Page 28

W e left the wolves in the back garden of the house and made our way to the tavern on the river in the city square, which El informed me was called Arcaena Square, named for the sacred river that ran through its center.

The tavern was large, built both within and between two adjacent tree trunks.

An expansive outdoor patio overlooked the river, partially sheltered by canvas suspended between tree branches.

Woven into the branches beneath it, twinkling enchanted lights glowed over the patio, painting it warm and orange in the evening light.

We entered the large double doors and were met with heat from a towering stone hearth in the back of the building.

A long, deep red wooden bar ran the length of one wall, and a stage––where a string band played––sat against the opposite.

The hum of conversation floated about the room, mingling with the music.

I spotted Byrgir at a table near the back, seated across from a dark haired man. We wove through crowded tables to reach them.

“Ellie!” the dark haired stranger called, leaning back in his seat as we approached. The serious look on his face was chased away by a smile at the sight of El. “Ah, just in time to get me another round!”

El skipped around the table and slid into a seat next to him, her red hair bouncing about her curled horns. She wrapped an arm jovially around his shoulder. “You heard him, Byrgir. A round for everyone.”

Byrgir rose and headed for the bar, shaking his head.

“How’d you train him to do that?” the man under El’s arm asked. “Friends for thirteen years and I don’t think he’s ever once brought me a drink.”

“Bullshit,” El countered immediately, as if it were her usual response to whatever he said. “Crow, this is Halja. A good friend of ours and a talented Sourcerer, Eilith’s apprentice. Halja, this is the infamous Kyrecrow, but everyone knows him as Crow.”

A good friend . I smiled and took a seat across the small wooden table from them. “Nice to meet you, Crow.”

Crow’s eyes met mine, deep brown nearing black, but the hue that was often warm in the eyes of others was cold and sharp in his. Although he smiled, I could feel his assessment of me. Calculating, intelligent. I did my best to hold his gaze without squirming.

His black hair was tightly braided in three rows sweeping back over the top of his head, the sides of which were shaved close to his chocolaty-olive skin.

Beneath his black shirt, tattooed runes climbed his neck all the way to his jawline, and a small dagger decorated his cheekbone just below his right eye.

More tattoos wove down his hands and fingers –– intricate, beautiful, dark.

They reminded me of Byrgir’s hand tattoos, although Crow’s were an entirely different style, one I did not recognize.

I wondered who had gotten them first, him or Byrgir.

“Talented Sourcerer, eh? Good, we need more of those around here. Most of ’em ain’t worth shit,” he answered, his countenance unreadable following his initial assessment of me.

El rolled her eyes and Crow followed up with, “Nice to meet you too, Halja. Always helpful to have more folks around to keep El busy. With Byrgir gone now, I’m the only one forced to listen to her yammering. ”

El punched his shoulder and opened her mouth to counter, but he spoke first, eyes still on me.

“Byrgir told me you got mixed up in this shit too.” His tone was light, but I read distrust in his eyes. I shifted in my seat, disarmed by both his cutting gaze and his handsome face.

Byrgir returned with four large mugs of ale held carefully by their handles.

“I did” I replied. “Then Byrgir dragged me here against my will.”

Crow chuckled. “He can be persuasive with that sword.”

“Do you know what happened to Eilith?” I asked. The anxiety of her unknown fate was weighing on me. I wanted the answer now.

Crow delivered it, blunt and direct. “She was taken to Avanis by Paragon of the Light guards. Rangers in Skeioholm reported she wasn’t at home, and they found two dead dogs and a lot of blood outside her house.

A couple travelers on the road said they saw a group heading southeast out of town, riding hard, with someone wearing a sack over their head and wrists bound. ”

“Gods damn it.” My grip tightened on my beer mug and I fought tears at the thought of the dogs they had killed. One was likely Rose. She would have died fighting for Eilith before she let them take her.

“What do they want with Eilith in Avanis?” I said through the painful knot in my throat. Byrgir’s strong hand squeezed my shoulder in a comforting gesture. I glanced at him, and he furrowed his brow upward in melancholic sympathy.

“My guess is she’ll be taken to the Temple of Enos itself, where the blessed High Priestess Zisorah leads her faithful fuckin’ Paragons,” Crow said, his voice low.

“What makes you think it’s the High Priestess?” El asked.

“On account of the fact that it was Paragon guard that took her, not Evander’s boys,” Crow answered.

