Lux [h.s]

twenty-eight

Cora lay down on the mattress, letting out a hopeless sigh. Another day had passed and the last night of the Fair in Caloir had come and gone. Now, everyone was busy getting ready to leave. The Pavilion had already been taken down, and for some reason it saddened her, even though she knew it was all part of the process. She would end up seeing the Fair again and again in the following months, it wasn't like it'd been when it'd left her city, back when she'd still believed she'd stay behind.

Harry was too busy to spend time with her so he'd told her to stay in the wagon—and out of trouble. She couldn't hold it against him, since she seemed to have a talent for getting herself into unfortunate situations as of late.

They'd be leaving soon, and even though she knew she was supposed to be thrilled, she couldn't find that excitement inside her. Something didn't feel right in her heart. The longer she followed the Fair, the farther away she would be taken from Beilyn—the one place she'd called her home for so long. Was it right to leave it forever just like that, with no parting word of goodbye? It didn't feel like it was.

Cora quickly sat up when an awful idea came to her.

After all, if there was anyone in the world that could help her make sense of the weird memory that had resurfaced in her mind the day before, it had to be her aunt.

Would it be that bad to ask Harry to let her see her just one more time before leaving for good?

"I can see you thinking."

Cora looked up and jolted when she discovered that Harry was standing in the frame of the door. "I was wondering..." she started when she calmed down, but let her voice drift away as her resolution crumbled. How could she ask him for this, after all he'd done for her? It wouldn't be a short trip back to Beilyn, and she couldn't slow down the Fair.

He sighed. "Why are you so afraid to speak your mind?"

"I'm not."

Harry cocked his head, a faint smile on his lips, and crossed his arms. "Then why did you stop talking?"

Cora bit the inside of her cheek. It unsettled how easily he could read her. "I want to go back to the hostel. I need to talk to my aunt." She gave him a challenging look, daring him to turn her down.

"Is it important?"

"Very important."

He turned his head to the open door behind him. "Get two horses ready, Arnold," he shouted out. "I'm taking Cora somewhere."

Cora sent him a confused look. "We're going right now?"

Harry nodded. "If we go straight through the greenwood, it should take about seven hours to go back to Beilyn. If we leave now we'll be back tonight." After a moment of hesitation, he took off his coat and swapped it with a cloak of a deep, dark colour that wasn't quite black, brown nor grey. "I'll let you get ready."

He walked out, and, after a moment spent staring in his wake, Cora jumped off the bed and changed her clothes.

The weather was getting colder with every passing day, and there was a sharp scent of ice and burnt wood in the air that morning. Cora curled up in her cloak as soon as they got on the horses, her breath a plume of vapour in front of her face. If she'd still been in her hometown, she would've been sitting in front of the fireplace baking cookies with thick shards of chocolate with her Mrs. Bouday by now. If she closed her eyes, she could smell it—the cookies baking in the stone oven, filling the living room with the scent of sugar and chocolate. More cookies waiting on trays on the table, her aunt's low voice as she spoke about their plans for winter, the creak of the old armchair every time she shifted in it, the shivering candlelight from the opposite side of the room glinting off the glass covers, the tap tap of birds coming to their window to eat the breadcrumbs her aunt left on the windowsill.