Chapter 7
Cyrus
W ell, that was pretty awkward. Laini and Tully cockblocking me wasn’t exactly subtle. They couldn’t get me away from Kaya fast enough. Both females were far too happy to see Halvard come by and save their friend from being seduced by me. I actually don’t blame them. Kaya is too good for me. I’m a scoundrel. I shouldn’t be flirting with her at all. I could seduce her, most likely. But she’s my friend and that’s that. I won’t ruin what we have. She deserves better.
“What is on your mind, Cyrus?” Halvard looks down at me and frowns. “You look miserable.”
“I have to stop flirting with Kaya.”
“Kaya? I thought you two were friends.”
“We are. Of course. That’s just it. I keep teasing her and saying stupid things like I would to other attractive potential partners. Tully and Laini reminded me that she isn’t for me. Not in that way. They’re right. No more flirting.”
Halvard huffs a laugh. “I can’t imagine you’ll have anything to say if you take flirting off the table.”
I punch his arm and pull my hand back with a wince. “Shut it, orc.”
His chuckle is muffled. “But if you like her, then why not give it a try?”
I shake my head. “She knows what I am and she knows I’m not her cup of tea. I have to stop stirring things up between us. It’s childish at best; a friendship-breaker at worst. I don’t want to lose the connection I have with her. It’s worth more than anything else to me. From now on, I’ll help her fill this order and there will be zero flirting.”
“Right.”
I scowl at Halvard. “You sound like you don’t believe me.”
“That’s because I don’t.”
“I will prove you wrong,” I say.
“I’ll bet you a full night of the best mead that you can’t stop yourself from at least uttering one innuendo in her presence.”
I stop and look at him. He pauses, a funny look on his face that reminds me of something I can’t place.
“I’m having a bad influence on you, aren’t I?”
Halvard shrugs. “Depends on who you ask.”
I start walking again and then push open the back door of the pub. “Damn it. I am just traipsing about life, ruining folks left and right.”
Halvard laughs as we enter the pub’s front room, where the crowd is loud and two males are close to blows, yelling in one another’s faces. I don’t see DeFleurtis anywhere.
I push through the group of tourists and locals alike. “What’s going on?”
Betilda, the town’s gossip, is there, and she grabs my shoulder, her overly rouged cheeks rising as she smiles down at me. The orc female is nearly as tall as Halvard.
“Cyrus, darling, don’t interrupt. I have twenty coppers on the wiry human. I think he’s tougher than he looks.”
I pull away. “Sorry, darling,” I say, giving her a wink. She grins and snickers. “But we can’t have any more fist-fighting in here. I had to buy three new tables the last time.”
The two potential combatants are in one another’s faces. It’s a human I don’t know, and our town butcher—a goblin with a temper.
“We told you not to go up there, you idiot!” the butcher shouts, waving a dark green fist.
“You can’t stop our research,” the pale-skinned human male snaps. “We have a king’s pass to peruse the area!”
The butcher’s black eyes widen, then narrow on the human. “That pass isn’t worth shite! It only talks about land in Kingstown. He knows nothing about the curse here. You’ll bring darkness down on us all if you keep at your foolish work!”
“Eh!” I blow out a stream of fire above their heads. Breaking up fights in my pub is becoming far too commonplace. “I’m the only one allowed to shout in here!” I flap my wings and rise over the group. All faces lift to look at me, and the room goes quiet. “That’s right. I can toast the lot of you if you don’t break this up. You two, outside, now. The rest of you can stay if you go back to your tables and immediately take up a new subject for your conversations.”
The customers listen to my strong suggestions and I land beside the human.
“You’re with DeFleurtis, aren’t you?”
“I am.”
“Where is your fearless leader at the moment?”
“He twisted his ankle coming back down the hill from the ruins, so he is at the Acorn Inn, resting.”
“Didn’t you see our Lord Mayor’s guards up there?”
“We did,” he says with an obstinate tone, “but we forced our way through them.”
“And now your friend is suffering the first touch of the curse I warned him about.”
