“You're such a pretty elf, though,” Nador said, grinning.
Iefyr scowled. “Don't do that. Don't mock me.”
“I'm not mocking. I'm serious. I find you a hundred times more attractive than any full-blooded elf. Ten times more than any full-blooded orc, for that matter. Red hair and blue eyes with orc-brown skin, facial features perfectly in balance, grace paired with strength and intelligence. . . you're captivating. Gods-damned beautiful.”
Iefyr's ears twitched and flushed red. “Nador, are you already drunk?”
Nador coughed. “No. I mean, I grabbed a pint on the way out of the inn, but I'm not drunk yet. I will be soon. I'm sure of it.”
The halfling and the half-orc stared at each other, both red-faced and skeptical.
Rose's foot nudged mine. “Go ahead and eat. Drink.”
“I'll need to wave the barmaid for some water the next time she's on the patio,” I said. I stabbed at the roast goose with my fork tines. The meat was tender and came apart easily.
Rose laughed. “Ragan isn't here to stop you, so go ahead and try the beer. You're plenty old enough for it. Have you ever had alcohol before?”
“No.”
“Well, it's the perfect time to try a little. It'll help you relax, and gods know you need a break after all you've been through. If you don't like it, one of us will gladly finish off your pint.”
“I'll drink it,” Nador said. Her own pint was gone except for the foam clinging to the inside of the glass.
I picked up the pint and held it to my lips. The liquid was fizzy and bitter, with a strong flavor of acidic fruit. I cringed and set the glass down next to my plate. “It's . . . different. It tastes kind of like the fermented tea Daelis drinks.”
“Same idea, but better,” Iefyr said. “Do you like it?”
“I'm not sure yet.” I stared at the bubbles rising in my glass. “I'll try it again after I eat something.”
“Good lad. Drink up. Do your mother proud.”
“What do you know of my mother?”
Iefyr laughed, then swallowed the last of his pint. “Tessen, every merc and operative in southwest Bacra knows Rin Sylleth. She's legendary.”
“Have you met her?” I asked.
“Yes, many times. First time was when I wasn't much older than you, twenty at most. She was twenty-five or twenty-six, already designated an orc-friend. She taught me how to disarm someone in one swift movement, and then she and Mordegan taught me about the vast and rich variety of Jadeshire ales. Good woman, good fighter. You look like her.”
“He does, but he doesn't act like her.” Nador eyed my beer like it was the first liquid she'd seen after a week in the salt flats. If she wanted another drink, she'd have to get her own. I picked up my glass and tried not to gag as I swallowed a large gulp.
“I think he does,” Rose said. She smiled at the trio of silk-clad Faeline dancers who walked past the patio on their way to the stage. “He's tenacious and compassionate like she is, and one hell of a fighter. I can tell by the way he fights that both she and Ragan trained him. He's figured out how to combine the best of their techniques into his own.”
“I don't like it when people talk about me like I'm not here,” I mumbled into my bowl of pumpkin soup. It smelled and tasted medicinal and I wondered why the cook thought it was a good idea to add mint to an otherwise wonderful pumpkin soup. Perhaps they reached for the sage and missed.
“I'm sorry, my dear, I didn't mean for it to sound that way.” Rose swirled her spoon through the depths of her own soup, releasing a faint purple vapor. What spell was she working on her dinner? “Tessen Sylleth Lim—I never knew your father, so all I can say is you are certainly your mother's son. She was nineteen when I met her, and I knew then that she was something special. I see the same thing in you.”
“Rin saved my life,” Nador murmured. She held up her empty glass and looked at me through the shifting foam. “It was my first mission and one of her last. I was cocky and walked into a forest troll pit lightly armed. Didn't realize how big and nasty those bastards were, never seen one in the flesh before. They were all coming at me with bloodied rocks and death in their eyes, and then Rin swooped in like some sort of sword-wielding bat and took down all six, all in a single arc of the rope she dangled from. Others before self as a rule of instinct, and you're the same way. Deceptively unassuming, the both of you.”
I wasn't sure if the heat in my face was more a factor of the beer I'd just choked down or my discomfort about being complimented. I'd never accepted compliments well, and even the most honest ones left me feeling like I was an undeserving fraud.
