CHAPTER 14 TYCHO #2
But then the barkeep slaps the counter and whistles through his teeth.
“Is that Gregor’s boy, finally back after all these years?
How’s your da? Still keeping well?” Without waiting for an answer, he turns his head and calls over his shoulder to one of the barmaids.
“Look here, Wenda! Your long- lost love is back.”
Across the room, a young woman with waist- length copper braids and bright freckles on her cheeks lights up. “Malin!” she squeals. “You came back.”
Apparently, the barkeep’s recognition has relaxed the tenor of the room, because the low rumble of conversation picks up again. But beside me, Malin’s cheeks are turning red. “Silver hell,” he mutters under his breath.
“I guess you found a little time to do more than just shovel manure,” I say.
“I hate you.”
Then Wenda appears in front of him, all but grabbing hold of his sleeve. “So many stripes,” she breathes, batting her eyelashes up at him. “You must have accomplished a lot while you were gone. But I knew you’d be back.”
I clap him on the shoulder. “Go catch up with your . . . friend,” I say. “We’ll find a table, Captain.”
Wenda’s eyebrows go up, and her voice goes even more breathy. “Captain.”
Malin glares at me, but I smile and look at the others. “Come on.”
But when we reach a table, I realize that this has left me with Leo, Jax, and Sephran as my companions. When we sit down, silence drops like a blanket thrown over a fire.
I think of that moment when Malin caught my arm and said he’d have to fix this, and I said I would handle it. I guess that means I have to.
So I sigh and unbuckle a pouch on my belt, withdrawing a deck of cards— though as soon as I start to shuffle, I wonder what I’ll do if they refuse to play. I hate that my thoughts are so full of doubt. I shuffle longer than I need to.
A different barmaid stops by the table, skirts swirling around her legs. She sets a basket of crusty bread in the center of the table, along with a small pot of honey. “Ale for you boys?” she says.
“Yes,” I say gratefully. “Please.”
Maybe I sound too desperate, because Sephran and Jax exchange a glance, though Leo gives her a smile and says, “Sure.”
Jax finally looks up. “Hot tea. Please.”
“Same,” says Sephran.
I have no idea why that sounds significant, but it does.
I should be making easy conversation with the barmaid about the goings- on in Willminton, but instead, my thoughts lock on whatever just happened between Sephran and Jax.
In my silence, the barmaid gives them a nod and scurries off, leaving me with an overly shuffled deck of cards in my hands.
I need a scraver to tear through the ceiling or Truthbringers to storm through the door or even just a random patron to start a barfight, because this is brutal.
My eyes stay fixed on my hands as I deal, snapping out the requisite cards for Mules and Mares. I brace myself, ready for them to shove the cards back at me— or, worse, simply ignore them.
But no, they all pick up their hands easily, reminding me that soldiers can quite literally be in the midst of a war, but a chance to play cards or dice is always welcome.
“Mules and Mares,” I say to Jax. “Do you know it?”
He inhales to answer, but Sephran says, “He knows it.”
His tone is sharp, and I really don’t understand what I’ve done to cause so much aggravation. I can feel my hackles rise.
But Jax glances at him, then back at me. “Yes, Tycho. I know it.”
Something in his voice pulls the aggression out of me. Every time he speaks Emberish, it’s so unexpected. It’s fascinating to hear his Syssal accent curl around the words, softening every edge. I wish things weren’t so rocky between us, because I long to hear it more.
I clear my throat and look at my cards. I have a queen and a three— a mare and a mule— which is a fairly good hand.
I chose this game because it’s slow and calculated, with several rounds of betting, and it’ll be easy for Malin to join us when he’s done with Wenda.
But when I toss a copper on the table and glance over, Malin has actually taken a seat at the bar, and he’s talking to the barkeep now.
Maybe they’re catching up on old times, but I know Malin pretty well by now, and I’m sure he’s fishing for information.
At least one of us is getting something done.
Jax tosses a copper to match my bet, but Sephran tosses two in the middle of the table, upping the ante. Leo raises his eyebrows and lays down his cards to fold.
Sephran is staring at me boldly.
Prick, I think. I toss another copper in. Jax glances between us and does the same.
Just then, the barmaid returns with our drinks. Ale for me and Leo, tea for Jax and Sephran.
I want to drain the whole thing and ask for another.
Instead, I just lay out the next card— a three, giving me a pair— and toss out another copper. Again, Sephran raises the bet to two.
Fine. I match his bet. Jax folds, leaving me and Sephran in the game.
I lay out another card. This time it’s a queen, giving me two pair. My heart skips a little. The only way Sephran could beat me is if he had two queens or two threes in his hand, which is unlikely. Then again, he’s been betting hard the whole time, so maybe he feels confident.
All right, then. He can prove it. I toss a silver onto the table.
“Whoa!” Leo whistles through his teeth. “Big money.”
Sephran has gone still, and he’s staring at that coin. For a moment,
I feel triumphant, thinking I’ve called his bluff, and now he’ll fold. But then he scowls, still considering, and I realize the full impact of what Leo meant.
Betting a silver would mean risking a lot of money for a soldier, especially since he’s already bet a handful of coppers. Meanwhile, I’ve been tossing down coins like they don’t matter. Now I’m the one who looks like a prick.
Regret curls in my gut. I might have a good hand, but I didn’t intend to shame him.
“Wait,” I say, reaching out. “I’ll take it back—”
Sephran knocks my hand away, the movement quick and aggressive. “Don’t you dare.”
