Erador entered the black gates. The rusted mechanism prevented the doors from closing. They were open enough for carriages to fit through. A civilian guard slouched in the watchtower. He would hardly call him a guard. They hadn't had proper protection at the front gate in years. Not that they had to worry about an invasion when this land was rumored to be cursed.

  Erador followed the dirt trail smeared with blood. Two people dragged a deceased deer through town. Followers watched from the side of the road, their mouths parted as if overtaken by the smell of food. They dove at the animal and yanked the limbs. Arguing ensued. Erador picked up his pace.

  The last thing he wanted was for them to pull him apart. Erador’s stomach fluttered with the anxiousness of having to see Lucrethia reduced to this barbaric ritual. The civilians’ faces had slimmed and their clothing was too big.

  Hollow eyes met Erador and he slipped into the back streets. A woman dashed toward him. He pressed his back against the wall, waiting for her to make a move. She ignored him and smiled as she tried to balance the fruit bunched in her dress.

  Unable to process what he saw, Erador moved on. As the shouts dissipated, he kept peering over his shoulder and down every street. The sun shone in the clear sky—perfect weather for lurkers. The perfect time for sunflowers to thrive.

  Erador stopped in front of Sunflower Alley. Every time he tried to get home he ended up here. He backed up. Maybe it was his subconscious wanting him to overcome his fear of this alley. Shivering, Erador touched his shoulder where Slen had marked him again.

  Feet shuffled behind Erador. He swung around as a man hobbled toward him. His clothing was riddled with holes and draped over his thin shoulders. His mouth scrunched and his one eye glared. Erador didn’t make eye contact hoping he would stop staring. The bright yellow in the alley wasn’t inviting but he had nowhere to turn.

  “You,” the man said. Erador’s bones chilled at his gummy voice. “What have you been eating?” His bony finger poked Erador’s stomach.

  “Don’t touch me.” Erador’s threatening tone shook, as his eyes trained on the yellow flowers in his periphery.

  “You seem rather plump. Eating in your manor while we starve?”

  “You think I’m not?” Erador snapped.

  A gurgling grunt bubbled in the man’s throat. “You’re supposed to be helping us.”

  “If times are dire, Judgment no longer has to provide food.”

  “That’s a load of shit! Para whatever, you’re supposed to serve us! Wait until Brother Retribution comes back and sees what you’ve been doing to us.”

  “He’s not coming back,” Erador said, shoving the man’s shoulder. He stumbled back into a wall. “Stop blaming me and find your own damn food.”

  The man’s lip lifted. The few teeth he had left were brown as macaonuts. “I have one eye. My leg is shot. How do you expect me to—” A small brown object whacked the man in the face. He howled, grabbing his eye. “My good eye!”

  A spear-shaped nut dropped on his shoe. Another thudded on the top of his head.

  The man picked it up. “A nut.” He squinted at the sky and shielded his brow. “Bless the Seniths!” He threw his arms up. “Food is falling from the sky.” He shoved the nut in his mouth and picked up the last one.

  Another bounced off the wall and down Sunflower Alley. The man chased after them. Each nut led him further away from Erador.

  Erador searched the roofs of the surrounding buildings finding a hooded person by a chimney. He couldn't help but smile when he recognized Haven. She drew back her slingshot and let go, and a nut shot down the alley.

  “Haven?” Erador said. “Where have you been?”

  Haven fired one last nut and the man disappeared around the corner. She hopped down from the roof onto a barrel. “Foraging for food. If people think their gods are involved, it gives them hope.” She pocketed her slingshot and held out the bag of nuts. “It keeps them calm, for now at least.”

  “Thanks for getting rid of him.” Erador took the bag and ate a nut. He was grateful she had been helping to keep the peace. “How much food have you been shooting?”

  “Nuts, fruit, a hare or two.”

  “Live?” Erador stopped chewing. “You must have sent them on a wild chase.”

  Haven laughed. “They were dead. But... that would have been fun.”

  “This hope won’t last.”

  Haven dragged a loose hair strand behind her ear. “I know, but hopefully it’ll be enough until Judgment recovers.”

  “Right. Speaking of that… I wanted to talk.”

  Haven slid her hand in her pockets and avoided his eyes. Erador’s chest swelled with regret. Now every time he wanted to talk, she would be reminded of when he asked her to spend time with him.

  Cheers erupted in the near distance. He looked at Haven in question and they both followed the sound of chatter on the main road. People passed, juggling sacks and baskets of food. Their once dull voices were vibrant, full of laughter, and tearful joy.

