Page 41

Chapter

Twenty-Six

ARA

Two men at the table behind me talk about a dragon being in town, and I can’t believe my luck. I tune out the riders around me and focus on the conversation behind me.

Based on the heavy silence that follows when one of the men drops the dragon’s name, Lorcan, it seems his companion has heard of him.

“Lorcan was seen at the Dark Horse every night this week,” the deep voice continues. “I wonder what he’s waiting for.”

“Probably just a lucrative deal,” his friend answers. “Or maybe he got bored hiring out his services. I heard he fought on quite a few battlefields in the past century.”

“Fuck, can you imagine being around that long?” the first man asks. “He probably saw more people die than we ever met.”

“Forget seeing,” the other snorts. “He probably killed more people than we ever met.”

My mind whirls. Dragons are highly magical creatures, shapeshifters, and like the man said, they live a hell of a lot longer than humans do. So if anyone can answer my questions, it’s a dragon.

I have to meet him.

I glance at Tanner to my right. Zaza said he grew up in Platoria, so he would know where the Dark Horse is, right?

I wait for him to finish his conversation with one of the serving girls, who he seems to know on a personal level, and then engage him in a conversation about growing up in Platoria. He makes it easy, and I soon know a lot about his family and the town around us.

“So what is the Dark Horse?” I finally ask, holding my breath when Tanner sits up straighter at that.

“What? Why do you ask?” He sounds alert.

“Oh, I just overheard some men talking about it and wondered what it is.” I try to defuse his suspicion. He relaxes, and so do I.

“It’s a tavern close to the port,” Tanner answers my question, and I could have kissed him. “But not one you ever want to visit, kid. Believe me, there are more crooked things going on in one evening than you ever want to encounter in a lifetime.”

“Oh, that doesn’t sound good.” I bite my lip. I’ll have to be careful, then. He scoffs.

“No, nothing good ever came of it.” Tanner shakes his head. “Not a place where anyone in uniform ever wants to show his face.”

“What are you talking about?” Miller inquires, but Tanner waves him off.

“Nothing good. Didn’t you go home last weekend to help your brother prepare for the next assessment?

How did that work out?” he asks instead, and I happily let them move on to a different topic.

I won’t get more information out of Tanner without raising suspicion, anyway.

I will need to change before I can head to the Dark Horse. But with the information that it’s close to the port, I should be able to find it. I’m buzzing with nervous energy at the thought of finally finding answers.

I look up and catch Tate watching me. Guilt tries to overpower my anger at him and my excitement over this chance. I stomp it out like the last embers of a fire.

I will not feel guilty about doing everything to survive and save my family.

His gaze is probing, like he wants to figure out my thoughts. It’s too much. I jump up and hurry off to the restrooms.

My thoughts jump around, trying to find the best way to meet the dragon. If I manage to slip away from the group before we get back, I would avoid having to sneak out later. Unfortunately, I think Tate will have everyone look for me once he sees I’m missing.

Why does he have to be so annoyingly observant?

I splash water on my face and take a few deep breaths to calm down. When I look in the mirror, my cheeks are flushed and my eyes are determined.

I will not blow this chance.

I step into the hallway and slam to a stop when I see him waiting for me.

My feelings flash like the spokes on a fast-moving carriage, turning and turning until they are one big blur of chaos.

Why do I always feel too much when he’s around?

I avert my gaze and try to slip past him, but he moves fast. Before I can blink, I find myself between him and the wall, his body blocking out everything else.

My mind goes blank. The chaos inside me screeches to a halt.

Tate leans in the tiniest bit, and for a second, I think he’s going to kiss me.

My heart picks up speed while I try my best to appear unfazed.

He shakes his head like he knows exactly what I’m thinking. Bastard.

“This would get you into trouble,” he says, his voice rough. As if I would care about that right now.

“I can’t let you—” He starts, and that pulls me back into reality. Oh no, he didn’t. Not him, too.

Anger explodes in my chest, leaving it hollow.

“Oh, this is rich,” I nearly spit the words. “I’ve had it with everyone telling me what I can or can’t do.” I get into his face. “Let me tell you something, Kyronos. If I decide to sleep with you or any other rider, it’s my decision and my risk, not yours, so you can’t let me… anything.”

