Soft Landing

The taxi let them out in front of the bed and breakfast they’d be staying at. It was an old stone building, weathered with age, nestled between a copse of trees at the foot of a large rocky hill. The town of Kravisburgh was small but widely spaced. There were no other buildings nearby on the road where the inn was located. Adrian watched as the taxi drove away, kicking up a cloud of dirt behind itself, and gave a look at the rolling green hills of the Scottish highlands. It was easy to imagine they were all alone out there.

Rhys stood at his side, admiring the view, but Christine had already begun to head inside. Adrian followed, Rhys a step behind, and passed through the heavy wooden doorway to the dimly lit interior. The air was heavy, lacking ventilation, and the wooden floorboards creaked under his feet.

A portly man with a gray beard gently swayed on a rocking chair in the inn’s parlor. “You the Parker group?” he asked in a thick Scottish burr.

“That’s us,” Adrian replied.

“Lovely family,” he told them.

“We’re just friends,” Christine corrected him, blushing for some reason. “I don’t have any kids.”

“Ah, well, I wasn’t going to assume. Though the hair would certainly be a mystery!” he laughed. He put his hands on his knees and stood up. “Come on, I’ll show you to your room.”

He led them up a flight of too-steep stairs built from heavy pine wood and thick rusted nails. Their room, one of only three, was at the top. Inside was a quaint, rustic affair: two beds built from natural-looking wood, covered with quilted blankets, and a small chair next to a window that overlooked the rugged green pastures outside.

“This’ll be you,” their inkeeper told them, handing over the room key. “Breakfast’s at nine. You lot like haggis?”

“Never tried it,” Christine answered nonchalantly, though Rhys looked sick.

The inkeeper spotted Rhys's discomfort and laughed. “Only joking. We know foreigners ain’t got the stomach for it. Breakfast’ll be bacon and eggs, no worries there. What are you lot in town for?”

“Hiking,” Adrian replied quickly. “Here to see the nature.”

“Aye, we’ve got some beautiful trails. I’ve got a map downstairs if you need it.”

“We’re fine,” Adrian told him. “We have our own.”

“Alright then. I’ll let you get settled in. Let me know if you need any help getting around town.”

“Will do,” Adrian said.

Every step squeaked as the old man slowly made his way back down.

Christine tossed her luggage on one of the beds, claiming it as her own. “You and Rhys can share that one,” she said.

“It’s alright,” Rhys replied, looking at Adrian. “I can sleep on the floor. I’m sure we can ask for an extra blanket.”

“You’re not sleeping on the floor, Rhys,” Adrian said with a long-suffering tone. “We’ll share. It’s fine.”

“If you say so,” Rhys acquiesced.

Adrian resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He should’ve chosen the damn sword. They could have driven up, stolen it, and driven back all in one day. Instead, he'd decided to fly across an entire ocean and book a three-night stay. His ‘squires’ were beginning to grate on his nerves. “Let’s get down to business,” Adrian said as he shut the door. “Where are we on prospects?”

“There isn’t much here,” Christine began. “There’s a museum of sorts in town. It has a few odds and ends from the Jesuit era. That seems like an obvious lead.”

“Maybe,” Adrian said. “Worth checking out at least. What else?”

Christine continued. “There’s a church a couple of miles past the edge of town. It used to be used for missionary work, but I think it’s abandoned now.”

He shook his head. “No, it’s not the church.”

“There are some caves up in the hills,” Rhys added. “Anything could be hidden up there.”

“It’ll take forever to search a cave complex,” Christine complained. “Why would it even be in there anyway?”

“I don’t know. Maybe they used it as a hideout,” Rhys countered.

“So we just look in every cave in the Scottish highlands?”

“Well, it’s not going to be in the museum,” Rhys snapped. “Adrian said it was lost. If it were that easy to find, we could’ve just bought it from the museum online.”

“Why don’t you let the grown-ups decide what to do?” Christine said. She meant it seriously, which somehow made the comment even more condescending. She and Rhys had been sniping at each other the entire ride from the airport. It was a small mercy that their last-second tickets had at least put them all in different rows during the flight.

Adrian needed some space. “I’m going to walk around a bit and see what’s nearby.”

“I’ll go with you,” Rhys offered cheerily.

“No, that’s fine,” Adrian said. Rhys had been attached at the hip for the whole trip.

“Oh, alright.” Rhys deflated.

“You could make yourself useful and-“ Christine’s words faded as Adrian left the two behind. It was his first time out of the country; he couldn’t believe he had to deal with this shit. When was he ever going to get another chance to visit Scotland again?

Now that he thought about it, though, how much would he have to travel as a knight? It didn't seem likely that Araqiel would care much about human borders. Maybe in a year, he’d be a certified globe hopper. It was a strangely encouraging thought, a much better future than the one he’d thought he was consigned to. But before that could become reality, he’d have to find the cloak.

Adrian lay on the bed, arms folded behind his head and eyes closed. An entire day of searching and nothing to show for it. They’d hit up the museum first. The cloak hadn’t been there. The curator, if you could even call him that, given the paltry collection he managed, hadn't been any help either. They’d asked around town and turned up no leads at all.

Christine lay on the next bed over, nose pressed into a book. She had no interest in talking, and Adrian was glad to oblige her. His mood was sour after the day’s disappointment.

Rhys stepped out of the bathroom dressed for bed. He wore a pair of cotton pajama pants with an oversized black t-shirt, his father’s, if Adrian had to guess. The outfit was probably supposed to hide Rhys’ new figure, but if so, it was doing a poor job of it. The bottoms were clearly purchased before his transformation and were stretched tight around his newly widened hips. The loose shirt obscured the curve of his waist, but his shoulders and chest had grown so narrow that it looked like he was swimming in it; in the end, all it did was draw attention to how slight his build was. And of course, it did nothing to hide the subtle swell of his nascent tits.

Rhys busied himself packing away the clothes he’d worn earlier. He was obviously uncomfortable, and so Adrian did him the courtesy of leaving him alone. But Christine didn’t get the memo.

“So you really didn’t use to look like that?” she asked.

Rhys froze. After a moment, he mumbled, “No. I used to be…normal.”

Oblivious to his discomfort, Christine pressed on. “Seems like a weird thing to do though, doesn’t it?” she asked sceptically. “Why would a demon with the power to transform people use it to shrink your waistline?”

“I don’t know,” Rhys told her. “I just know that it happened.”

Rhys was getting worked up, so when Christine began to ask yet another question, Adrian decided to throw him a bone and intervene.

“Why don’t we focus on what we’re going to do tomorrow?” Adrian asked.

Rhys seized the opportunity to steer the conversation away from his body. “We should look in the caves next.”

“That'll take too long,” Christine countered. “We should prioritize places that we can check quickly.”

“Like where?” Rhys asked, annoyed at being shot down.

Christine shrugged. “We could check out the church.”

Adrian shook his head. “No, it’s not the church. The caves are a better bet.”

“It's a wild goose chase,” Christine complained.

“Well, the cloak’s here somewhere,” Rhys shot back. “We need to be thorough.”

Adrian couldn’t stomach any more of their bickering. He stood up to go take a shower before bed, leaving Christine and Rhys to their own devices. The hot water felt nice; they’d done a lot of walking that day, so Adrian took his time.

When he got out, the lights were off. Adrian quietly crossed the room and slipped into bed, careful not to disturb Rhys’ sleep. The voices grew suddenly agitated. There was something they wanted to tell him, something they wanted him to do, but he was too tired to deal with them. Adrian needed sleep; tomorrow was going to be another long day.