“Yes, but the order may not have come from the High Priestess,” El countered.

“Eilith has been pretty vocal in her disapproval of the Paragons in Skeioholm,” Byrgir said, “but arrest just for speaking against them is extreme.”

“I think there must be more to it than that,” Crow said.

“Like what?” El asked.

“Maybe they were coming for me too,” I said quietly.

Byrgir’s hand, still on my shoulder, squeezed again. “We don’t know who the main target was, Hal. Probably just Eilith. But you’re safe here, with us. No matter what.”

Byrgir’s touch eased my mind a bit, but Crow was watching me, sharp and measuring. Watching Byrgir too, observing how he touched me. Whatever he was thinking, his face remained a well-controlled mask.

“So what’s the plan?” El asked.

“I’m sending a small crew to Avanis tomorrow afternoon to find out where she is and why,” Crow answered, taking a swig of beer. “Then we can figure out our options.”

“I have approval to stay here and help. General Calder sent some replacements for me to Skeioholm,” Byrgir said, then added, “But the plan is up to the Council.”

“The rest can be up to us, if we choose,” El replied with determination.

Crow snickered knowingly and leaned back, rolling his eyes.

“What?” El retorted. “We have the skill sets we need seated right here, we have the means. We’ll do what we need to do when we need to do it.”

“First step is to gather information, El,” Crow said, then shook his head and lifted his mug. “Don’t even know the details yet and she’s already planning a fuckin’ unsanctioned jailbreak.”

Byrgir spoke, his easy, confident tone smoothing over El’s fiery one. “Council knows Eilith, she’s been around a long time. They care about her too. And they’ll care about getting her back. But one step at a time. Maybe they’ll send us all in to get her out anyway.”

“Maybe. Or maybe they’ll talk in circles for days instead,” El huffed.

“Talking like that won't do us any gods damned good right now, El. And this isn’t the place for it either,” Crow warned her, inclining his head toward the crowded bar room.

Byrgir changed the subject. The three of them caught up, well balanced in conversation in the manner that old friends are.

Where El was bright and talkative, Crow was dark and thoughtful.

Yet the three kicked banter and jokes back and forth across the table with a tempo of familiarity that comforted me.

I listened quietly, still trying to suppress my grief at the news of Eilith and our dogs.

I considered walking home, but didn’t want to be alone in that unfamiliar house either.

My sadness began to fade with the help of the beer and their quick wit. I listened to Crow intently. His accent was subtle but strange, and his proclivity for swearing reminded me of the north. It also masked his wit and intelligence, but only a little.

We ate a warm dinner and polished off another mug of ale each.

By the time we started the next round, El was leaning on Crow’s shoulder, and I hardly restrained myself from doing the same to Byrgir.

The band increased their tempo, and bar patrons slid tables and chairs out of the center of the main room, clearing a dance floor.

Soon, pairs were spinning and dancing through the tavern. Byrgir eyed the merriment.

El grabbed Crow’s arm and tugged. “Come on, Bird Boy, give me a dance!”

“Fuck off, El, I haven’t had enough to drink for this,” Crow protested as she continued to try to pull him from his chair.

“Oh bullshit, you love dancing! Every time you whine and whine,”––El dropped her voice low in mock stupidity––“‘No, El, please no, I hate dancing’, and then you’re always the last one out there cutting a rug.”

Byrgir and I laughed as Crow gave in, rising and stepping in front to lead El to the dance floor. “Fine!” he snapped. “Just don’t step on my damn toes.”

“How dare you!” El gasped in exaggerated shock. “I never step on your toes! I am an excellent dancer!” Her voice rose in pitch in her fervent denial as they moved onto the dance floor.

“Maybe you would be if you ever danced sober! But you get fuckin’ hammered and expect me to drag you through every gods damned step…” Crow’s full response was lost to the music and stomping of feet as they reached the dance floor.

“I like her,” I said to Byrgir.

“I knew you would. She’s pretty impossible not to like.”

His eyes were still on the pair as they danced.

That familiar stab of jealousy twisted in my gut, and I turned away from him, looking back down at my nearly empty mug.

I had no grounds to feel like this. No knowledge of their history, no proof of any past intimacy between them.

And even if I did, Byrgir had the right to be with anybody he wanted.

I had no ownership over him, and he owed me nothing. We were just friends.

“Dance with me?” His voice broke me from my reverie.

I looked up to see him holding a hand out to me.