Adrian Darling's Arc

Chapter 3 of 3

Adrian folded the buyer's slip into his coat and started east. The road was long and the hunger was worse than the road. By the second night, his hands shook. He smelled every heartbeat through the trees. He told himself he could last. He told himself her face was enough to hold him steady. He came upon a stone arch at the edge of a sleeping village, where travelers paused to rest their feet. Past the arch, a market hall still glowed with low lanterns. A pale blonde boy stood at one of the stalls, counting coins into a baker's palm. Bread for someone waiting at home, maybe. The boy yawned and turned toward the arch, a small loaf tucked under one arm. Adrian meant to step aside. He meant to let the boy pass. But the boy walked under the arch and the smell of him broke something loose. Adrian moved before he could think. He caught the boy by the shoulders and pulled him into the shadow of the stones. The loaf fell. The boy's eyes went wide, then dim. Adrian drank, and drank, and could not stop until the small body in his arms was light as paper. He laid the boy down beneath the arch. The blonde hair stuck to a cold forehead. Adrian's mouth was wet and his hands were steady for the first time in weeks. He pressed the ring to his lips and felt nothing he could name. He had wanted to come to her clean. He stood up and walked east, faster now, carrying a new weight that no road would shake loose.