  Erador squeezed through the crowd. Birds clucked in cages, and hogs oinked in wagons. Along main street were crates of fresh produce, sacks of grains, and livestock. People scrambled grabbing what they could carry, but no matter how much they took it was endless.

  “Did you do this?”

  “Not a chance,” Haven whispered. “I don’t have anywhere near this much.”

  The crowd parted. Yuni walked through them, hands tucked in the folds of her purple skirt. Erador’s heart hardened like stone as her gaze pierced him. The people cheered and reached out to brush her arms as she passed. Her smile seemed to lift higher and her poison seeped further into the people’s hearts.

  “You’re a blessing!” A woman reached for her. “And you’re a witch.”

  Yuni took her hand and squeezed it. “It’s my pleasure to help. I hope this will be enough.”

  “It’s more than enough.” A man chuckled and hoisted a sack on his shoulder. “Should last months.”

  Erador kept his focus on Yuni, as the people passed in between them. Her purple lips maintained her sweet smile, but there was a twitch in them. It was fake, the truth hiding behind her forked tongue.

  “Nice of you to join us, Erador.” Yuni moved toward him and plucked the bag of nuts from him. “Save these supplies for the townspeople. I already left some in the manor.”

  Yuni turned on her heel. Erador’s chest heaved. Shade peeled from his shadow as he took a step. A firm hand grabbed his shoulder.

  “Don’t,” Haven said.

  Erador kept tense against her grip.

  “You make a scene now, and you’ll look worse.”

  Erador clenched the folds of his pants. He wanted to wrap his fingers around Yuni’s throat and keep her from spewing her poisonous lies. Haven squeezed into his wound, unaware. Erador winched but didn’t relent. She moved in front of him as Yuni disappeared into the crowd.

  “Erador.”

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  He focused on Haven as her eyebrows drew in worry.

  Erador pulled her to another street. “I need help finding out about her brooch. It might be the only thing I can use to stop her.”

  She gave a firm nod.

  ***

  “Yuni isn’t doing this to be nice. They’re fucking blind. All of them.” Erador leaned against the tree, looking up into the branches. A limb creaked from the weight of the swing. “If I brought food they would think it was poisoned. But a witch...” He raised a finger and paced in front of Haven who rocked on the swing. “A fucking witch can waltz in here and be praised like she cured Morkisens Bumps.”

  “Can you blame them?” Haven kicked her legs forward. “They’re starving.”

  Erador sighed. “It’s how they praise her, like she’s a god. If I present any evidence against her, they won’t believe it. I have nothing except a used teleportation crystal and the Raven being let out.” And Emera. It was like the wind whispered her name or maybe Shade never wanting to let him forget her horrific death.

  Erador rubbed his hands down his face. He had no proof the Raven was here. None of the Paradins had seen him, but maybe it was better that way. “They’ll think I let him out.”

  Frowning, Haven skidded her heels against the ground, halting the swing. He didn't need confirmation. She knew he was right. Everyone hated Erador. His father had trouble hiding that his son was disobedient. Everyone was afraid to say anything in fear of Judgment. But Erador remembered their disapproving expressions when his father wasn’t looking and how the children excluded him from their games.

  He walked to the swing and ran his hand down the rope, remembering the roughness on his cheek as he sat crying alone. The emptiness poured into Erador from the constant rejection. He twisted his hand on the rope and used the burning in his palm to quell his painful childhood memories.

  They didn’t want an outlier; the only Paradin who wouldn't get them to Paradise. What better person to blame for the Raven’s freedom then Erador, who they said would become like him?

  He concentrated on Haven whispering his name to take him away from his angst and looked down. She rubbed her arms. He relaxed his hard gaze, not wanting to drive her away.

  “The Raven used a witch crystal to get out?” she said.

  Erador nodded. Haven lowered her head. Her silence a sign that she was upset. He should have told her. It’s not like he didn’t trust her. He was afraid she didn’t trust him.

  Erador wandered to the trunk and picked bark from the tree to fill the silence. He thought about how Haven said Yuni’s flame could be a soul and how Baubie implied it could dangerous for her to show it. The thought of her bloody wine made him shiver. Vespers were blood thirsty beings that disguised themselves as people. Though it was ridiculous for him to consider that Yuni could be one, Pia claimed to have read documents about creatures disguising themselves as people.