“Fine,” I snap. “Then call my bet or fold your cards.”
He stares at that silver again, biting his lip. Then he swears under his breath and folds. When he tosses them down, they’re faceup.
He did have two threes. If I’d had two queens, I would’ve beaten him, but I didn’t. He could’ve won.
I frown, but he’s already looking away, sitting back in his chair, ignoring me. Mules and Mares is a betting game— a bluffing game— but it doesn’t feel like I’ve won anything at all. Instead, it feels like I bullied him into it.
I hate this, and we’ve only played one hand. I shuffle all the cards back into my hands, skimming them across each other to start a new deck. While I deal, Malin makes his way over, carrying a stein of ale.
He drops down onto the bench beside me as if he’s completely unaware of any tension. “Mules and Mares?” he says. “Deal me in.”
I do automatically, but I barely want to play myself anymore.
While I flip the cards onto the table, he drops his voice. “I talked to the barkeep. He said a lot of people are worried about the creature returning to Emberfall, but no one has seen anything in weeks. So I don’t think they’ve had any scraver attacks.”
“Good,” I say absently. My attention is completely focused on Jax, who’s leaned close to Sephran to say something low enough that I can’t hear. A strand of hair has escaped the knot at the back of his neck, and I desperately want to reach out and tuck it back, the way I once would have.
The thought reminds me of the way I saw Sephran tug his hair nonchalantly this morning, and a spark of agitation rolls through me. I suddenly don’t regret playing that silver at all.
“There are a lot of mixed feelings about the king, though,” Malin continues. “It seems like some of the Truthbringer rhetoric has made the rounds.”
That gets my attention, and my hands go still on my cards. “What does that mean?”
He shrugs a little. “They’re wary of his magic. They’re worried he could summon another monster to terrorize the country.”
Leo goes a little pale, his eyes widening. “Could he do that?”
I shake my head. “No,” I scoff, because the last thing Grey needs is his own soldiers thinking he’s a potential threat.
But Grey could. I know he could. I’ve seen it.
Malin’s eyes flick my way, and I know he hears the lie.
“Did you get the sense that any Truthbringers are here?” I say to him so we can move away from the king’s magic.
“No,” he says. “Not in Willminton. But Wenda said she’s heard some gossip from Gaulter, because her sister lives over there. There’s apparently a tourney there that draws people from miles away, and they’ve been seeing a lot of people from Syhl Shallow. She said they show up with silver to spare.”
Huh. That’s surprising. People from Syhl Shallow tend to have a disdainful view of Emberfall, especially among the nobility, so I can’t really see them spending a lot of coin at a tourney. Gaulter is also the same city where I originally found Nakiis in a cage. Maybe that’s significant.
And if it is, I wonder if we’re potentially walking right into a hotbed of Truthbringers. Anyone carrying a bunch of silver is sure to be armed, and likely backed by guards. Lord Alek used to travel with two or three, and he himself wore as many weapons as a soldier.
“Do you still want me to take a message back to Ironrose Castle?” Leo says, glancing between us. “Or should I stay with you?” I can tell from his tone that he’s hoping for the latter.
Malin glances at me. “Gaulter is another full day’s ride, right?”
“If we leave at daybreak, we’ll be lucky to make it by dinner.” I hesitate, thinking. I hate to lose a soldier, and I already sent a coded message. But I still have no way to be sure the king will get it— and I didn’t know about Truthbringers possibly gathering in Gaulter.
Just as I’m wondering if I could somehow send another message in code, Jax says, “In Gaulter, we will not be far from . . . from Crystal Palace.” He says the words carefully, glancing between us, so I can’t tell if he’s unsure of the words or the distance.
But then he adds, “And you can deliver message to queen.” He hesitates. “Yes?”
“Yes,” I say slowly, because it’s not a terrible idea. We’re closer to the Crystal Palace even here. I just don’t know what’s happening in Syhl Shallow, and crossing the border right now feels like a risk.
Then again all of this feels like a risk. It’s the whole reason Rhen sent me with a small team at all.
Sephran is looking across the table at Malin. “Maybe our captain has an idea.”
Malin flicks his eyes skyward. “Knock it off.”
Sephran offers him a halfhearted salute and practically rolls his eyes in return. “Yes, sir.”
“I said, knock it off.” Mal’s voice grows sharp, turning it into an order, and I watch the words land. Sephran draws himself up as belligerence and betrayal march across his expression.
I’d enjoy it if I hadn’t just shamed him into laying down his cards.
“Yes, sir,” Sephran says, and this time his voice is as tight and formal as mine is when I’m unhappy.
Then they just stare at each other, as if this is a standoff on a battlefield instead of a sticky table in the middle of a tavern.
Leo clears his throat. “So . . . um. . . am I going back to Ironrose? Or continuing on?”
Malin breaks the staring match and looks at him. “We’ll continue on. Depending on what we discover in Gaulter, we’ll send you back from there— or press on for the Crystal Palace.” He looks to me for confirmation, and his voice is just as clipped. “Agreed?”
“Agreed,” I say.
“Good,” says Malin. He takes a hearty swig of his ale.
After that mess, so do I.
But then I realize Jax is watching me, his hazel- green eyes glinting in the light of the lanterns strung about the tavern, and I set down the stein. His eyes don’t leave mine, but he picks up his mug of tea, blows steam off the top, and takes a sip.
Beside him, Sephran does the same thing.