Chapter 11
Four days later
Ronan Diffydd, so-called for being renowned as faithless, wasn’t one to cater to anyone’s whims. He hated most creatures and none as much as the dead centaur spy in front of him.
“You can’t get any news for Dash if you keep killing every spy we find.”
He grimaced at Dubhdara, an elfin by-blow and friend. Almost even in height to him, Dove had blond hair and a set of piercing blue eyes. Women often said they were celestial, unlike Ronan’s that were a deep stormy gray.
“Why are you here, Dove?”
“To annoy you and to remind you that we’re trying to find useful information. Hard for the dead to give us that information when they can’t speak.” He sighed heavily as he swept a meaningful gaze over the corpse of the spy.
“Not that hard.” He pulled the small vial from his pocket and dribbled the potion onto the lips of the centaur. “Deadspeak does wonders for those who want to take their secrets to the grave.”
Dove actually looked impressed.
Ronan knelt down beside the spy. “Why are you in Licordia?”
“To find the rebels who want to bring down King Dash.”
Made sense. They’d be easy for Meara to turn and use to harm his friend. “Is your queen getting ready to invade?”
“No.”
Dove sighed. “Is this necessary?”
“No.” The centaur returned to death.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Ronan rose to his feet to stare at Dove. “You know I only have three questions I can ask.”
“Sorry. I didn’t think he’d answer it. It was directed at you.”
Rolling his eyes, Ronan wanted to beat the shit out of him. Even if it was an honest mistake. Hell, even he’d made it in the past.
Still…
“Are you a toddler?”
“No. I’m an idiot. You know that.” Dove’s unexpected admission took the fury from him.
“At least you know it.”
Dove flashed him a grin. It was hard to hate anyone with that amount of charisma.
But Ronan really wanted to at the moment.
“So are we burning the body or digging a really big hole?”
A twinge of guilt went through him. Maybe he shouldn’t have been so rough, but given the fact that the centaur had almost gutted him…
“I can’t dig at the moment.” He lifted his shirt to show the nasty stab wound to Dove. “You missed the prelude to this.”
“Apparently. Damn. You still have any internal organs left inside you?”
It didn’t feel like it. “I’ll be fine.” He hoped.
Sighing, Dove used his powers to start a fire.
Ronan moved downwind. Ever since their childhood, he’d never been able to stomach the smell of burning flesh. It brought back too many years of their suffering.
But he was grateful that part of their past didn’t seem to faze Dove at all.
He moved over to the side to sit on a rock when he heard a hawk’s cry.
Dove paused to look up. “What’s that?”
Ronan called out to the bird.
The large brown hawk circled before it landed on the ground beside him. I have a message for you, my lord.
“From?”
Xaydin. He needs you.
Dove turned to watch them. “What’s going on?”
“He says that Xaydin needs me.”
That had the same effect on Dove that it had on him. Xaydin never asked for assistance. Not in all the years they’d known each other. It wasn’t in him.
So if he reached out, it wasn’t on a whim and it meant something dire.
“What’s happened?” Dove asked the hawk,
“He doesn’t know. He’s not the first messenger. All he knows is that Xaydin sent word to find me and go to him.”
“Dear gods…he’s dying.”
That was the most likely outcome for this. Ronan couldn’t think of any other reason for Xaydin to send such a message. It wasn’t like the beast needed help of any kind.
“Should we tell Dash?” Ronan asked.
“I’ll go tell him. You get to Xaydin. I’ll only slow you down.”
Dove was right about that. It’d be a lot faster for him to search as a hawk than have to worry about a land-based tagalong.
Ronan stroked the hawk’s back feathers. “I’ll send word as soon as I know something.”
“Rendezvous later.”
Ronan inclined his head before he switched forms and flew off with his messenger. This was a day none of them thought would ever come.
Xaydin asking for help.
Panicking, he headed off in the direction the hawk sent him, praying he wouldn’t be too late. For all he knew, this could be a trap.
Not that it mattered. If one Outlaw was in trouble, they all were. Because the one oath they’d sworn to each other was that no member of their family would ever be left out on their own.
The world might have failed them when they were young, but they would never fail each other.
I’m coming, brother.
He just hoped he wasn’t coming too late.
Xaydin literally jumped as someone slammed a tankard down by his arm. His heart settled as he realized it was only Gisela trying to get his attention.
“Was that necessary?”
