Page 42

Forty-One

Lira followed Val from the kitchen, muttering to herself. Was every member of her former crew going to descend on Wayside?

Every living member, she reminded herself, thoughts of Pirrin dampening the sharp edge of her frustration.

She shouldn’t have been surprised to see that the great room wasn’t empty, but the steady presence of patrons continued to give her a pleasant jolt. Sass moved confidently around the tables, refilling pewter tankards and gathering empty chai mugs as villagers sat in conversation or deep in thought.

Val slipped out the front door, holding the cake in one hand and sliding a questioning look at Lira. At least Korl wasn’ t there.

It took no more than a breath to spot the Tiefling Val had noticed, and another to raise an eyebrow at him.

Vaskel sauntered toward her with an arch grin. His magenta skin was hidden partially under the hood of a black cloak, but he flipped it back as he closed the distance between them. His ice-blue eyes; short, pointed beard; long, slashing tail; and horns that curled back from his forehead were all as she remembered, but the scar that split one dark slash of an eyebrow was new.

A few patrons’ eyes followed the Tiefling, but Lira wasn’t sure if it was because the fiendish creature wasn’t something frequently spotted in this part of the Known Lands, or if they were struck by his wicked good looks. Either way, Vaskel didn’t seem to mind.

He swept her into an embrace without a word, and Lira inhaled the faintest scent of ash that her friend covered with a liberal application of sandalwood. Despite his appearance, Lira had never found Vaskel as irresistible as most females who encountered him. Of course, Vaskel was charming, but he’d never been able to seduce Lira with his silky words and seductive moves. Maybe it was one of the few ways in which her elven blood came in handy.

His hug was fierce and his voice a velvet purr as he whispered in her ear, “You don’t get to walk away, Lira. Not after all we’ve been through.”

For the briefest moment, Lira worried that the Tiefling’s visit was not a friendly one. Did he hold a grudge against her for leaving like she had? She wouldn’t blame him, although she didn’t want to have Vaskel as an enemy. When he pulled back and held her at arm’s length, he smiled, melting all her fears in a heartbeat.

Her breath rushed from her as swiftly as her words. “I’m sorry I left like I did, Vask. It didn’t have anything to do with you, with any of you.”

Vaskel shook away her apology with his head, his hands still on her waist. “I never took it personally. We were all a mess after Malek, and I know how much you adore me.”

Lira laughed. “Since you’re the one who tracked me down, it looks like the adoration goes the other way.”

His light eyes flashed heat. “I would never deny that.”

She shook her head, almost relieved that her friend hadn’t changed one bit. “Tell me, is there a town crier somewhere spreading the news of my new address and vocation?”

He gave a throaty laugh. “Word does travel, especially if you’re listening for it.”

“Cali didn’t tell you?” Lira swept her gaze around the great room, noticing for the first time that the Tabaxi wasn’t there.

“Cali?” Vaskel’s brows pressed together, which made him look both more sinister and more smoldering. “I haven’t seen our archer friend since we disbanded. Have you?”

Lira wondered if there was a reason her friend didn’t want the Tiefling to know her whereabouts. She decided not to continue discussing their crew and her past life in full view of everyone, taking him by the arm and pulling him to the small round table in the farthest corner where two wooden chairs huddled across from a pair of short stools. A single taper burned in a wrought iron candleholder.

“Did you two fall out?”

Now Vaskel looked affronted. He tossed his long, dark hair, as the tail he’d tucked to one side lashed. “Never. We all parted as friends.”

Even though he had many impish qualities, lying wasn’t one of them.

“She’s here,” Lira said. “I thought that was why you’d come. I thought she might have mentioned searching for me.”

“I suspect we’ve all been searching for things we lost.” He glanced around the tavern. “Although it seems you returned to where it all began.”

Lira’s gaze wandered to the long table where they’d all first met. “I did, although it’s taken some work to get this place back to what it was when we were here.”

“Oh?” Vaskel’s scarred brow twitched .

“When I arrived, the place was a mess. It’s taken a good deal of work for me and Sass to get it even close to its former state.”

