I gaped at my friend, a rush of admiration driving its way into my chest.

"I don't know about speaking other languages, but my parents have taught me to read other languages since I was a toddler– around the age of an avian nestling." I appreciated the clarification, my mind already overwhelmed with thoughts.

"Your parents sound like they... know a lot about the world," I fumbled for the words to explain my fascination.

Alannah's smile widened, "You'll get to meet them someday. They're here in Errals, they're just very busy."

As I reached for another morning cake, I realized I didn't see Finnian up and about yet. "Have you seen the captain this morning?"

Alannah's laugh filled through the tavern. "Gods, Aria, if you ever call Finn 'the captain' to my face again I might throw up on you."

My laughter joined hers, infectious and warm. Alannah had clearly known Finnian for a while, if they were comfortable mocking each other this way. Their relationship reminded me of the pairs of siblings in Riem I'd see growing up. Close, not in a way that was perverse, but trustful. They would often walk the streets together, arm-in-arm, whispering secrets and stories that no one else would hear. Of course, in every way that the avian siblings of Riem were gentle with one another, Errals siblings seemed to be rough. Even as a foreigner, though, I could tell that it all stemmed from a place of love and understanding.