“Watch it, you're embarrassing him,” Iefyr said through a mouthful of goose. He held up his fork and nodded. “This is damned good bird. Thyme makes all the difference, doesn't it? I've missed good, fresh herbs.”
“Can't get anything like this custard on the road to nowhere,” Rose said, lifting her glass to finish off her own pint.
“Oh, we're still nowhere, but now we're in a nowhere with good food and beds. Here's to that, it won't last.” Iefyr raised his own empty glass and clanged it against Rose's. Errant foam jumped onto his cheek. He wiped it away and shrugged. “Was starting to feel like we'd never see civilization again, but now look where we are. A little different from home, but it's a society. I'll take the reprieve, even if it's just for tonight.”
“Same.” Nador clapped her hands together as the barmaid approached with a tray of drinks. “At last, the mead has arrived.”
“Apple mead and raspberry scones, courtesy of your young elven friends,” the barmaid said with a forced smile. “They were on the terrace patio up above, but they said don't come looking for them. I wasn't supposed to tell you where they were, but me and my big mouth...”
“We won't bother them,” I said as the margins of my vision faded in and out of a bubbling gray haze. I rocked my head side to side in time with the dancers' jig and the bubbling was replaced by a static tingle in my temples.
The barmaid left the drinks and scones, then disappeared back into the tavern.
“I think she likes you, Tessy,” Nador said. She tasted her cider, then set it down and sighed with contentment. “All right, this is even better than the beer. You guys have to try it.”
“I think one is enough for me,” I said. It was taking some concentration to understand Nador's words, and my own words came out feeling distant and detached.
Iefyr laughed and passed me a scone. “Nonsense. You should see your face right now. Never seen you this relaxed. Or this red. Keep drinking.”
“I know I'm relaxed. Isn't that a good enough reason to stop drinking?”
“Well, you don't have to chug it. Savor it slowly and drink your damned scone,” Nador said.
“Drink my scone?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“You know what I mean, you dragon-eyed bastard.”
“Dragon-eyed bastard? Is that supposed to be an insult or a simple statement of fact?”
“You're not slurring your esses yet. Drink until you do.” Nador nibbled the edge of her scone. “Needs butter.”
Rose shoved a butterfly-shaped butter tray across the table. “Here. Don't butter it, though. You'll ruin it.”
“Don't talk to me about ruining scones, kitty cat. You're dipping yours in honey and black pepper.”
Iefyr grinned through a bite of caraway bread. “Oh, are we already at the combative phase of your drunkenness?”
“What of it? Wanna go out in the turnip field and spar?” Nador bared her teeth, then giggled.
“You'd enjoy that, wouldn't you?”
Nador raised her hand and blew a kiss at Iefyr. “You know it. Come on, beautiful, you would too.”
Iefyr's cheeks flushed scarlet.
Rose tapped her fingers on the table. “If you children want to go beat each other senseless, have fun. I wouldn't recommend it, though, because I don't want to listen to you whine about your bruises when we ride out tomorrow morning. Nador, drin
k another and move on to your storytelling phase. That one's far more fun.”
Nador gulped her mead, then cackled. “Not for Tessen. Kid doesn't like my stories.”
“He will once he's drunk enough,” Iefyr mumbled. His attention was elsewhere. I tried to follow his gaze but an orange paper lantern blocked my view.
“You'd better not be staring at any Horsefae, Iefyr. They don't like it,” Rose said.
Iefyr shook his head. “No, not Horsefae. Elves.”
“Don't stare at Shan and Marita, either. Leave them to their courtship.”
“Not our elves. Other elves. Two of them. Dark hair, full-blooded. They were by stage but they moved behind the vendor stands.”
“So?”
“They only moved because I caught them staring at us,” Iefyr said. He shuddered, then shook his head again. “Probably nothing. We are a funny-looking pack of weirdos, so I guess staring is a natural reaction. Only noticed these stares because they were elven instead of Fae.”
Nador sighed and rolled her eyes. “They were just elves, gods-dammit. Nosy, meddling elves.”
