Dark Snow

Chapter 9: The Chepstow Execution

Chepstow was nothing like the town Mia had pictured during their journey. In truth, it looked like a slightly larger version of Blueriver, though rougher around the edges, lacking the quiet charm she'd grown accustomed to. The houses were widely spaced, rustic structures with weathered wood exteriors that might have once been bright but had since faded to a dull, smoky brown. Each home sat comfortably distant from the next, almost like neighbors who, despite their proximity, had little to do with one another.

The woods encircled the town like a protective ring, looming close enough for her to see winter's last traces of snow clinging to the branches. The sight lent a bleakness to the air, as if Chepstow were suspended in a perpetual end-of-winter twilight. She could hear the chatter of women perched on their porches, pipes in hand, exhaling thin wisps of smoke that vanished quickly in the dry air. Children darted around the yards, their shrill laughter rising and falling unpredictably, carrying an odd, haunting quality that reminded her of a fox's distant cry in the night.

Mia kept quiet, her gaze lingering over the scene with a quiet disappointment she didn't bother to mask. Lucas walked alongside her, catching the slight shift in her expression. He gave a resigned sigh. "I told you it's not what you'd expect."

"It's just..." She trailed off, searching for the right words to convey her frustration. "A slightly warmer version of Blueriver." She shrugged, attempting nonchalance. "It's fine," she added hastily, forcing a smile. Then, almost as an afterthought, she muttered, "But the village boys are cute."

Lucas blinked in surprise, raising an eyebrow. "Huh?"

Before he could press further, she nudged him playfully and continued to walk, stepping into the heart of the village. The scent of hay hung heavily in the air, sweet but tinged with an underlying staleness from wheelbarrows piled with dry stalks. They paused as a man on horseback clopped past them, his eyes fixed on some point in the distance.

Mia slowed to a stop as two boys darted in front of her, their feet skidding to a halt just inches away. One had a mop of brown hair framing a gentle, unblemished face, while the other sported a poorly shaved scalp, dotted with nicks and patches, likely a recent and crude remedy for lice. Both stared up at her with wide, wondering eyes.

The smaller of the two whispered, "Are you an angel?" reaching a cautious hand toward her as if she might vanish at any moment.

Mia smiled and crouched down to meet their eye level. "An angel?" she laughed. "Definitely. Straight from heaven..." the girl whispered, leaning in with a grin. "But you know who isn't?" She jerked her thumb in Lucas's direction, who stood a few paces back, watching with a bemused expression. "See that one over there? The tall, pretty one? He's actually a demon in disguise."

The boys' eyes widened, their mouths dropping open. They glanced over at Lucas, who was beginning to frown.

"I need you two to keep an eye on him," she continued, lowering her voice as it was of great importance. "Make sure he doesn't get up to any trouble."

The boys gave solemn nods, little chests puffing, before spinning around to glare suspiciously at Lucas. As Mia straightened, she caught his narrowed gaze.

"What are you up to?" he asked with cautious, tightly pressed lips.

"Oh, nothing." She smiled sweetly, brushing her hands off on her coat. "Just enlisting a bit of local help."

"Uh-huh..." Lucas muttered suspiciously. "Well, tell your..."

"Hey!" a young voice shouted. "Don't mess with the angel!"

Lucas blinked, startled as a boy—no older than five, with brown hair—came running over, his heavy steps culminating in soft taps against Lucas's leg. "Uh...angel?"