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“No fun,” she replied.

Sadie

Halfway to Rikesh, the rope bridge forked into two. Nestled between the V of the two paths upon a webbing of rope was a building. A creaking sign swung in the breeze about the splintering door:Avan Vi Rikenna—Don’t Look Down.

I immediately looked down.

Wind blustered up from between the rickety slats of wood that led to the tavern door. The ground so far below my feet was just a blur of beige. In the distance, I could see the thin line of the Stoneater River that carved the border between Valta and Damrienn. Ostekke gut me, we were so high that clouds rushed bybelowus.

Merry music played and warm firelight flickered from the fogged windows, but my stomach was all the way in my feet as I walked down the last steps of Galen den’ Mora.

“You know, when I said I could use a drink...” I hedged, wobbling on the last step that bounced with my weight.

“We need to pick up some supplies,” Navin assured. He placed a hand on the small of my back and I leaned against it like a dog tugging on a tight leash, practically falling backward on my ass. “Trust me, you’ll forget all about it once we’re inside and have a couple pints.”

“I very much doubt that, Nav,” Maez said from behind us.

The wind whipped back the hood of my cloak—a terrible disguise if ever there was one. At least I wouldn’t have to have my hands bound if I was hidden in the shadows of my garment. Maez in an act of solidarity donned a matching cloak, making us look more like temple acolytes than travel-weary passersby.

Navin stepped confidently onto the narrow boardwalk path that led to the tavern. I noted the way the slats bent and tilted under each of his footsteps. Acid rose up my throat. My limbs felt shaky and light, my appendages watery and out of control. It felt as if my body might fling me over the coarse rope barriers against my own will.

“Come on,” Maez said, tugging me by the elbow. I clung to her arm like a hawk snatching a fish with its talons. “Seriously? Ouch,” she grumbled, but I just dug my nails into her tighter.

There were times to be petulant and there were times to feign bravery and right now I gave absolutely zero fucks about how frightened I seemed, I was not letting go of her arm.

“I’m not falling from the fucking sky again, Maez,” I muttered. My legs started trembling as we stepped onto the first board. My whole body braced as if the board would crack below my feet, my muscles tense and preparing for the plummet.

“Four more steps and we’re in the doorway,” Maez said, and I didn’t know if she was trying to reassure herself or me. “Stop acting like a bunny and start acting like a soldier.”

At that pointed comment, I moved. Better to just get it over with and stop drawing out my torment. I crossed the last four slats in a frantic scramble, dragging Maez along with me as we simultaneously yanked up our hoods. When we shut the tavern door behind us, my mind was left reeling at the disparity between one side of the threshold and the other. Inside, the tavern was warm and inviting, dimly lit by flickering candles atop each table and a roaring fire in the hearth along the far wall. Despite the sweltering climate of the floating mountains, the air around the tavern was rather cool with a draft of wind that made the fire pleasant rather than stifling.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I tried to not think too much about the miles of air between me and the sand dunes far below.

Navin waved to the barmaid, miming a drink in his hand and mouthing the word “ale.”

The tavern was nearly full to bursting, only a single barstool left unoccupied. The crowd didn’t bother to look at us despite our dramatically frenetic entrance and shadowed hoods. Judging by the mishmash of patrons, the tavern was used to travelers from everywhere. A trio of musicians played from one corner, a rousing card game drawing a crowd from the other. People milled around the bar wearing everything from furs to lightweight linens, jewels to threadbare jackets, passing every type of coin over the bar top.

By the time I took the place in, Navin was already sitting at a booth beside the fire, having darted to claim the table that still carried the leftover dinner and half-finished drinks of the last patrons. Maez and I tiptoed over to him, cringing at every creak in the boards below our feet.

“You get used to it,” Navin said as Maez and I shakily sat.

“After ten pints of ale perhaps,” Maez muttered. “Ah,” she said when the barmaid set three tall glasses of foaming golden liquid on the table. “Bless you, Goddess.”

I couldn’t quite fathom how, without even seeing Maez’s face, the barmaid blushed and gave Maez a wink as she collected the dirty plates and glassware. I rolled my eyes. Like a sorcerer to the darkness, Maez seemed to draw in every living person in Aotreas. I chugged my drink, the liquid burning down my throat, and passed it back to the barmaid before she could even step away from the table.

I stifled a burp and dropped two golden gritas on her tray, saying, “Keep them coming.”

Maez passed her now-empty glass over, too. “Agreed.”

The barmaid’s cheeks flushed a deeper shade of scarlet as Maez tossed another coin onto her tray. She gave a half curtsy and hustled back off toward the bar.

“You’re mated,” I reminded her.

“And Briar is lucky to have someone so desirable, no?”

Maez tugged her hood lower and turned her attention back to Navin. “So why exactly have you brought us to this death-defying interlude?”

“Look at this,” he said, taking a crumpled sheet of paper from his pocket and unfurling it on the table. He placed the candlestick at one end and his glass of ale at the other to keep the paper from curling.