Chapter 109: [109] Et Quidam Qui Protagonistam Agnoscunt
Xavier rounded another corner, lips tightening as the frozen fountain came into view again—third time he’d passed it. He muttered a curse under his breath. Naomi’s scribbled directions were worthless in this tangled maze of Vykengard’s lower districts.
"Third right past the tannery... then second left at the stone wolf," he repeated.
But there are two tanneries. And no stone wolf anywhere.
A dull throb pulsed behind his eyes, pulling his mind toward Hearthome even as his feet wandered these cold, alien streets. The headache wasn’t sharp enough to stop him—just enough to wear down his patience, layer by layer.
The tenth bell had rung nearly half an hour ago. Naomi would be waiting, perhaps growing nervous about his absence. Or worse, thinking he’d abandoned her.
Xavier paused at a crossroads, three equally uninviting streets branching out. The buildings here were packed tightly together, their upper stories nearly touching across the narrow lanes. Few windows showed light at this hour, and the streets were largely empty, most sensible people having retreated from the cold.
He considered returning to The Golden Fox to ask for directions, but quickly dismissed the idea. If Naomi’s employer was as possessive as she’d suggested, drawing attention to her home would only create problems.
A gust of wind came through, carrying stinging snow that made him duck his head. Through the swirling white, Xavier spotted a warm glow several buildings down—not the harsh light of a tavern, but something softer, more inviting.
As he drew closer, he saw it was a tent, oddly placed between two stone buildings. Canvas walls glowed amber from within, and wisps of fragrant smoke escaped from a small opening at the top. A wooden sign hung beside the entrance, painted with symbols he didn’t recognize.
The tent seemed out of place in the permanent architecture of Vykengard, yet it appeared well-established, with a small wooden platform raising it above the snowy ground and sturdy ropes anchoring it against the wind.
The cold made his decision for him. He pushed aside the heavy fabric door and stepped inside.