Chapter 42 Ginger
Ginger
Tandor dragged a barrel up from the cellar with a handful of dramatic heaves and grunts.
“What flavor is the cider today?” I asked. “Something new?”
He set the barrel onto the bar with a heavy thunk. “Another barrel of strawberry and sage. It’s been rather popular.”
My brows rose. “Oh, how fancy! Let me taste.” I held my hand out expectantly.
He rolled his eyes, but he moved to grab a goblet for me.
I knew the orc was excited to share his ciders.
He didn’t bother with just a dribble—he poured me an entire glass.
I snatched it from him and quickly lifted the rim to my mouth.
I knew by now not to doubt the orc’s creations—he was a better cider brewer than I was and, if I was being honest, he always had been.
The slightly bubbly liquid pooled on my tongue. It was deliciously refreshing, crisp but not too sweet.
I let Tandor suffer for a moment while I took a few additional sips and pretended to contemplate. I even furrowed my brows and cocked my head for dramatic effect to make him sweat.
And then I tilted the glass and drained the entire thing.
I set it in the wash basin with a clank and swiped the back of my hand across my mouth.
“Well?” Tandor asked, barely able to restrain a nervous grin.
I smiled back at him. “It’s perfect. But you knew that already.”
His cheeks were near to splitting. “It’s alright, huh? I thought so.”
A shiver rippled down my spine, and the pub darkened noticeably before returning to its normal glow.
Tandor glanced over my shoulder and clenched his jaw. “Your friend is back. Again.”
“My friend?” I asked, but then I turned to check.
Shade was settling into a table in the corner.
Weirdly enough, Chicken sat at the other stool.
Strange creature.
“Pour me another one of those.”
He wrinkled his nose. “For your friend? Are you sure?”
I curled my fingers impatiently. “Yep.”
“He better not waste it,” he grumbled, but he complied. He offered me the chilled goblet. “Do you want to take it, or shall I?”
I snatched the goblet from him in a fluid motion. “I’ve got this one. Carry on.”
I strode to the table in the corner, avoiding eye contact, and deposited the goblet on the table. “There you go,” I said quietly as I whirled, onto the next table.
“Ginger.”
I glanced shyly over my shoulder. “Need anything else? Stew?”
His brow furrowed. “Sit with me for a moment?”
I glanced around. The pub wasn’t busy, and it was my own establishment—I could take a break whenever I wanted.
But I was suddenly nervous. My cheeks heated.
“Sit with you?”
He nodded.
“Oh… Okay. Sure.”
I glanced at the stool the cat was sitting on to see that the creature was nowhere to be seen. Weird, I didn’t hear him leave.
I awkwardly sat down. I didn’t know what to do with my hands, so I settled for grabbing a towel from my apron and setting my palms on it.
That didn’t feel natural either, so I folded it into a small square and then squeezed it into a fist.
Shade cleared his throat.
I glanced up to meet his gaze to find him already staring at me.
“The weather is nice today,” I said. My voice sounded strange.
His eyes crinkled in a dazzling hint of a smile. “You want to talk about the weather?”
I shrugged. “There’s nothing wrong with talking about the weather.”
“Sure. Okay. Is this your favorite weather, then? Crisp and cloudy?”
I considered that. “One of them. I prefer warmer days. I like to run when it’s cold, though.”
He ran darkened fingertips idly over the stem of the goblet. I watched his hands so I could avoid his intense gaze. “You like to run.” He said this like a statement rather than a question.
“Yes.”
He nodded. “And do you run often?”
“As often as I can.”
I suddenly felt horribly rude. I was so nervous that I wasn’t asking any questions, I was just letting him interview me. I cleared my throat. “What’s your favorite?”
“Hmm?”
“Your favorite weather,” I clarified.
“I prefer nighttime, for obvious reasons. But temperature fluctuations don’t bother me much. It all feels cold here.”
What a strange answer. “Here as in Moonvale?”
He nodded slowly. “Moonvale especially. Aldova.”
