Misa Moon's Arc

Chapter 4 of 10

The boots came closer. Misa stood in the doorway with the warm square of window light at her back. The traveler was a bent shape in a dark coat, one arm clutched tight to their chest, the other braced against the wind. They stumbled once, went to a knee, got up. Not walking straight. Not going to make it much farther. Misa turned back into the lodge. The main room was warm and clean. Two mended benches, one long table, a hearth. No beds. No pillows. No back room ready for a stranger who could not stand. She had spent the day building a beacon. She had not spent it building anywhere to lay someone down. "They can't sit up all night," she said. "They're half frozen already." Hades was already moving. They dragged the long table away from the hearth and pushed a bench flush against the wall. "Cushions?" "Cloak. My bedroll. Yours if you'll spare it." She was pulling her cloak from its hook as she spoke. The embroidered constellations flickered in the firelight. Hades unstrapped their pack without a word and shook out a wool blanket. They laid it over the bench. Misa folded her cloak into a pillow at one end. It was not a bed. It was a place a person could survive the night. The fox spirit padded to the door and looked up at her. Small symbols drifted from its tail and settled on the threshold like frost. Misa did not know what the marks did. She trusted them. She grabbed a lantern and went out. The cold hit her chest. She reached the traveler at the bend in the path and got a shoulder under their good arm. They were older than she expected, and lighter. Their lips were gray. "Almost there," she said. "One door. One fire. Come on." Hades met her halfway and took the other side. Together they walked the traveler up the steps and through the door. They set them on the bench by the hearth. Misa pulled off the wet coat. Hades pressed a warmed cup into the traveler's hands and folded their fingers around it. The traveler drank. Color crept back into their face. Their eyes closed. Within a minute they were asleep sitting up, then slumped sideways onto the folded cloak, breathing. Misa sank down on the floor by the hearth. Her raven tattoo sat still on her shoulder. She had not turned anyone away. She had kept a life through the night. She looked at the room. One bench. One blanket. One traveler who had almost died within sight of her door. Tomorrow another one would come, and another. The lodge was a beacon now. A beacon pulled people in faster than a lodge with one bench could hold them. "We need beds," she said. "By tomorrow." Hades nodded once and sat down to keep watch.