“I think I like the mead better.” I couldn't think of anything else to say to break the rising tension at the table. My pint was almost gone. I remembered the taste of it, but not the act of drinking it.
“I like mead better than elves, too,” Nador said.
“No, better than the beer.” I was dizzy now, and slightly nauseated. I bit off a chunk of caraway bread and hoped it would absorb some of the sloshing alcohol in my stomach. “I'm sleepy.”
“There we go, now he's slurring. Ragan's going to be pissed that we got his kid drunk.”
“If this is what drunk is, I don't like it.”
“He's only tipsy.” Rose nudged my arm just hard enough that I worried I'd fall sideways out of my chair. “He's weighty enough that it'll pass through him quickly. Don't give him any more and he'll be fine by the time we get back to the inn.”
“You're talking about me like I'm not here again,” I grumbled. I yawned and stretched my arms, nearly striking Rose in the face. “Sorry. You're closer than I thought you were.”
“I dodged.”
We fell into silence as the music and ambiance overtook us. Laughter and shuffling feet accompanied a lilting chorus of drums and flutes. Fire dancers twirled in time with breathless stories and whispered rumors. I had missed this part of civilization, the lively heartbeat beneath the mundane chaos. The forest had a beat of its own, but beyond the rustling leaves and chirping birds its embrace was rooted in absence.
I slouched in my chair and closed my eyes. I could sleep right here, cradled by all this noise. I could drift between revelers, unseen and unnoticed. I was not an intruder, as conversations were composed of pitches and cadences rather than meaningful words. True conversations were found in the clanging of glasses, in the scrape of fork upon plate, in the scent of roasting apples caught upon the breeze, in the vibrato of solo panpipes and a beggar's shuffling bare feet.
“Yeah, I'm drunk,” I admitted, breaking the loudest silence I'd ever experienced. My hips and knees ached due to my awkward posture but I was afraid to stand while the world was lurching, undulating, crying out that gravity was a farce.
“Didn't take much,” someone said. Was it Nador? Did it matter?
“Be gentle with him. It's his first time and we started him right out with Fae brews.” Rose. That was definitely Rose's purring alto. The world lurched to the left and my stomach threatened mutiny. I needed to keep my eyes closed or my throat would open.
“Well, he's a quiet drunk. That's too bad.” Nador again. Her voice was the squeak of a mouse, the chatter of a chickadee resting on a pine bough. Chick-chick-chickadee, chirping in the branches. “Wasn't expecting a storyteller drunk, though. He's too boring for that.”
“Not nice, Nador.” Rose's hand was on my shoulder. “Tessen, you're not boring. You're a sweet kid who will have far more stories than necessary when we're done with all this.”
“I just wish I didn't have to live them,” I said. Firecrackers popped and whizzed just beyond the edge of the patio. Somewhere near the fountain, a sound like a cracking whip was followed by a burst of laughter. “I want to go to sleep.”
“I know that look,” Iefyr said. His gravelly voice was a warm comfort and I wanted nothing more than to wrap myself in it and drift off into the black. “Give your stomach a few minutes to calm down and we'll take you back to the inn to say good evening to Ragan's great irritation and disappointment.”
“He needs to let me grow up.”
“That's a difficult transition to make. He'll get there eventually.”
More noisy silence, more rippling gravity. Drums and flutes became shawms and lutes. The burning sensation in the back of my throat slowly calmed and returned to the netherworld of my stomach.
“Tessen, are you asleep? Rose asked. Her fingertips were gentle on the back of my hand.
“Almost.”
“Do you think you're ready to go back now?”
“If someone helps me open my eyes.”
“I'll help you stand instead. I can handle him on my own if you two aren't ready to leave.”
I didn't remember walking back to the inn, but I was aware of the tedium of scaling the stairs and the screaming click of the key in the lock.
“It's just us, Ragan,” Rose said. Her arm was around me again, guiding me into the room.
I yawned and looked around. “This is the wrong room. He's in the other one.”
“Sit.” Rose left me at the edge of the bed. “I was certain he was in this one. Maybe he went to the privy. Stay here for a minute. I'll be right back.”
