Chapter 9
9
FRIDA
O akwater was a bustling little village, its inhabitants lit up in the orange glow of the evening sun. Rune led me along a dirt street that was churned up by wagon wheels. The timber buildings were packed in close, where a clearing had formed due to a natural break in the trees. But a few towering redwoods still stood tall and proud amongst the homes. A group of laughing pixies clustered on a blanket in the shade of the tallest one. Their multi-colored wings matched the flowers.
We continued past them and moved onward down a row of shops. The signs pronounced the wares they sold: books and ink, alchemist supplies, or breads and cakes. Among them was a blacksmith shop and a fishmonger, too. And at the end of the row stood the tavern.
The doors were flung wide, spilling song and laughter into the street. Several patrons were clustered on the benches outside, where their tables were already full of tankards. I followed Rune through the door and into the humid warmth. The place was already packed, throngs of patrons facing the stage at the far end of the rectangular room. Timber beams lined the ceiling above. Decorations dangled from them: acorns and dried flowers and pine cones.
The minstrels were already in full swing. An elven woman perched on a stool, plucking at her lute, while a pixie sang along, her black curly hair bouncing along with the thud of her foot. Two others had taken the stage with them. One was on drums. He was a tall shadow demon—nearly as tall as Rune—and his gaze was sharp as he scanned the crowd, like he was hunting the room for someone. The look in his eye unnerved me, and there was something oddly familiar about him. A moment of panic clutched my heart and squeezed. Could he somehow be here to watch my every move? But then that hawkish gaze passed right over me, like I was no more important to him than anyone else. It was just my paranoia getting to me.
The fourth member of their little team was, from what I could tell, a human. With sun-kissed skin and soft brown eyes, she stood off to the side playing the harp, like she didn’t want to take any of the spotlight herself. But the sound of her playing brought mist to my eyes. I clasped my hands before me, awe filling my chest.
“Ah, there you go again. Let me guess, you think all this is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever laid eyes on,” Rune said a little gruffly, though there was a hint of fondness there, too.
“It is quite beautiful,” I said softly.
He looked a little pleased by that. “Well, find us somewhere to sit. I’ll grab us two ales.”
Before turning to go, he arched a brow, almost like he suspected an objection to his offer. An assassin who’d made a vow to the guild would say no. So obviously I had to do the very opposite of that, even if it might get me in trouble if the guild found out.
“Thank you!” I beamed and wandered off through the crowd. Rune was trying to lay a trap for me again. Little did he know, he’d laid the trap for himself—and he’d stepped squarely into it. My suspicions were confirmed. Rune knew far more about the guild than an ordinary person would, which begged the question…how? Had Rune once been a member of the guild? If so, why had I never heard of him?
And if he was a former member, was that why he’d ended up on Erik’s list?
I found the idea troubling. So troubling, in fact, that I bumped into someone’s chair because I was too distracted by my thoughts to look where I was going. My stomach collided into it. A bright, hot pain lurched through me, stealing all the breath from my lungs. I stumbled back, but the press of bodies closed in around me, forcing me to remain where I was—trapped between a wall of bodies and the press of the chair.
Black spots darted through my vision. I reached out and timidly tapped the shoulder before me. The owner of said shoulder was a fire demon, whose curving red horns shone wickedly even in the dim lighting of the tavern. He jerked his head sideways, looking back at me.
“Hi, sorry. Do you think you could scoot forward just a tad? I’m a bit stuck here,” I said.
He squinted at me. “Are you new here?”
“Yes,” I said through gritted teeth. I was struggling to get out the words, what with the way the chair was still smashed into my stomach. Fate, I could hardly breathe.
As if suddenly understanding my predicament, the fire demon dragged his chair an inch forward. It was enough to release me from the suffocating trap. I pulled in a breath of air and squeezed through the gap before settling into one of the empty chairs opposite his.
“Thanks,” I said, pressing a hand to my stomach. “There’s a lot of folk in here.”
“Most of the village. It’s pretty boring and quiet around here, so when something happens, we all flock to it.” He smiled and stuck out his hand. “I suppose I should welcome you to our little slice of paradise. Name’s Valdar.”
“I’m Frida.” I shook his hand, noting his fingers were covered in ink stains. “Are you a writer?”
“I sure am. If you saw the bookshop down the road, it’s mine.”
“You got any novels by Silva Sweetwater? I’m a big fan.”
“Did you say you’re a big fan of Silva Sweetwater ?” Rune said as he thundered up behind us. He deposited a frothing tankard on the table before me, then took the last remaining seat at the table. His brow was arched in a very exaggerated fashion.
I fought the blush heating my cheeks. “You’ve heard of her books? I didn’t think you were the target audience.”
Rune grinned. “I’m not. I didn’t think you would be, either. They’re quite raunchy, I hear.”
“And you don’t think a woman can enjoy a nice raunchy book now and again?”
Rune grunted and hoisted his tankard into his hand. I could have sworn a hint of pink dusted his moss-green cheeks. “‘Course she can. I just thought…”
“You thought what?” I prodded.
“Nevermind all that. Enjoy your ale,” he said.
Rune scratched the bottom of his tusk, frowning. My reading Silva Sweetwater went against everything he thought he knew about members of the Assassin’s Guild, something I hadn’t even considered. I should have brought it up at his cottage when I’d spotted all the books lying around. With every passing moment, he was becoming more and more convinced he had me wrong.
