HAVEN ✓

Twelve

Keir is huge. If it weren't for the rugged brick and wooden buildings, and the smell of wood smoke drifting on the air, you would think we were in a civilized metropolis like Herald.

That's one thing I've noticed about the Outlands: where there's people, there's fire.

It only makes sense that Markee would be near.

The light cutting through the forest at such an angle tells us that we don't have much daylight left. I'm eager to talk to Summus Aspen and get to Markee as fast as possible. I tell Sol as much.

"I doubt he will be expecting us," Sol ponders aloud. "We will go to his residence at once."

The way Sol weaves through the streets of Keir makes me wonder how long she lived in the compound. If I didn't have her as my guide, I would never be able to traverse this village, yet she doesn't hesitate to turn a single corner. Letting my curiosity overcome my instinct to be polite, I ask.

"I was born and raised here," Sol says, reminiscent. "This is where I met my husband, Eli." I try to hide the surprise that's evident on my face. I hadn't even known she was married. Then again, I hadn't asked.

There's so much about Sol I don't know. Where is Eli now? What reasons would she have for leaving her hometown—the sprawling village where she grew up and started her family? I'm not usually one to push and pry for information, but the more I get to know Outlanders, the more I see myself in them. The more human they are.

That may or may not be a bad thing; humans can be as cruel as they can be kind.

As we walk through the compound, we pass a multitude of people preparing for nightfall. Some light torches to finish their duties by the flickering light. Others are hurriedly walking home while their neighbors promenade down the street, chattering with their companions. Hundreds of smells permeate the air. Dinnertime must be near. The scent of roasting meat mingles with the woodsmoke on the wind, making my mouth water.

No one seems to notice us until we amble past two gossiping women on the street, one much younger than the other. Despite the age gap, they're the spitting image of each other with their dark hair and bird-like features, possibly mother and daughter.

"Sol?" the older woman shrieks, her eyes bugging out of her skull. "What are you doing here?" she demands sharply. She quickly recovers, erecting a mask of superior indifference, but her daughter's jaw is securely rooted to the ground.

Sol stops and regards them with a bored stare. "You should not gawk, lest you attract flies," she advises the girl, whose mouth snaps shut, teeth grinding. Sol turns to the woman.

"Not to worry, Lucinda. We won't be here for long," Sol replies coolly. That's when the woman's scathing gaze passes over me.

I want to disappear, but I'm unable to move. At first, it was Sol's tone towards them that shocked me. I never imagined she could be so vicious. Now Lucinda's judgment has me petrified. As she studies my person, her nose scrunches up more and more, obviously disgusted at my presence. Suddenly, I remember exactly where I am. I'm in the Outlands, a thousand dreams away from home. I don't know the people in this village, and I can't trust them. But, I'm so close to finding Markee I can almost taste it, and that thought alone puts life back into my limbs. I will not let this foul woman deter me.

Just as Lucinda opens her mouth to protest my existence, Sol turns, grabbing my hand.

"I am not done with you!" Lucinda screeches.

"That is not my problem," Sol sneers. With that, we spin, leaving them in the dust.

◊ ◊ ◊

"I see what you meant," I tell Sol as we continue toward our destination. "Those people seemed like such snobs."