Chapter 5: Stationary

The next day we landed at another town, smaller than the previous. There was still the feeling of energy that came with being under the envelope of a prosperous empire. I was somewhat nervous, considering the town was a territory of the main branch of my family. But the local lord wouldn’t be wandering around the canal landing. And even if they did…

“Wearing your hood down today?” Clara asked. The nosy woman had been hounding me for the past day, asking all sorts of intrusive questions. I merely nodded in response, trying not to tremble too much at just how exposed I felt.

I’d always wear a cloak, hood up, when going about town. The occasional person recoiling when they saw my shadowy visage encouraged me all the more to keep my face hidden. Even in the height of summer, with the air thick as mud and commoners dropping like flies to the bad air of the city, I’d still go about in a cloak, just made of light cotton rather than wool. But in the crisp air of fall, wool served me more than well.

Except if I was trying to avoid capture my best strategy was, strangely enough, to walk about with my face exposed. If they had circulated a description of me, which was likely, they’d surely mention my tendency to keep my face shrouded. It would be more effective than providing a physical description, since few outside of the upper crust of society had seen my face uncovered. Quite frankly my most defining trait to others was my avoidance of them.

And if they had circulated an actual description, or a sketch, it would likely be out of date. The magic had changed me. I looked at least half a decade younger, and with the healthy complexion I had never possessed before that book cursed me with magic. The woman they’d be looking for would be gaunt, hooded, and shying away from the light and the people who occupied it. Not a healthy looking girl of sixteen traveling with boatmen and an adventurous red-head.

I was much safer out in the open. Now if only I could get my quivering heart to agree.

“You had said earlier that you had wanted to make a few stops?” Clara asked? I again nodded.

I had come to a realization, as I had futilely tried to study the text. Something stopped me from recognizing what was written there. It was in an alphabet I could read, I could remember individual letters from it, but as soon as I attempted to put them into words my mind just blanked. It wasn’t, as I had initially assumed, in an unreadable text.

“Where should be go first?” She must be assuming that I would just blindly accept her company. I absolutely would, since the though of telling her not to follow me was terrifying enough that my vision would start to blur if I thought too much on it. Plus, again, safety in numbers.

So instead I just muttered.

“Stationers.”

“Right, I’ve been here enough that I think I know the way. It’s right on the main street.” She turned off from where the boatmen were going, a nearby tavern, and went further into the town. It was still bright out, but dusk was already approaching.

Despite the coming dark the main stretch was bustling, with lamp-lighters beginning their work of ensuring the thoroughfare was lit for the throngs of pedestrians. There was a chill to the air, but one that urged the crowd to action, preparing for the upcoming harvest festival. The stationer’s was halfway down the lane.

A bell rang as we entered, the delicious scent of paper and ink and leather enveloping us. It helped, slightly, with my nervousness of walking around with my face naked for all to see. I took in the warm shelves filled with sheets of paper, jars of ink, feathers, wax, and the other paraphernalia of writing. I felt my heart relax, until the proprietor spoke.

“Can I help you with anything?” The bespeckled older man looked up from a book. I froze.

“…”

“Yes, miss?”

“N-notebook.” I couldn’t read the magic book, but I could identify individual letters. The book possessed some sort of magic so, maybe, all I had to do was remove the individual letters from the book. It would be tedious to be sure, but if I could get the letters to were I could read them then I could at least confirm the contents.

“Anything else?” I squeaked, and instinctively hid behind Clara. Normally I could at least interact with shopkeepers, but the added fear of being caught compounded my already troublesome disposition. I ended up whispering my requests to Clara, and ended up filling most of the remaining space in my pack.

A thick, leather-bound notebook, larger than the mysterious magical text was the most important and painfully expensive purchase I made. I had grabbed plenty of coin when I fled, but it was hardly like I was bringing in more wages. Second most expensive was a handsome traveling ink-well, blown glass with a brass exterior case. I also purchased a leather-bound glass flask with further ink, which I was assured was well made and would not burn through the paper for longer than I’d draw breath. That was a danger, with older documents made with iron-gall ink.

Along side that was a sand-pot, pen knife, and two dozen well-tempered goose feathers. I had been tempted by a steel-nibbed pen, but quills worked fine enough, and were easily replaced. Lastly, I got a fine silver lead-holder and a hard lead for layout work. I didn’t know what my journey would throw at me, but I might have need to write even when using an inkwell would be impossible.

We left the stationer’s shop, my purse significantly lighter, and head out into the street. I must admit, despite my disposition I was rather pleased with my purchases. Who doesn’t like a fresh new notebook to play with? It may be a luxury well above what the common man can regularly afford, but the scent of new paper was satisfying in a different manner to that of my beloved old books.

I was so distracted by the happy glow of writing supplies that I barely registered when Clara spoke about wanting to check the town’s bulletin board. It was several doors down, by the post office. But my smile was soon wiped off my face.

On the bulletin board, staring right back at me, was my face. Rather, my face before I awakened to magic. It was a fair likeness; the engravers must have worked overtime to get this handbill out here so fast.

“Scary one, isn’t she.” One of the townspeople said to a companion. “Wouldn’t want to run into her in a dark alleyway, that’s for sure. Ladies.” He tipped his hat towards Clara and I before heading towards a nearby restaurant. A date, perhaps, or a husband and a wife gawking at the description of a horrid witch before getting a bite to eat.

Clara looked closer at the poster, and read aloud. “’Wanted: Dead or Alive. Evelyn, formerly of the Lee family, for the crimes of magic and assaulting the Imperial Blood. Reward: 500 Marks.’ Damn that’s a lot. ‘Suspected to be traveling alone, she is believed to be highly dangerous. Lesser rewards payed for information leading to her capture or death. Twenty-one years old, she has brown hair, hazel eyes, and a pale complexion.’”

She paused a moment.

“That guy was right, I can’t imagine what would happen if someone ran into her in a dark alleyway.”

“I-indeed. Scary.” I managed to reply, thankful that the magic of the book had changed my appearance. A man greeted me politely in front of my own wanted poster! It truly was scary. It was almost as shocking as it was novel that a man greeted me politely upon seeing my face.

“Well, should we continue on? For someone who wants to explore the wilderness you sure failed to properly prepare for it.” She offered her arm to me, like an escort for a noble lady. Despite myself, I took it.

“S-sure.” More funds were soon to be lost to the local merchants but she was right. There was no way I could carry the provisions and my belongings with my current small pack. So off to the outfitters we went.