I lifted my tankard and angled it his way, then tipped the contents down my throat. The ale had a bitter edge to it, but it went down easy, sending a soothing warmth through my belly. As the minstrels broke out into an upbeat song, I gazed around the booming tavern, taking it all in. Everyone looked happy. Content. For a while, I just sat there, relishing it. Letting the happiness wash over me, filling my aching heart with the first moment of peace I’d truly felt since leaving Louisa’s ship. Rune sat beside me, doing the same.
Eventually, the minstrels took a break, and the roar of conversation rose to replace the sound of music.
“I’m surprised to see you here, Rune,” Valdar said, leaning back in his chair.
I arched a meaningful brow at Rune, but he ignored me. Instead, he took a long gulp of his ale, like he was stalling. He probably was.
When he finally set down his tankard, he said, “I’m here often. Guess it’s been too packed for you to notice.”
The skin between Rune’s brow pinched, and he looked away. He was lying right through his teeth about coming here often, and the skepticism on Valdar’s face only confirmed it. Rune wasn’t exactly the kind of person to blend in when he went somewhere.
“Sure, all right,” Valdar said, frowning. “Listen, I’m going to grab another ale. You two want a refill?”
Rune looked at me. I smiled and said, “That would be lovely, thank you.”
As soon as Valdar stood and vanished into the throng, Rune leaned sideways with a glint in his brown eyes. “He seems to like you. Any interest there on your side?”
I scrunched up my nose. “Where in fate’s name did you get that?”
“He offered to buy you a drink,” said Rune, his voice full of meaning.
“He offered to buy us both a drink.”
“Only because I’m sitting here. It would have been rude to ignore me. Want me to leave so you can get to know him?”
“What are you on about?” I shook my head, searching his expression for a sign that he was joking. And while he looked amused, he seemed to mean what he’d said. I cast my mind back to the moments before Valdar got up. The fire demon had seemed friendly enough, but it wasn’t like he was flirting ….oh.
Rune and his bloody traps. He couldn’t even sit back and enjoy the minstrels, so focused was he on tightening the noose around my neck. Though…I could hardly blame him. In his shoes, I’d probably do the same thing.
“I really don’t think he’s interested, Rune,” I said, shrugging. “Besides, he’s not really my type, anyway.”
“Oh? And what is your type?”
“I don’t know. It’s not a physical thing. I go for all types in that regard. But there’s got to be that spark. Someone who stirs something in me. It’s hard to put into words.”
“And he doesn’t give off sparks to you?” he asked.
“Not at the moment, no.”
“Most of the single folk in Oakwater would beg to differ,” Rune said wryly.
“Sounds like he’s got enough folk going for him, then.”
“Admittedly, he is over there, chatting up a pretty dwarf by the bar,” he said in a low voice, gesturing through a break in the crowd.
They were in an animated discussion, seemingly oblivious to everyone around them. I nodded, elbowing Rune in the side. “See, that’s what I’m talking about. They’ve got that spark.” I smiled when Valdar boomed his laughter, and the dwarven girl giggled with her hand on her mouth. “Good for them.”
“Except I don’t think we’re getting that round of ales now,” Rune said.
My smile widened. “No, I don’t think we are.”
A beat passed. “Are you really a fan of Silva Sweetwater?”
“Honestly? The biggest. I own almost her entire catalog, including some rare editions that are no longer in print. There’s only one title I don’t have. The Orc’s Bride. I’ve spent years trying to find it, but so many of that one got destroyed back during Isveig’s war…” My voice cracked, and I fell silent, tears stinging my eyes. It suddenly hit me that I was speaking as if those books were still mine. Like I could flip open their pages and read Silva’s words anytime I wanted—anytime I needed them. Because while I’d lived my life alone in my cottage, I’d always had her characters. I’d come to love them as though they were my own friends.
“Well, I suppose I don’t have any of them now,” I said quietly.
Rune frowned. “Sounds like they mean a lot to you.”
“I know it must seem silly to you, but those books were there for me when no one else was. They’re about love and friendship and finding your way in the world when everything seems stacked against you. I used to reread a couple of them once a year. In the summer, I’d grab a blanket and a book and go down to the lake. But I guess I won’t be doing that any longer…”
No, once I became an official member of the guild, I’d never read another word of a Silva Sweetwater novel. Or any other novel, for that matter. And while I’d known this—while I’d even taken the vows—it hadn’t really hit me until now.
Rune grunted, then stood.
I frowned up at him, and he towered over me with his husks glinting in the dim lighting. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going to get you that ale.” With a firm nod, he moved away from the table. I watched him push through the crowd. Despite his bulk, he didn’t shove others out of the way like a lesser man might. Instead, he gently wended through the throng disturbing no one else at all. Valdar saw him approach, pounded him on the back, then passed him two tankards.
By the time Rune returned to the tables, the minstrels had started their second set. We clinked our tankards together. I nearly downed the entire thing in one gulp, feeling the urge to drown my sorrows. I expected Rune to question me some more, to ask why I’d left a life and a home I so clearly loved. But he seemed to sense my melancholy and took to enjoying the show instead.
And so we sat there together, drinking ale and listening to the lilting pixie’s voice as she sang about the dwarves who lived under the mountain, their yearly contest to find the fittest among them, and their glowing gemstones that powered their underground world. Rune and I listened with rapt attention, occasionally exchanging a few words. When I found myself smiling after he told me another unexpected joke, I realized I was enjoying his company far more than I ought.
Maybe that would be all right, just for one night.