I tucked my fingers under my palms, hiding the soot from working in the forge as I frantically tried to replace my diminishing supply of magic charms, having only finished a candle mark ago.
I winced and gave her a tiny smile. I wanted to say more—wanted to stay here forever—but before I could get the words out, she signaled to the driver and the transport shot off with a crack of a whip, sending me flying backward into the cushion. In a swirl of dust, I left the only home I’ve ever known, and I tried to keep the tears from welling in my eyes.
“The Ragnar Mountains are just ahead,” Herst, the driver, yelled back to me.
After two weeks sitting in the carriage, my back and bottom had gone stiff and numb in that order. I had given up on trying to stay clean, as the shades that pulled down did little to keep out the dust of the roads. I used every opportunity to clean myself up as we stopped at the various waystations that spread across the kingdoms. As we passed through Candor, I held back the desire to make a visit to my sister Eden, for I knew if I stopped, I wouldn’t want to continue my journey north. I would find a reason to avoid my duty.
Then the dusty roads turned to mud, the warm fall air slowly chilled as we headed into the mountains. I pulled a scarf out of my satchel and wrapped it around my neck and face as the temperature slowly dropped, pulling on mittens as well to keep my hands from freezing. A light snow fell, and I hung out the window, squinting up at the snowy sky, each flake falling like a puff of a dandelion head.
But the beauty of the snow was paltry compared to the landscape. He drove the horses around a snow-covered copse of trees and a great mountain seemed to sprout out of the white earth like a pillar rising to the sky. And not just any mountain, a dormant volcano that was critical to production of the mines. Even now, I could see great spirals of smoke that trailed from the various magic-made fissures to release the pressure of the volcano. Farther east, nestled in the mountain range a safe distance away, was a castle made of enchanted stone.
I knew that a great colony of dwarves once lived under the Ragnar Mountain. Their skin was thick and could withstand the heat as they dug deep, forging their highly sought-after armor and weapons, but that was over a hundred years ago. Something had gone wrong. The entire underground city was destroyed. The few dwarves that were left moved closer to the castle or settled on the lower plains.
I shivered, dropping the shade back into place and pulling my thin cloak tighter around my body, snuggling further into the darkness of the cabin to stay warm. The northern part of Kiln was nothing but snow. The kingdom spent most of the year cloaked by a white frozen blanket, and its people still thrived as they relied on the magic of salamanders to stay warm.
The transport slowed as we came into the small village of Verdan. I couldn’t hold back my excitement at the change in the scenery. The houses had peaked roofs painted in various bright colors. Women walked the streets wearing fur hats and muffs over thick, colorful wool coats. Many of the villagers used sled pushcarts to do their work, and children with ice skates on their feet let their oversized dogs pull them around on the streets.
The transport pulled up to a small inn no bigger than a house. Light spilled from the windows and smoke billowed out of the chimney, creating a warm and inviting environment. A placard covered in snow had a silhouette of a goat, announcing our location, the Goat Head Inn. Herst dismounted, walked the horses around to the inn’s back stables, and I cried out in delight when I saw the furry creatures that were happily eating hay in their stalls.
Reindeer.
“We’ll stay here for the night, and tomorrow I’ll swap out the horses and rent the reindeer to take you the rest of the way. They’ll be sure-footed and safer on the mountain pass.”
I nodded, not unhappy with the decision at all. I had already stepped out and had made my way over to the first stall, reaching my hand forward and letting the reindeer sniff me . His fuzzy lips brushed across my palm, searching for food.
“Sorry, I don’t have any treats for you, girl,” I said. The very domesticated reindeer leaned forward as I brought my hand up to scratch at the base of her antlers.
“Seems you know your reindeer,” a voice cracked with age spoke from over my shoulder.
I turned in surprise to see a faun, whose bark-colored horns curved back over his head like a ram. He words a gray wool jacket over his torso, and his hair was a mix of brown and gray, matching his long beard, while spotted fur covered his hooved legs.
“I know what I’ve read in books,” I said. “All the males would have already lost their antlers for the winter.”
“Correct. Very good for an outsider.” The faun handed me a carrot and immediately the reindeer snatched it out of my hand. “Holly, knock it off,” the faun teased the reindeer. He turned to address me. “I’m Fezik Fleetfoot, and this is my inn.”
“Nice to meet you, Fezik. I’m grateful for your hospitality.” I shivered as I stood out in the open without a thick cloak.
“Well, you’re going to freeze to death if you don’t get inside. My wife, Taffy, will have my head if I don’t see to you.” With the agility of a goat, Fezik jumped onto the back of the transport to unlatch my trunk.
“No need to bring the entire trunk in. I only need a few things.” I released the strap and opened my trunk, shifting the items around. “Hold these.” I handed him a stack of books and a set of chisels and then more books as I grabbed an extra nightdress.
Fezik raised a curious eyebrow. “Most ladies pack essentials, like clothes. You’re the first I’ve met that cared more about books and tools than undergarments.”
“Books are the essentials,” I grumbled, snagging my prized chisel set from his hands. I placed it back in the trunk and gathered the rest of my belongings. I had packed it all without mother knowing. I’d panicked earlier, thinking mother would have looked inside to see that I had only brought one spare dress and nightclothes. The rest was stuffed with everything out of my workshop, and books. Lots of books. Which I was now regretting, having underestimated how cold Kiln would be.
“Nothing in there is going to keep you warm against the blizzard.”
“I may have slightly underestimated the weather in Kiln—a bit.” I pinched my fingers together.
“A bit?” he laughed.
“Okay, a lot.”
Fezik chuckled. “We have a wool, fur-lined cloak that a guest left behind. You can have that until you get to the market tomorrow to shop.”
“That sounds wonderful.”
Fezik took me through the back door of the inn, handing me the cloak that was hanging on a hook. It fit perfectly, and I thanked him, appreciating the warmth. Following him, we came into the kitchen. He gestured for me to sit down at the table. When I did, his wife turned in surprise and gave me a warm smile. She was golden in hair and fur, her horns shorter and turned outward. “Welcome to Goat Head Inn.” She pushed a bowl of soup and fresh bread toward me.
“Thank you.” The soup was vegetarian, filled with mushrooms, leeks, celery, and a few tubers I wasn’t familiar with. “This is delicious.”
She grinned and set down a wooden cup filled with a spiced cider. “This should warm you up from your travels.”
My gaze drifted through the kitchen and I took in the height of the lowered sink and tables, perfect for the shorter fauns. Lavender, basil, mint, and oregano hung on the drying rack above the table. The aromatic smells reminded me of home. Just beyond the kitchen was a sitting room and a bigger table for more lodgers. I seemed to be their only guest.