“Sass?”

She thought of how she and the dwarf had met. She couldn’t tell him that. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Vaskel, but the fewer people who knew her secret, the better. Especially since her secret was even more important than she’d known.

Instead, she gestured toward the dwarf who was bustling around the tables refilling mugs of chai. Her braid was frayed with wispy curls sprouting from her hairline, and her apron had seen better days. “She’s better at sprucing things up than you’d guess by looking at her.”

“You know I hesitate to judge others by their appearance,” he said with a silky smile.

“Too true. You would never have been a part of our motley crew if you only kept to your kind.”

Vaskel waved a hand and leaned back in his chair. “Too boring.” Then he winked at her so quickly she almost missed it. “Besides, too many Tieflings means too much competition.”

Lira grinned at this, but the grin slipped from her face when she thought of Pirrin and how the two had always served as wingmen for each other. “You haven’t heard then?”

He bristled, the blue in his eyes flashing heat. “So many questions you seem to know the answer for already. Why do I get the feeling I’m late to the proverbial party?”

She put a hand on his arm, the warmth from his skin pulsing through the cloak. “I thought maybe you’d been with him—"

“You going to introduce me to your friend?”

Sass’s appearance made Lira drop her hand, and Vaskel swung to face the dwarf with a fierce expression. To Sass’s credit, she didn’t so much as flinch as she leaned a hand on the table. “You another one of Lira’s old crew?”

“This is Vaskel,” Lira said before he could speak.

“Pleased to meet you.” Sass flipped her braid behind her, but her grin wasn’t a simpering one. “You thirsty? ”

The Tiefling blinked at her, the fire in his gaze dimming. “I am.”

“You look like you could do with a cold ale.” Sass nodded decisively. “I’ll bring one right over.”

As she left, he studied her retreating back as if attempting to puzzle out why she hadn’t been charmed by him.

“She’s as immune to your seductive powers as I am,” Lira whispered.

Vaskel hummed at this, the sound rough and gravelly. “You’re half elf, and you aren’t fully immune.”

Lira laughed as the Tiefling squared his shoulders. “Believe what you wish.”

He cut her a look, his lips twitching. “I will admit that you always made a valiant effort to resist me.”

Lira sat back and folded her arms over her chest. “It wasn’t the effort you thought it was.”

His laugh was full-throated and drew some stares. “I have missed you, Lira.” He allowed his eyes to move across her face and down to her waist, but it wasn’t remotely predatory. “I’ll be the first to admit that it’s unsettling to see you in an apron and not your rogue’s attire. You’re not the Lira I remember.”

“I’m the same Lira I always was, but you never got to see this side of me.”

He leaned forward, his elbows on the table. “You don’t miss it?”

“What? The danger, sleeping rough, being chased?”

“The excitement, nights under the stars, the treasure.”

Fond memories tugged at her, as if they could pull her back if they cast themselves in a flattering light. “I won’t lie. There are things I miss about that life, but one of them is sitting across the table from me. Another is already in this village. I hope the other is tucked away safe and sound in the gnome enclave with his wife.”

Vaskel’s brow creased as he stroked one hand down the point of his short beard. “And Pirrin?”

“I wish it was not me telling you.” Lira swallowed the lump that lodged in her throat every time she thought of the Ranger who was such a dab hand with a sword.

Vaskel’s tail went rigid. “How?”

“I don’t know,” Lira admitted. “Cali told me, but she said she didn’t know how he died either. She said there were no marks on his body.”

The Tiefling reared back as if she’d struck him. “He didn’t die by the sword?”

Lira shook her head. “I’ve told you all I know.”

Vaskel hunched forward with both forearms on the table, his head bowed between them. “First Malek and now Pirrin.”

She put a hand over one of his. “It’s bad luck.”

Vaskel growled at this. “Like hells it is. It’s those wraiths.”

The tankard that Sass had been lowering to the table bobbled and thunked, some of the foam sloshing over the side. “I’m sorry. Did you say wraiths?”