  He let the bark fall from his hand. His stomach grumbled as he sat on the ground. He wanted those nuts but all he could think about was how much bloody wine Yuni consumed. She drank it like she was eating sweets and licked the glass like a dog.

  Yuni did the same in her room several times, when she didn't know he watched. She savored every last drop like she was addicted. Obsessed. But Yuni an alcoholic? She was never drunk or at least didn’t act it.

  “What if… we’re missing something,” Erador said, pulling on a weed.

  “Like what?” Haven said.

  Erador picked up a bunch of pine needles and squeezed them, the tips pocking his skin. He couldn’t say it to her. Admit that he was thinking these things. Though Shade confirmed that is what he smelled, he felt insane and needed to get it out.

  “It’s going to sound… like I’m losing my mind.”

  Haven didn’t respond but he couldn’t look at her. He could feel her eyes on him. He was afraid she would think worse of him.

  “I’m not saying it’s real, but… I think Yuni drank blood.”

  Haven shifted on the swing. “You saw her?”

  “Her wine smells like it.”

  “I’ve heard of people ritually drinking it but not casually,” Haven said. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” Erador said. “I read about these monsters that crave blood and disguise themselves as people.”

  “You really are out of options.”

  Erador narrowed his eyes at Haven who fought a smile.

  “What?” she said. “You’re really considering that she could be a monster?”

  “No,” Erador said, getting up. “I mean… lurkers exist so… maybe they aren’t the only ones.”

  Haven got up. “What are these monsters?”

  “Vespers. They’re from the Senith tales. They crave blood and were made to protect the nocturnal nature god’s throne and his crystal, but they left his realm and came here.”

  Haven didn’t mock him. She just listened, but her long serious stare made his skin crawl. “That sounds like a Tlamehakee.”

  “A what?”

  “The Tlamehakee are creatures that protected my people. They hide their true form as Harians.”

  “Your people have seen them?”

  “I don’t think anyone has for decades.”

  “You think they’re just legends.”

  “I don’t know.” Haven slipped her hands in her pockets and raised her shoulders. “The Tlamehakee drink blood, usually from animals or people willing to give it. But it isn’t all they eat, nor are they always hungry. They disguise themselves, but not to feed. People were afraid of their true form, so they changed to protect themselves and keep peace. We see them as heroes.”

  “Heroes, huh?” Erador said, lip curling. “It’s hard to imagine Yuni as a hero.”

  “To the followers, she already is.”

  Erador wanted to break something for being reminded. Yuni had done nothing except bring them food and that might not have been done cleanly. When the civilians' bellies were full, it was easy to not question her motives. Erador wouldn't take her poisoned food as bribery and ignore that she was here to harm them.

  “Do your legends mention a green flame?” Erador asked.

  Haven shook her head. “I can’t remember.”

  Of course not. Haven came here at ten. It had been more than two decades since then. Erador placed his knee on the swing and kicked off the ground.

  His last option was to ask Baubie about her brooch, but he wouldn't tell him. He shuddered at how Aminria whipped Emera to get answers. Erador wasn't about to relive that experience again. He needed to take a subtle approach but his brain felt overwhelmed like a haze prevented him from seeing the truth.

  Haven frowned and touched his arm but her compassion couldn't help him. Erador got up and ruffled his hair. Yuni a creature? That was like a lurker in the dark. She was a person—a witch. Stopping the swing, he sighed and watched Haven as she leaned against the tree, boot raised on a root as she picked a leaf from her hair.

  “Are these... legends documented anywhere?” he asked.

  Haven’s eyes flicked up. “They might be in my village.”

  “Can you... take me?”

  Haven bit her lip and brushed her fingers down her hair as she walked past him. “I don’t think anything is there. Odinaty destroys history. Anything we did document is likely gone.”

  The faint tremble of her voice sent tingles down his spine. The destruction of her village was more than losing her people. It was her culture, history, traditions, and stories, and Haven had to give it up when she came here. What if Odinaty didn’t destroy it all?

  “Can we—”

  “No,” Haven’s tone snapped like the band of a slingshot, and the resulting pain in Erador’s chest was like a rock had pummeled into it. “I don’t want you to go there.”

  He wanted to respect her wishes but the nagging in his gut kept him on edge. Something could be there, but when he looked at the suffering in Haven’s eyes, he told himself nothing was left. Odinaty destroyed opposing history and religion. He wouldn't let his wishful thinking cause Haven more pain. It’s not as if Yuni was a monster.