He glares, but doubt shows in the depths of his eyes. “It’s just a twisted ankle.”
“Right. Well, if you’re going to go back up there, don’t return to my pub. I don’t want the drama.”
Betilda is passing behind me, on her way to her regular game of cards with her friends.
“I thought you adored drama, Cyrus,” she says in a stage whisper.
I give her an admonishing look. “Not this brand.”
She grins and heads off, and when I turn back around, the human who is friends with DeFleurtis is gone. Good riddance.
Trustan, my other orc employee, takes an order at the one table still waiting on food. The lad has it under control, so I decide it’s past time I have a drink and a game of my own. But not here. I need a break from my pub.
Two hours later, I’m seated at the Goat and Dragon. My head is pleasantly fuzzy from Grumlin’s fine ale, and I have Romulus, a gargoyle, and Argos, a minotaur, across the table from me. They’re about two cards away from losing every coin in play to me.
Argos pushes his glasses higher on his nose and studies his cards. “I don’t like my chances right now.”
“Stop using math to play cards, Argos,” I say. “It takes the fun out of it.”
“I can’t just stop thinking.”
“Try to be a little less intelligent, all right?” Rom asks, grinning. “We can’t compete with your genius brain.”
I take another card. An archer’s heart. I lay it out along with the rest of my hand. “Speak for yourself, Rom.”
The gargoyle and the minotaur set their hands on the table, face up. With his king’s sword and two fives, Argos was close to defeating me. But not close enough. Rom doesn’t even have a pair to his name. I gather the coins from the center of the table and slide them into my money pouch.
“Thank you, friends. I always enjoy playing cards with you two.”
Rom gives me a flat look. “Is that due to our sparkling companionship or because you destroy us every single time?”
“If I say both, will you stop asking?”
We laugh, and I deal out another hand.
I felt a kinship with Rom right away when he first arrived in Leafshire Cove. I think it’s the wings—we both know what it is to crave the open sky. Pixies and fairies have wings too, but theirs don’t allow soaring in the clouds. Pixie and fairy wings aren’t nearly as large or as strong as dragon shifter and gargoyle wings.
The fire crackles in the tavern’s massive hearth, and it’s really nice not to have to worry about the crowd or serving anyone. The tension in my shoulders eases as we play another hand, this time with fewer wilds and more ale.
Kaya’s concerned face flits through my head. Should I go back and see if she needs any night prep done for tomorrow’s baking? No, she had Tully and Laini there, and they were probably finished for the evening anyway. Plus, I have to limit the time I’m spending with Kaya or I’ll give myself away. I don’t know why she is so much on my mind these days. It’s childish of me to want her, to even think of ruining the solid friendship we have. I shake her from my mind and focus on my cards.
Rom takes off after an hour; he has to rise early for his job at the tower. Argos sticks with me, though, and we pick up a couple of travelers, dealing them in. It’s a fun night of lute music, me winning a great deal of small change, and laughs.
When I pay Grumlin and leave, I don’t feel tired enough for bed. I should sleep. It’s late. But the moon casts a long beam of silver light over the town, and I can see the faint outline of the ruins up on the hill beyond the western walls.
A shiver dances down my spine, and I head in that direction. If those humans can poke around without immediately dying, maybe we are all wrong about the curse?
I consider what DeFleurtis said about the old castle belonging to a dragon shifter. Maybe it’s safe for me because of my blood? I can’t deny that I’m insane with curiosity.
I trip over a shopping sack someone dropped in the market, then I pick it up, slinging it over my shoulder. Whistling, I make my way out of the town walls.
“We will be locking up in an hour!” the wall guard calls out.
I might be a little drunk. “I know, Whitby. I won’t be long.”
“I’m not Whitby!”
I blink up at the human leaning out of the gatehouse window. “Oh, sorry, Denian. You two look alike.”
“But he’s a goblin… You feeling all right, Cyrus?”
I wave him off and continue my walk to the ruins. Maybe I shouldn’t have downed that last ale. But I’m fine. I’ll just nose around the exterior of the ruins. It’ll be okay. Surely.