“You told me to let you know when you were giving yourself away.” She glanced over to where the imposter sat, hustling fortunes, then gave him a pointed glare. “You’re being obvious in your glower and staring.”
That had always been a problem for him. He wasn’t one to hide his emotions well. Especially not his fury.
“It bothers me that he’s all happy in his role while thinking we’re idiots.”
She nudged the tankard toward him. “Keep drinking, butterbean.”
“Butterbean?” He deepened his scowl.
“Form of endearment. You look like you could use one.”
He grunted as she took a seat next to him. It should bother him how comfortable he’d become with her. Normally, he’d be more than ready to ride off and find solitude after this many days spent in the company of another.
She didn’t invoke his desire to run.
Rather, he liked conversing with her. She was funny and observant.
If it wasn’t for her lethality, he might even call her sweet. Shame really. But for her mother, she’d have made a perfect lady.
And that was what she should have been. A woman wrapped in protection who knew nothing of how ugly life could be. How vicious others were.
But was that really a benefit? Those who didn’t know were prey for those like her mother.
Like his uncle.
They didn’t constantly sweep their gaze at the door, watching every creature who came and went. They didn’t make sure to keep their backs unexposed.
But it made him feel good that she currently had her back to him while she scanned the room.
Somehow, she’d learned to trust him. Yet what scared him most was the fact that he was beginning to trust her, too. Something about sharing their secret over the fake Masakage had bonded them. It was that need for comradery in suffering that allowed them to understand each other.
Rely on the other even when they knew it wasn’t wise. But what choice did they have?
All they had was each other.
The true test would come once the threat was eliminated.
Sighing, Xaydin motioned for a server.
The ogress took one look at Gisela and curled her lip.
“Don’t,” he warned, pulling out gold coins. “Bring us some pork and porridge. Extra if you can find honey cake.”
Her eyes widened appreciatively on the amount he was offering. “Yes, my lord. Is there anything else you need?”
A bed would be nice.
One to share, even nicer.
But he wouldn’t push his luck. “That’ll do for now.”
She scurried off.
Gisela turned toward him with an arched brow. “You certainly know how to handle others.”
Whenever she said things like that, he suspected it was to get a rise from him…in more ways than one.
It had to be. She wasn’t that innocent.
Little did she know, one of the rises happened almost every time she drew near him.
Sighing in unspent irritation, he downed his ale. “Did you find out anything interesting in your sweep of the room?”
“Only that we’re a day and a half out from reaching Cryxa. The docks there are where we’ll supposedly find Marauder ships in port.”
So nothing he didn’t already know. But he wasn’t about to tell her that. She didn’t like it when she didn’t feel useful.
“Our information better be right.” It seemed a little pat for a merman to be in love with a Marauder. But then it made sense. Who better to fall in love with a fish than a human who spent most of their life on a boat?
Pat or not, it made logical sense.
She sat beside him and leaned in close. “Have you spoken anymore with your real brother?”
He shook his head. “I don’t want the other one to get suspicious.” He cut a meaningful glance toward the Masakage in the corner, laying out cards. Something his Masakage didn’t do. He read coins and tea leaves.
Masakage had always claimed the cards took a price he wasn’t willing to pay.
While Xaydin had been curious about that, he hadn’t been curious enough to pursue a more definitive answer. Not that he was even sure Masakage would answer under torture. His brother cherished secrets.
She took a sip of her ale. “Do you think word has reached Ronan yet?”
He shrugged. “I won’t know until he appears.”
“That’s unfortunate. One would think with all the magic that there was an easier way to stay in touch.”
“There are other ways.”
That surprised her. “Such as?”
“I can use a mirror to talk to Candara anytime I choose.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “Or any shiny object, really.”
“How would you do that?”
The hairs on the back of his neck rose. But that was just his suspicious nature. He doubted if she’d ever use the information against him.
Then again, that was the point of betrayal. It always came from a trusted hand. The one you’d never believe would do such a godawful thing.
Gisela offered him a kind smile. “I understand. I wouldn’t trust me either. It was a thoughtless thing to ask. I was just curious is all.”
And that only made him want to trust her more. Because she understood and backed off without his having to explain it.
She was a rarity in this world, and he was jaded enough to appreciate her unique insights.
Stifling a yawn, Gisela drank the last of her ale. “I’m going up to rest…provided I don’t get stopped again by some awful-meaning ogre or troll telling me I don’t belong here. No offense, but I can’t wait to get out of Vaskalia.”