Page 59

“Who is—”Hiccup.“—Gryph?”

“My father. Come on, Lore!” Isla exclaimed.

Suddenly, Asher’s warm hands weren’t on her shoulders and she was being whisked away, pulled outside the tavern behind a glittering Isla. The wind blew against Lore’s hot cheeks, and though she knew it was probably blistering cold, she couldn’t feel it.

“Isla, wait! I don’t remember there being so many stairs!”

Isla laughed again, doubling back to take Lore’s hand to pull her up the stairs.

Once inside the apartment, Isla went to the kitchen. Lore thought she might’ve been going in there to start on the dishes as she’d promised her brother, but, instead, Isla danced back out of the kitchen holding three glasses and a bottle of what looked like whiskey.

Lore plopped onto the couch in the hopes that the world would stop spinning if she was seated.

“Isla, haven’t you had enough?” Asher asked, lowering himself next to Lore.

She hadn’t realized he’d slipped in behind them.

“C’mon, Asher! We haven’t drunk together since we went camping in the Wilds.” Isla swirled the glass a little.

The warm amber liquiddidlook extra yummy in the lamplight.

Lore raised an eyebrow. Asher had sounded so disapproving, but he still reached out for the glass.

“Yeah, and I seem to remember a certain someone being dared to walk on coals and actually doing it.”

Isla didn’t seem to have it in her to look embarrassed. “You’re just pissy because you didn’t have the balls, and I did.”

Asher laughed then, a full and carefree sound. Lore’s core clenched at the sound of it.

“Isla, if you remember correctly, I was dared to walk on my hands across the coals and I did, right before doing—”

“A backflip!” Isla finished. “I forgot you were deranged, Asher.” Through a fit of giggles, Isla handed Lore a glass half-filled with the amber liquid she’d grabbed from the kitchen.

Lore had had whiskey before, though it had been made by humans for humans. She raised the glass to her nose and gave it a sniff before immediately pulling the glass away. Her eyes watered from the strength of the alcohol but she wasn’t about to be rude and turn her nose up at Isla’s offer.

Just as she was raising the glass back to her lips, Asher lightly put a hand on hers. “This whiskey probably won’t be like the whiskey you’re used to.”

Lore noticed Isla’s eyes narrow at this, probably wondering what kind of whiskey she would be familiar with if not this whiskey. Asher wouldn’t have brought them here if he didn’t trustIsla and her family, right? And Lore wasn’t sure when it had happened but, she trusted Asher inherently.

And she wanted to trust Isla, too.

Lore set the glass down, not wanting to know what would happen if she drank the liquor. She removed the scarf that had been holding back her wild curls and hiding her very human ears, fluffed her curls out, and then wrangled them into a sorry excuse of a bun on top of her head.

Isla stilled, staring at Lore’s rounded ears. “You’re the one they’re looking for. The human who deigned to leave their village. The one the northern king will pay to get back.”

The carefree mood from a moment ago filled with tension.

Lore didn’t say anything. What was there to say? Still, she couldn’t leave it like that.

She opened her mouth to respond, but just then, the door opened, letting in a rush of winter air, heavy with the promise of snow. Finndryl walked in, setting down a bag on an end table, and stilled, probably feeling all their eyes on him.

Lore didn’t move. It was one thing to put her faith in Isla—the kind fae who had treated her as a friend from the moment they met—but Finndryl was another story.

His eyes grazed over Lore, snagging a moment on her ears, but the aloof fae didn’t say anything. Instead, he moved farther in and headed down the hallway.

“Don’t worry,” Isla said into the silence. “Finn would never turn anyone in. He hates the Alytherians as much as you probably do. All he wanted was to join the guard along with Asher, but they wouldn’t let him. We’re half–light fae and half–dark fae, and although he takes after our dark fae side, they still wouldn’t let a halfling into the army.” Lore nodded, apprehensive. The appearance of Isla’s brother had shifted the mood further and Lore sobered up, the haze of drink clearing. Lore may have been far from home, but her thoughts needn’t be. If there was one thingAsher had helped her to learn over the last few days, it was that she couldn’t do this on her own. And maybe she didn’t have to.

She might as well try to glean information from those around her who were willing to share what they knew. Reaching over to her backpack, she pulled out her book. “Asher, open the curtains.”