“You’re not sleeping with anyone else,” he growls, and indignation and triumph war inside me. How dare he tell me what to do, but … is he jealous?

My common sense wins out. For all I know, he cozied up to another girl last night, and now he wants to tell me I can’t do the same if I feel like it?

Fuck him.

“I’m free to do what I want, just like you.” I bare my teeth at him. “And thanks for informing me that you told Jared about me,” I add, escaping from the delicious cage of his arms and body to hurry back to our table.

The nerve of this man.

I slam my fist on the table while I slump back down in my seat, making all the drinks jump. All eyes land on me.

“A mosquito,” I say dryly.

“A mosquito?” Jared raises his eyebrows. “In winter?”

I shrug. “I hate those buggers, drawing blood when they have no business even being there.” I earn a few quizzical looks before everyone gets back to their conversations.

Jared looks unconvinced, but I don’t care. I think I earned some major points since I neither slapped nor jumped my centurion. I’m not sure which urge would have won out if I had stayed.

Jared leans over the table like he wants to say something but is interrupted when the reason for my mood drops back into his seat. I turn away from them and give Boko my full attention.

I meet Tate’s eyes more than once when I look up, but he doesn’t try to talk to me again, and when he heads off on his own after we leave the Golden Boar, I ignore the twist in my gut and decide I’m glad the fates are making it so easy for me.

It gets even easier to slip away when the group breaks up even more.

No one pays me any attention when I fall back and then slip into a narrow side street.

I hold my breath for the first few steps, expecting someone to call my name, but no one does.

The city is as pretty from down here as it was from up in the air.

Little shops line the street I find myself on, their big windows sparkling with the light spilling out.

Some people bustle around, trying to finish their errands, while others stroll leisurely, laughing and talking in groups or pairs.

The streets are clean and well-lit, the people relaxed and well-fed. It seems safe to say Platoria is thriving with all the business that comes with having a big port.

I pass two pairs of guards within five minutes and no longer wonder about the absence of pickpockets. I guess a city with the royal family in attendance every summer must keep up its appearance.

I stop at a cute little shop that promises immediate delivery of all dress orders, and when I step inside, to the peal of a bell, a smiling woman the age of my mother greets me. She laughs when my jaw drops as soon as she starts working.

Under her administration, the fabric I picked splits, molds, and merges until I’m left with a dress that fits me perfectly without so much as a stitch in sight. I’ve never met someone with a gift like that before.

It costs me all the money I have with me, but the experience alone is worth it. She even agreed to hold on to my uniform after I told her I wanted to surprise someone.

Hopefully, I’ll be able to recover it. Between this set and the one I left at Sloan’s, I’ll soon be short on uniforms otherwise.

Finding the port is easy. I just have to follow the streets downhill. Soon, I leave the well-lit and orderly district behind. The lights get dimmer and fewer until they stop altogether.

The streets are dirtier and in an increasing state of disrepair, just like the houses that frame them. It’s hard to believe I’m still in the same city.

I take care to keep my walk easy and confident. Showing weakness should be the last thing I do in an area like this. Maybe coming here wasn’t my smartest idea.

Something moves in a shadow ahead, and I change to the other side of the street.

My neck is tingling, but I don’t turn around.

Occasionally, I hear steps behind me, and all my senses are on high alert.

But the closer I get to the water, the less reliable the magic around me feels.

It flickers and jumps like something distorts the signal, playing tricks on my mind.

I could have sworn I felt Tate behind me once, only for his warmth to vanish a second later.

Losing this sense of the magic makes me aware of how much I’ve come to rely on it already, and the lack of it blinds me in a way that makes me feel vulnerable.

I refrain from asking for directions to the Dark Horse after a seemingly harmless old woman I approach sizes me up like I’m a horse for sale.

I take a few wrong turns and once stumble to a halt at the edge of a cliff, the dark water swirling beneath me. But finally, I spot an askew hanging sign of a black horse on weathered wood.

The door underneath doesn’t look much better, and the boarded-up windows make it seem anything but welcoming. I suppress the urge to turn away and step into the tavern that has to be the Dark Horse.