I sat on the floor instead of the bed. Dust bunnies waltzed beneath the nearby desk. A door opened and closed nearby. It didn't matter what Rose found in the other room. I was wrong.
The box on the floor next to the desk read FRESH LIMES, approx. 50 ct.
“Shit. Shit, shit, shit, sarding gods-damned shit.” Rose's frantic voice sprinted down the hall and shimmied under the door.
And there was the turnip crate, sitting empty on the other side of the bed. Sarding gods-damned shit, indeed.
This was the right room, and a stained sheet of parchment was pinned to the flapping curtains that covered the ajar window.
Ragan was gone, and so were the dragons.
Chapter 37
TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN:
THE HALF-FAE ABOMINATION AND ITS DRAGON HAVE BEEN TRANSPORTED TO BELISE FOR PUBLIC TRIAL AND EXECUTION. OUR APOLOGIZES FOR ANY INCONVENIENCE THIS MAY HAVE CAUSED, AND PLEASE ENJOY THE REMAINDER OF YOUR VISIT TO THE FAELANDS.
WITH SINCERE APPRECIATION,
CAPTAIN VEDALUN HARRIS
FAELANDS SECURITY DEPARTMENT
BASIN DIVISION
“Serida?” No. No, no, no, this couldn't be happening. She couldn't be gone. I could feel her. I could feel her panic. Where was she? Where was my Serida?
Rose burst through the door. I pointed to the letter, the one I nearly succumbed to frustration over because I'd forgotten to take my spectacles off to read. Serida, Ragan, Lumin . . . gone, all gone. I shouldn't have left her. I should have stayed with her and with Ragan. If I hadn't gone out with . . . no. I might have been able to keep Serida safe, but Ragan still would have been taken.
“No.” Rose sat heavily on the edge of the bed. Her hand settled on my shoulder. “This is my fault. I shouldn't have brought him here. I should have taken us south and braved the monsters of the Harmon Canyons. Better chances there than with the monsters here. I failed him by bringing him here. I failed my son and I failed you and Shan.”
I looked up at her. The tears in her eyes were more intense than my own, and mine burned like hot embers. “We need to get them back.”
Rose blinked the tears from her eyes, but more formed to replace the ones that fell. She stood and yanked the note from the curtains. “You're right, we do. Come with me to the constabulary. I saw it near the square. Maybe they were
taken there for the night to await transport.”
I nodded and struggled to my feet. I still didn't feel quite right, but most of the drunkenness had been shocked out of me. “We'll get them back. We have to.”
“Chirp?”
Dragon. The note said dragon, not dragons. Could one of them still be here?
I dropped to the floor and looked under the bed. Nothing but dust bunnies and grime. “Where are you?”
“Chirp?” The sound wasn't low, it was high. I sat back on my knees and looked upward. Green eyes stared down from the cobwebbed shadows of the exposed rafters.
“Lumin. It's okay. Come here.” My heart sank. Serida was the missing dragon, the one the Captain had assumed was Ragan's. My Serida was gone. Still on my knees, I raised my hand toward Lumin and closed my eyes. Wrong dragon, wrong dragon, but didn't Shan need his Lumin more than I needed my Serida? No, I mustn't think such things. Serida was mine and I was hers, and we were bound now and forever. She needed me. I needed her. I had to find her. “Lumin, come down. If you trust me, I'll keep you safe until we find Shan.”
Something made of heavy canvas smacked me in the shoulder. I opened my eyes. Ragan's spare rucksack, emptied of whatever accumulated junk he'd forgotten to throw away over the years. Rose stood over a small pile of crumpled parchment and frayed string. She wiped a new round of tears from her eyes and said, “See if he'll go in there for you. We can't leave him here, so he needs to come with us. Quickly . . . please . . . I don't want to lose any more time.”
“Shan would never forgive me if I left him behind,” I said. I stood and held up the open rucksack. “Lumin, get in. Please. I know you're scared and your sister was taken, but I'm not going to let anything happen to you. Get in the bag and stay quiet and still so I can get you to Shan safely.”
Lumin lowered his head into the light and stared at me. “Chirp?”
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