He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. Brom ran a hand down his face and dressed before he walked outside. Hues of purple and pink streaked across the sky as dawn approached. He walked to the stream and let the soothing sounds of the water running over rocks calm his racing heart. Only then did he allow himself to think back to the dream.
The woman was…striking. She had an oval face, large eyes, and plump lips. With her clear, blue eyes, golden hair, and pale skin, she appeared ethereal. Until he saw the double swords she carried. He didn’t know who the woman was or why he needed to find her.
Brom let his gaze move over the area. He had ventured away before, but he hadn’t stayed gone long. Nothing held him to this place anymore. Hadn’t for some time. He wasn’t sure why he remained, other than the fact that it was home. Now, it appeared as if he was going to leave.
And he wasn’t sure if he would come back.
To be honest, he wasn’t certain of anything but that he needed to find the woman. He didn’t know where she was, didn’t know why he needed to find her. Nor did he know her name. Or what he would do once he located her. Brom debated going up the mountain to his cave to see if he could discover something more, but a feeling within prodded him not to waste time.
He squatted next to the stream and splashed the frigid water on his face. Then he straightened and returned to the cottage. It didn’t take him long to gather the items he would need for his journey. With his cloak clasped around him, he hefted the bag over his head to wear across his body before walking out the door.
Brom waited until he was at the top of the hill before he looked back. The last time he had set out on a journey, he had been just a lad. His mother had stood outside the door of the cottage that spring day and gave him a wave and a smile. Still, he had seen her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
Eventually, he had returned. This time, he had a feeling that wouldn’t be the case. The cottage nestled in its small glen next to the stream had been a glorious place to grow up. They rarely had visitors, but he hadn’t cared. He had the wilds of Scotland to roam, animals to play with, and the freedom with which to do it all.
Those days had been simple. But they were long gone.
Brom drew in a deep breath. “Farewell,” he murmured before he continued walking.
He hadn’t chosen a direction. Instead, he let the magic within guide him. His pace was steady, and his strides long. He gave the nearest village a wide berth since he didn’t want to see anyone. He had to go into town on occasion, and each time, at least one person asked him how it was that he could live alone. No one understood that he preferred his company to that of others.
At noon, he paused to rest near a tree and ate a quick bite. The sky was filled with clouds, warning him that more snow was likely on the way. He didn’t mind the cold. There was something soothing about being surrounded by all the glittering whiteness. However, his favorite was watching the snow fall or see flurries that danced upon the air as if they were fairies.
His thoughts took him once more to the woman from his dream. The voice he’d heard in his head was female, but he didn’t think it belonged to the one he searched for. There was so much unknown about the entire situation. Most others would’ve ignored the things prompting him and forgotten all about the dream.
But he wasn’t most people. He was half-Varroki. It was a part of himself he’d learned to keep secret. He had thought to seek out the Varroki and learn his magic, but he didn’t regret not finding them. The path that he had taken was the one he was supposed to be on. And while he might not have formal training, he had garnered enough knowledge to ensure that no one messed with him.
After he ate, he packed away his food and waterskin, then climbed to his feet. When he set out again, instead of continuing east, he turned slightly right and walked more south. The farther he traveled, the more he realized that something was wrong. It was as if the balance of the Earth had shifted.
He couldn’t pinpoint what was wrong, but something was definitely off. The next time he spotted a village, he decided to take a closer look. Instead of people milling about or standing around conversing, the streets were deserted—except for some chickens, a couple of goats, and a cat.
Brom stood at the outskirts of the town and let his gaze move from building to building. Smoke billowed out of chimneys, so he knew people were there. And it wasn’t the cold that kept them indoors. Scots embraced the winter months. No, something else had them huddling inside their homes.
Brom didn’t venture farther into the village. He walked to the next one, and the next, and the next. All of them were the same as the first. Finally, he stopped at the fourth town. It was nearing dusk anyway. He’d thought to sleep outdoors, but the way to learn what was going on somewhere was to visit a pub and rent a room for the night.
A dog barked in the distance, and a cat ran across his path while chasing a mouse. The somberness of the village would have given anyone reservations about staying. Brom made his way to the pub and entered. The moment he stepped inside, every eye in the room turned to him as all the patrons fell silent.
He ignored them, shutting the door and leaving the cold behind him. Brom noted that the pub was nearly completely full with a roaring fire in the hearth. It wasn’t filled with music and laughter, but instead whispers and fearful looks. He walked to the bar and nodded at the man behind it.
“Not many travelers nowadays,” the man said in greeting.
“I’ve noticed. Do you have a room available for the night?”
“Take your pick,” he said with a shrug.
Brom spotted an empty table in the back corner. “I’ll have an ale and whatever you have to eat.”
The man nodded and turned away. Brom walked to the table and removed his bag to set it on the floor before he unclasped his cloak and hung it on a nearby hook on the wall to dry. Once he was seated, he let his gaze slowly run over everyone. Most of those inside were older and leaned forward so others couldn’t hear their whispered words.
A woman set down his ale. Before Brom could reply, she was gone. He lifted the cup to his lips and drank heartily. The ale warmed him as much as the heat of the room. Fortunately, he didn’t have long to wait for the stew placed in front of him.
“Why is everyone talking in whispers?” he asked the barmaid as he jerked his chin to the others.
She swallowed nervously. “Do you not recognize fear?”
“I do, but what could keep everyone inside? Is it wolves?”
“If only,” she said beneath her breath.
Now, he was intrigued. “If it isn’t an animal, then it must be a person.”
The maid glanced over her shoulder to the owner of the pub. “You better hope you don’t run into her.”
Her. Unease ran through him. “What woman is this that I should be afraid of?”
“Keep your voice down,” she admonished as she anxiously looked about to see if anyone had overheard.
“They’re too busy talking to hear me.”
Her thin lips flattened as she looked back at him. “I shouldn’t talk about it.”
Brom held up two coins. “Will this help?”
She didn’t hesitate to try and snatch them from his fingers.
He tsked as he pulled them away before she could get them. “First, you talk. Then, you get the coins.”