Before long, an entire crowd had gathered around them. Vir found several familiar faces. All of them people who had given him a hard time, throwing rocks at him or siccing their bandies upon him. Now, they looked at him with deference.
Vir wanted to be angry. He wanted to feel smug at having turned the tables on them. He’d experienced a larger world. They were stuck here. He’d grown while they’d stagnated.
But all he felt was emptiness. To sneer at them felt… hollow. Petty. He couldn’t bring himself to hate them or pity them.
What concerned him the most was the absence of Maiya’s parents. As the head priest, Apramor was the one who usually greeted new strangers.
Instead, another man made his way forth. He sported an enormous handlebar mustache and blading black hair. It was a face Vir knew all too well.
“Greetings, strangers! I am Akros, the leader of this humble village. How may I assist you?”
Leader? Vir thought, panicking. Maiya tightened her grip around his waist.
Vir searched the crowd for any signs that they recognized Vir or Maiya, but saw only veiled curiosity.
“Erm, ser?” Akros repeated. Vir had been so shocked by the polite gazes that he’d forgotten to reply.
“Leader?” Maiya said from behind him, her voice an octave lower than usual. “I thought this village was led by a priest? A holy man by the name of Apramor?”
Hushed whispers broke out in the crowd, and Vir did not miss the scowl that passed briefly over Akros’ face.
“I am afraid that there has been a change in leadership lately. I am the leader now,” Akros said testily. “And who might you two be?”
“Apologies. Where are our manners?” Vir replied. “My name is Barid Daruk, and behind me rides my brother, Bakura Daruk,” Vir said, emphasizing their last name. “We are on business for our father, a merchant of some renown operating out of Daha, bound for the Viridian Coast. We seek accommodations for the night in your village. Would you have us?”
Everyone’s attitude flipped the moment he mentioned his last name. Only the Sawai had last names, and a ’risto arriving at Brij was an event. Vir was sure the villagers would gossip for weeks to come.
“My family would be honored to host you, my esteemed friends,” Akros said, lowering his head. His son Camas—one of Vir’s worst bullies—stepped up and similarly lowered his head as well.
“How quickly the winds shift,” Vir muttered again.
Akros raised his head. “Sorry, what was that?”
Vir glanced at Maiya before responding. “We accept your generous offer. You have my gratitude and the gratitude of my family.” His words came smoothly, despite the tumult of emotions that raged within him.
Being invited to sleep in the home of the one who tormented him so much felt all sorts of wrong, but Vir couldn’t deny the man without a good reason. And though it may not have mattered much, Akros hadn’t snitched on Vir when he’d been interrogated by the knights. That one action didn’t erase the man’s wrongdoings, but it helped.
Vir and Maiya dismounted and guided Bumpy, following Akros and Camas, leaving the throng of people behind. The sun had just slipped beneath the horizon, and tenders were going around charging the Magic Candle streetlamps.
The village looked largely the same as it had when Vir left it. Places like Brij remained static over the years, so not much was bound to change after such a short time. At least, it shouldn’t have changed.
While the structures and the people were the same, the atmosphere was not. Vir couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but there was definitely something different about the vibe. It was slight, and only a resident would have picked up on it, but the Brijers were on edge and more jittery than he remembered.
Vir shot Maiya a glance. She nodded back—she’d felt it as well.
“Tell me about this leadership change,” Vir said, engaging Akros in conversation on the way to his home. Vir knew the way, of course, but pretended like this was his first time visiting. “I was under the assumption that villages like these rarely saw changes in leadership. Did the previous leader fall ill?”
Akros glanced briefly at Vir, and he thought he saw a hint of panic in the man’s eyes.
“The prior leader… our priest, he is gone now.”
“Gone?” Maiya pressed. Though Akros may have found the topic distasteful, he couldn’t brush off a Sawai aristocrat, and Maiya knew that.
“He committed a grave crime and was taken away. Nobody knows where.”
“His wife, too. Serves her right,” Camas replied from beside his father.
Vir squeezed Maiya’s clenched fist. She got the message and wiped the frown from her face, but she continued to fidget.
“Camas! Tend to their Ash’va,” Akros ordered, turning his attention to Vir and Maiya.
“Is something the matter? Your brother looks ill.”
“Ah, he’s always like that,” Vir said, covering for Maiya. “Weak constitution, you see?”
“I see, I see. Please, welcome to my home,” he replied, ushering them inside. “I am afraid that ours is a poor village. I pray that my humble accommodations do not offend your refined sensibilities.”
“Not at all,” Vir replied smoothly, his eyes sweeping across the modestly sized house. This was his first time stepping foot inside, and it was far nicer than he’d expected. “Rather, we are thankful to have a bed at all tonight. We were worried we would have to sleep under the stars.”
“Is… something the matter?” Akros said, looking at Maiya.
Vir turned to see Maiya fixated on the dining room table. An ornate, six-person table that seemed entirely out of place next to the other, more modest furnishings.
“That’s a fine table you have there,” Maiya said, brushing her fingers over it.
Why would she be so interested in—wait…Where have I seen that before?
“Ah, yes!” Akros said. “A recent acquisition. I am pleased it is to your liking. I am quite proud of it myself!”
“I’m sure,” Maiya said with pursed lips.
Vir’s stomach sank.
It’s the table from Maiya’s place!
“And here you are,” Akros said, guiding them to a guest room. “I’m afraid I have but a single bed to spare. Will it be too much to ask you to share a bed with each other?”
Vir waved away his concerns, playing his role perfectly, despite the blood that boiled within his body. “Not at all, thank you.”
Maiya locked the door the moment they were inside. “That dining table was ours, Vir. He stole it from our house!”
“I know,” was all Vir could say in response.
“I have a bad feeling about this. We have to find out what happened to my parents. We need to go to my house. Right now.”
Vir shared Maiya’s worry, and a knot formed in his stomach. He couldn’t shake the small voice in the back of his head.
The one that played Riyan’s words to them over and over on a loop.
You may not like what you find…
“Let’s go.”
56IMMORTAL
Vir took the lead, navigating through Brij’s streets. While Maiya knew the village as well as he did, she didn’t have the benefit of Prana Vision. Especially useful for maneuvering around piles of Ash’va dung, of which there were many. And while the main road was well lit, the alleys had far more darkness than light, with the rare Magic Candle placed haphazardly by whoever lived nearby.
Vir soon found his usual route to the temple, leading Maiya down a series of familiar alleys. Nothing had changed, and yet, it felt like everything had changed. Neither he nor Maiya would ever be welcomed back here again.