The Chosen Soul by Heather Killough-Walden

don’t we head back to your farm? We have done what we came to do. Shouldn’t
    we leave the city?”
    Summer shook her head as she strode through the street. “The first thing they would
    do is post guards at the gates. The only time they do so is when they wish to either keep
    someone specific from entering the city, or,” she glanced apologetically at Raven, “when
    they wish to keep someone specific from leaving it.”
    Raven’s head spun. “Are you telling me I’m a prisoner in Trimontium?”
    Summer didn’t answer.
    - 73 -

    Heather Killough-Walden
    Raven cursed under her breath. She didn’t like the idea of being a prisoner, of being
    helpless. Thoughts of hands roughly ripping at her clothes and skin came unbidden to her
    mind. Her stomach clenched and her head began to pound.
    “Raven!”
    Raven turned to Loki. “What?” And then she noticed it – the steam she expelled with
    every breath. Her eyes widened. The temperature was balmy, the climate mild. She was
    producing the vapor in her own fury and fear.
    She drew in a shaky breath and tried to calm her nerves.
    “Just take it easy. Nothing is going to happen to you.” Loki moved closer to her and
    took her gently by the arm. He leaned in to whisper in her ear. “You can control it. Just
    think of something else.”
    Raven nodded silently, trying to concentrate on something besides her possible
    demise. In a few moments, her breath returned to normal, no one but she and Loki the
    wiser. Her brother nodded slowly, smiled sympathetically, and gave her a squeeze before
    releasing her.
    “Here we are. Hurry,” Summer said as she held open the door of a small wooden
    structure crammed between two larger buildings. It’s façade gave the appearance of
    having been built specifically to the dimensions of the inadequate spaces left behind by
    its neighbors. It appeared squished, but its cherry wood exterior looked new and well
    kept. Overhead, a small, brightly painted swinging sign declared “Marrianne’s” to the
    world, and the three of them ducked inside.
    Marrianne’s interior was warm and inviting. In place of a winter’s fire, several
    candles flickered in the corner hearth, lending the establishment a cozy atmosphere. The
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    The Chosen Soul
    smell of fresh baked bread mingled with the aroma of cinnamon in the air. The tavern
    was furnished with several round tables, at which sat numerous people who conversed
    quietly or ate delicious looking food.
    Summer led them to an empty table and they each took a seat. Before long, a lovely
    young woman with flaming red hair appeared beside them, her crisp white apron pulled
    tautly over an overtly voluptuous frame. She smiled warmly at them and introduced
    herself.
    “Good afternoon! Summer, it sure is nice to see you out and about.” She turned to
    Raven and Loki. “I’m Marrianne. What can I get for you three today?”
    Raven instantly liked the woman. For one thing, she was outwardly friendly. But
    more importantly, she did not stare at Raven the way the rest of Trimontium seemed
    determined to do.
    “Marrianne, we would like three of your mid-day dishes. I would have one for every
    meal, if I could afford it.”
    Marrianne laughed, and Raven was reminded of a bottle of champagne.
    “Sweetheart, you just come and help me with my dishes sometime, and I’ll make you
    as much food as you can eat.”
    “Deal!” Summer said, immediately.
    Marrianne’s smile beamed. “It’s settled then. Three mid-day’s, coming up.”
    Raven raised her hand hurriedly. “Wait, please. Marrianne, I would like mine
    without any meat in it, if it’s all the same.”
    The red-headed woman blinked. “No meat?”
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    Heather Killough-Walden
    Raven blushed and shook her head. She’d forgotten what it was like to request such a
    thing. In her village, the people were used to her curious habits. They considered her
    eccentric, but her charisma had won them over long ago, and they’d simply come