Chapter 024

The Surface misleads. Truth lies in darker Depths.

Harker emerged from the alley at an easy pace, a pleased Stillwater at his heels. The straps of his pack weighed at his shoulders, but he felt lighter than ever. The long night was over and the day had truly begun. Clouds scudded over rare blue skies and the sun was warm enough to dispell the chill that lingered near the ground. Morning was well underway, and the thin stream of villagers had turned into a raging river as they funneled toward the market square.

Harker took a deep breath. Despite the poison-wrought ache, it was the breath of freedom. He found himself curiously absent of guilt. There was only relief. For the first time in his life, he’d stopped someone from holding their power over him. Harker wasn’t happy to have killed a person—only the mad would be—but he was happy to have the threat removed and his pack heavier as a reward.

“Headed to the market?” Stillwater hummed to himself, as unseen by the crowds as ever. “Are you sure you don’t want to throttle the innkeep? Perhaps gut the net-mender?”

Harker shot him a look that put the Gilken’s little claws up in the air. “I’m simply offerin’ suggestions. I found this foray quite amusin’, not to mention profitable.” He patted his round belly, smearing blood across his waistcoat.

“Not sure if my pack can hold much more,” Harker muttered beneath his breath, mindful of those that passed by.

“Shouldn’t let that stop a little healthy greed,” Stillwater crunched the last bit of bone, bits flinging from his lips. “But fine. Go see the stone. It’ll help your soul.”

He started walking away and Harker stopped, staring after him. “Where are you going?”

Someone in the crowd turned but shook their head when they realized Harker wasn’t talking to them. Stillwater was already stepping sideways through the growing throng. “I’ll be back.”

Harker wasn’t aware that Stillwater could leave his side. He’d always felt tethered. What had changed?

“Your visit to the murderous shopkeep inspired me, human.” He flicked his fingers toward the Charterstone. “Go, bask in your unwise Bargain, and I’ll return.”

Harker glanced at the Charterstone, and when he looked back, the Eidhrin had vanished into the crowd. He took another breath, bracing his aching lungs. That can’t bode well.

He could have followed the creature, but the persistent ache in his chest suggested otherwise. It was time to see if the Eidhrin’s solution would work.

The Charterstone was hard to miss. It peaked over the top of the thatched buildings, standing at least forty feet tall and made of near-black rock polished to a dull sheen. It dominated the center of the market square, which was only now starting to bustle with activity. The debris from the storm and Threllsnacht festivities had been cleaned up, and eight stalls populated the crowded space, attended to by a bevy of villagers eager for fresh foods and small goods. Harker eyed some of it, thinking a bit bitterly on the dried rations he’d only just acquired. The shopkeep’s storeroom hadn’t had much in the way of fresh produce, and while his dried rations would last far longer and be more of use, something fresh would have been delightful.

I do have a great deal of silver…that I can’t spend. The bars he’d taken from Miriam could buy out the entire market, but that was too much money for someone like him to have in a place like this. It would bring undue attention on him as well. I’d rather they’d forgotten my face by the time they find Miriam’s body.

He sighed and put it from his mind. Going without wasn’t anything new, and Harker was certain he’d be doing a lot of that in the coming months.

A fountain ringed the middle of the market, shaped like three interconnected circles, with the Charterstone rising up out of the very center. The fountain burbled from spigots carved into fishy Aberrant maws, and more than a few people walked up and dipped wooden buckets into its clear depths. It was fed by an underground spring, no doubt, the same one that fueled the minor stream that cut through the far portion of the village. Vale had fountains like it, but they were larger, owing to the Gallant being so close. Vale’s Charterstones were also greater, at least in number, but this one stood out. For a moment, Harker couldn’t place why.

The lines. They were different. Harker wasn’t sure how he could tell, but the certainty was too strong to ignore.

He stepped closer at an angle for a better look, but as he did so, his left arm trembled. Alarmed, he slid up his sleeve, only to see the gold of his Chartermark gleam. It pulsed once, loosing a faint, sonorous ping, and he shoved his sleeve down quickly, glancing around the crowd. No one gave a hint that they’d noticed.

Stranger still was the pressure in his chest. It tugged at his center in time with the rythmic pinging from his arm. Harker put a hand to his sternum, focusing on it. The clay around his reservoir, his Stature, felt as if it were being compressed. It was almost identical to when Stillwater was trying to compel him to action, only this time it was far more passive. A pat on the back as opposed to a shove.

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“Sovereign Sight,” he whispered.

Water gushed through him, scouring against his aching tributary. Harker focused on the flow of it, much as he had with maintaining his three-foot radius, only this time he barely let it leave his palm Lock. Instead, the Water rolled back, across his own body in a wash that tingled his skin. It was almost soothing as it sunk deeper, spreading through muscle and blood like rain-starved soil. Far from an effort, holding his Talent was as easy as breathing. Manual breathing, perhaps, but it filled him in near instants.

His perception expanded. All at once he became aware of the stretch of his skin where scars puckered its surface. The break in his muscles where they’d been torn. The thrum of his heartbeat and gush of blood just beneath. His innards squelched, moist from the eternal wet within him, as his hunger gnawed away at his spine. Bruises and wounds, each swollen as they healed. His unwashed funk.

He grimaced. A bath was necessary, and soon.

Focus on my Stature.