“It is ridiculously warm in Sunhaven,” I argued.
“Sure. But there are hotter places.”
“I guess. And what do you do?”
“In general?” he asked.
I reached out and pushed the goblet closer to him. “Are you going to try that?”
He glanced down as though noticing the goblet for the first time. His eyebrow lifted. “What is it?”
“Cider.”
He lifted the goblet and swirled it around. His long, graceful fingers handled the glass with a dexterity that made me shiver. “Why is it… pink?”
I shrugged. “Strawberry. Just try it.”
He lifted the cider to his mouth. He took a sip, let the liquid rest in his mouth for a moment, and then swallowed. My eyes tracked the movement of his throat.
He set the goblet back on the table. “I walk a lot.”
“Pardon?”
“You asked me what I do. In general. I walk a lot.”
“Through the woods?” I asked, perplexed. “Around town?”
“Yes. I find that I have a lot of time to kill.”
“And do you… work? I guess you don’t, considering…” I wasn’t sure how to phrase the question without sounding rude.
“As in, do I have a job? No. I am the God of Shadows, recently returned from banishment. I am untethered at the moment.”
“Oh.”
“Does that displease you?”
I slid his goblet toward me. If he wasn’t going to drink it, I would.
I took a slow sip. “No, what you do with your time is your business. I would expect the God of Shadows to be rather busy.”
“You might be surprised.”
He reached out and took the goblet from me. He spun it around, where a drop of cider was still glistening on the rim from my sip.
He lifted the goblet to his mouth, intentionally pressing his mouth where mine had just been.
My belly felt suddenly warm. I shifted in my seat and crossed my legs. “You’ve just been waiting around town, preparing for the King's men to get you? When you’re not rescuing drowning dragons, that is.”
“It is what’s best, according to you folk.”
“And what do you think is best?”
“If it were up to me, I would simply be left alone.”
A frown tugged at my mouth. “Alone.”
He looked like he wanted to say more, but he refrained. “Yes.”
“So run, then. Hide somewhere you can’t be found.”
He sighed. His hand lifted, hovering for a moment in front of my face before settling onto my cheek. I held perfectly still, though butterflies roiled. “I cannot.”
“You could,” I insisted. “You have to.”
He shook his head, donning a sad smile. “Maybe.”
The lie hung thick in the air between us.
“You’re going to disappear,” I pleaded.
His fingers curled around the curve of my jaw. “I might.”
“You’re not going to let them take you away?”
He swallowed. “Of course not.”
“You’re going to save yourself. Promise me.”
He didn’t answer.
And I didn’t promise anything, either.
His hand fell away from my cheek, and I immediately mourned the loss of it.
Shade grabbed my palm, setting a pouch of coins into it. His eyes darted around the pub. “I’ll let you get back to work. For my ciders. And everyone else, here. Bring them all a cider.”
He stood to leave.
“Wait!” I called.
“Yes?”
I didn’t ask the question I really wanted the answer to. “Did you like the cider?” I asked instead.
His eyes dropped to my mouth before returning to my face. A mischievous smile tugged at his mouth. “Good day, Ginger.”
“Afew more days and they’ll be here, I reckon.” Daine set down his spoon and leaned back, stretching his shoulders.
I couldn’t help but eavesdrop. I wiped down a nearby table more thoroughly than was strictly necessary.
“Takes, what, three days to get to Sunhaven on horseback?”
“These days, sometimes less.”
“Think they’ll come in swords blazing?”
“To take down that guy? Surely.”
I cringed. He wouldn’t put up a fight—I knew he wouldn’t.
A sword was no match for shadows made of steel.
I silently prayed that he would be gone before they arrived.
The turmoil nearly tore me in two. Selfishly, I wanted Shade to stay.
We had a rough start, but somehow, I had grown to actually… like him. To care for him. My heart squeezed at the thought of never seeing him again.
The other part of me, the part with the brain, wanted him to run. To save himself.
My fingers cramped as I scrubbed the table even harder.