The Stowaway

Reagan awoke to a loud rapping on his door. He bolted upright, heart pounding, and looked for Liam before his eyes had adjusted to the light.

Liam, perched on the edge of his bed, shared Reagan’s confusion. “Do you want me to check who it is?” he asked, nodding toward the door.

Reagan shook his head and motioned for Liam to remain seated as he walked over and opened the door.

And was greeted by the innkeeper. The man’s usually friendly face was pulled into a frown. “It’s time for you to leave, Alois,” he said. “This room’s booked.”

Reagan nodded instinctively, and turned to retrieve his satchel, sword, and coat, but froze. I never gave him my name. “How did you know-”

“News travels fast in a small town, and your kind isn’t welcome here.” Although his tone was stern, confliction danced in his eyes. As he turned away from Reagan, he said, “Word of advice, kid? It’s not too late for you to make a fresh start. Don’t make a decision now that will cost you for the rest of your life.”

Reagan held back a scoff. It’s too late for that, he thought, but didn’t voice. For once, he was glad Liam couldn’t see his face.

Reagan could have sworn every townsperson was looking at him with contempt when he left the inn, even though none actually made eye contact with him. He kept his head down, pushing the collar of his coat up so he could conceal part of his face, but that didn’t do anything to alleviate the weight descending into the pit of his stomach with each step.

“What are we going to do now?” Liam asked. He hovered beside Reagan, looking left and right at all the people milling about town.

The town was even busier in the morning than in the afternoon, and Reagan was jostled more than once by men and women rushing past him. Nobody offered an apology or stopped to check if he was alright, even as one of them caused him to trip.

He caught himself on the wall of a butcher’s shop. Liam was the only person who’d tried to catch him, and the only one who couldn’t.

Unable to think of another option, Reagan made his way to Killian’s, where he was greeted with a glare as he entered the store.

“I’m not buying anything more from you,” the man said, crossing his arms.

“I was hoping to buy-”

“And I’m not selling ya nothing either. Leave.”

Reagan backed out, his heart sinking heavily in his chest. Turning, he aimed for the general store, where the clerk also glared at him, but didn’t order him out.

The only map he found was cruder than the one he’d brought from home. It showed Louthe in moderate detail, but only gave cardinal directions and a vague estimation of the distance to the next town over. It didn’t even mention his home village. It’ll have to do, he thought.

“That’ll be one silver and two coppers,” the clerk said, regarding Reagan with disgust.

“But the price tag said-”

“That’s for customers, not for scum. One silver and two coppers, or I’ll call the mercenaries and tell them you’re shoplifting.”

“I’ll put this back then,” he said and started to turn away.

The clerk reached over the counter to grab his arm, gripping tight. “I saw you look through it. You use it, you buy it.” She repeated the price for a third time and held out her free hand.

Seeing no other choice, Reagan gave her the coins and took the map with him as he left the store. He felt every gaze on him as he walked out, and several glared at the store as though believing his presence had tainted it.

“I’ll direct you to the exit,” Liam said, flying up high above Reagan’s head. He shot a worried glance down before moving out of earshot and surveying the town from his vantage point. After making sure Reagan was looking, he pointed south, past where the unfriendly town hall sat.

Reagan walked with his head down, avoiding looks from passersby. He only glanced up to ensure Liam was still safely above him and to check the direction he was indicating.

Their journey through the town proved arduous. The once pleasantly warm air was now stifling. The friendly townspeople had turned into possible enemies, as more than one tried to stomp on Reagan’s feet as he passed them, or purposely changed their trajectory to jostle him. By the time he saw the tall wooden wall looming ahead, Reagan was too drained to feel relieved.

“There’s mercenaries outside the wall,” Liam said, dropping to walk by Reagan’s side. “Do you think they’ll let you out?” A worried frown crossed Liam’s face.

I don’t think they’d want to keep me in, Reagan thought, but he couldn’t voice it with the throng of people nearby, so he offered Liam a small shrug and shake of his head.

Still, his own reassurances failed to calm his racing heart, and he held his breath as he squeezed through the narrow space. The men on either side looked at Reagan, but neither spoke or moved to stop him, and he was able to cross the forest line without incident.

Once safely into the trees, Reagan let out a sigh. It was then that he realized how hard he was shaking, and he shoved his hands into the pockets of his blue coat, hoping Liam wouldn’t notice.

But, of course, he did.

“We can still return home,” Liam said, pretending to walk at Reagan’s side. His feet never touched the ground, even when the blanket of leaves reached up to lick the bottoms of his shoes. “Explain how dangerous it is to Mom and Dad. They’ll understand.”

Reagan tried to scoff, but the sound was unconvincing. “You’re in more danger than I am,” he said. “All the townspeople did was shun me. Nobody attacked me.” Not like how you were almost attacked. “Besides, I’ll just use a different excuse next time, and that won’t happen.”

Liam looked unconvinced, but he didn’t press the matter any further. “I’ll scout ahead for monsters.”

“Stay high and out of reach,” Reagan said. Ever since they’d left Louthe, and even before they walked through the wall opening, a knot had formed in the pit of his stomach. Not for the first time, he had the feeling of being watched. “One of the townspeople may have followed us out,” he said. He slowed his pace and rested his hand on the pommel of his sword, casting a look around for the culprit.

Seeing nothing, he continued walking forward while Liam scouted for monsters and directed him away from them, making a twisted and winding path through the forest.

By midday, the feeling of being watched had only grown stronger, the knot in Reagan’s stomach tighter. With a silent nod to Liam, he sent the ghost up high again and walked a few steps before spinning around with his palm on the pommel of his sword.

A glimpse of purple darting behind a tree was all he needed to identify their stalker.

“Don’t come any closer,” Reagan ordered, brandishing his weapon and pointing it at the medium.

“Please,” she said, clasping her hands out in front of her as she came forward, brown eyes wide and fearful. She stopped a few meters from the tip of Reagan’s sword. “I swear, I won’t hurt either of you.” With a shaking hand, she took the black ring off her finger and held it out to Reagan. “You can hold on to this -- it’s how I send spirits away. Without it, I can’t do anything but talk to them, I promise.” When Reagan didn’t respond, she added, “Please, I need to get out of Louthe, but I can’t afford to hire a mercenary, and I won’t make it on my own.” She flinched as a breeze rustled the leaves above her head.

“Rea-Alois, maybe we should reconsider,” Liam said, coming back down. “It’ll be dangerous for her to head back on her own. I’ve already seen more monsters here than on the other side of Louthe.”

Reagan held his sword for a few seconds longer before giving in and lowering the blade. “Keep your ring,” he said. I can’t risk that touching the tether. “Just don’t wear it.”

She nodded eagerly and pulled a necklace out from beneath the collar of her dress, removing it to loop the ring beside a small bronze locket before tucking it back in. “Thank you, you won’t regret this,” she said with a bright smile. “My name’s Elisa,” She offered a hand.

“Alois, and this is Liam,” Reagan said. Reluctantly, he shook her hand before turning away to tread deeper into the forest.