Chapter 3 #2
I had sent my parents to their new house on the coast before I set out on the spider quest, with the promise I’d join them soon. Zig had chosen to stay behind. I’d thought his intention was to wait for me, but his statement proved otherwise.
“You could’ve gone with them.”
He laughed, tossing his head back. “To do what? Watch the waves roll in, drop a line in the sea, or frolic on the beach? Oh wait, be grateful to my sister for providing a boring life for me? No thanks.”
“But our family,” I said, heart sinking. “We were all going. That was the plan.”
Zig made a face. “That was your plan. Not mine. I’ll stay here, where there is plenty to entertain me and I can earn my own living.”
“You could earn a living there.”
Zig’s eyebrow twitched. “Yes, until all the sailors and fishermen become wise. Here there are tourists aplenty. A populace that is constantly changing is ripe for the picking.”
I scoffed. “So, you have been swindling.”
His eyes narrowed. “I don’t swindle. I’m just good at playing games. It’s not my fault that the folks I play against can’t keep track of their own cards.”
It wasn’t worth arguing with Zig. I had never been able to talk him out of things when he had his mind set on them. He was stubborn. But I could be too. I’d get him to the coast even if I had to tie him in a sack and drag him there.
A pretty girl with blond hair served us two pints of ale, the froth spilling over the lips of the full tankards as she set them down. The girl straightened, then twisted her hands in her apron and stared at me with unblinking eyes. After a moment of silence, she retreated toward the bar.
Zig tented his fingers, a smirk playing around the edge of his mouth. “Looks like you have an adoring fan.”
I glanced at the bar area and saw her openly staring at me. She smiled, wide and bright, showing off a row of pretty teeth, and twirled her hair around her finger.
Ugh. He was right. My annoyance with Zig was already simmering under my skin, and despite the night’s rest in the grotto, exhaustion tugged behind my eyes.
An encounter with a fan was the last thing I needed.
I took a sip of the ale and began to plan my escape before she became emboldened and wanted to talk with me. The horror.
“Drink quickly so we can get out of here.”
He raised a questioning eyebrow and grabbed his cup, taking a large gulp. “What? Did the Lady in the Sea ask for her pearl back?”
I didn’t even know if the Lady in the Sea knew her pearl was missing. I’d found it when it had washed up on the shore after a terrible storm years ago.
“Or did the manticore want to defend its honor and challenge you to a fight?”
There was no fight with the manticore the first time, just the easiest riddle I’d ever solved. Well, Dave and I solved. The manticore probably gave us an easy one because Dave and he were fellow ancients.
“Or did the Harpy want revenge? Wait, did you kill that one? Or… what was that other one… the lion with the wings…” He tapped his fingers on the table. “Oh! The griffin.”
I frowned. “Those creatures are all ancients, and if you had ever listened to our parents’ tales, you would know it is nearly impossible to kill an ancient.
” I had once… inadvertently, at the very beginning of my career.
A happy accident, some would say, that resulted in the large bearskin hung on the wall behind the thrones.
It was my introduction to questing and the beginning of Lord Ethan’s deep-seated hatred.
“They are the closest things to deities that walk in our realm.”
Zig took a swig of his drink. “Whatever.” A coin appeared on the backs of his fingers, and he made it dance along his knuckles, before making it disappear into his palm with a twitch. “Why are you in such a pissy mood?”
I sagged against the back of the chair. “I’m tired.”
“So you’ve said. Multiple times. Go home and take a nap.”
“No, it’s not that kind of tired.” I shook my head. “I’m tired of it all, Zig. This was my last quest. I’m done.”
“What? Now?” He gestured toward the pints of ale. “You’re at the height of your fame. The court loves you. Bards spin tales. Fangirls swoon in your presence.” He nodded to where the barmaid watched us intently.
She caught my gaze and flushed. Oh no, she looked like she was going to come over.
I was horrible at dealing with fans and with people in general.
I suddenly found myself wishing Aven were here.
They were always better at socializing than I was.
As much as I hated to admit it, they’d saved me at court more than once or twice.
“Why quit now?” Zig asked.
“Huh?” I asked.
Zig raised an eyebrow. “I said, why quit now that you are at peak celebrity?”
“It was never about glory or recognition.”
“No, of course not,” he said, and drank down the dregs of his cup.
“Look, I think we should go.” I gathered my belongings just as a faint twang of plucked strings wafted across the room, and the low babble of conversation softened.
“Forgot you were perfect,” he muttered.
“That’s not true. I’m far from—”
“And now it’s time to listen to the story,” a bard began, his singsong voice and the strumming from his lute cutting me off, “of the Brave Ellinore at the start of her glory.”
Zig and I both groaned.
“Oh, ancients save me,” he said, covering his face with his hands.
“Ugh,” I agreed. “I hate this one.”
“It’s literally about you.”
“I know and it’s ridiculous.” And it’s all wrong, I wanted to say, but the words stuck in my throat. That wasn’t a public conversation. I didn’t know how Zig would react when I finally told him the truth about my questing exploits. If I ever told him.
We were close once. Closer than regular siblings, being twins born only minutes apart.
And Zig was right—we were lucky, according to our parents.
For the first twelve years of our lives, we did everything together.
We ran the fields behind our home, weaved flower crowns, and dodged bees as we stole honey from their hives.
We played with baby goats and rolled in the mud with piglets.
We giggled all through the day, and all through the night when we were supposed to be sleeping.
But we grew up and grew apart after the events of the bard’s song, the first time I’d been dragged in front of the royal court and been given a purse of gold.
I had no idea how he would handle the truth of what I’d done since, or more specifically, hadn’t done.
If it would bring us closer or drive the final wedge between us.
I shuddered when the bard reached a high note on a false rhyme while regaling the crowd with the tale of the Ursa. Zig winced. He downed the remainder of my drink and then staggered to his feet.
“The one about the Golden Dragon is better,” he muttered as he dropped a few coins onto the table.
I stood and grabbed his arm. He immediately wrenched out of my grasp.
“I’m leaving,” he said. “Getting a head start on my month’s ban. You stay, though. Have fun. Bask in the adoration of your fans.”
I frowned, my middle twisting at Zig’s thinly veiled resentment. The bard’s voice took on a desperate edge as he saw Zig and me heading toward the exit, but I ignored him and followed Zig into the sunlit street.
“Let’s go home.” I grabbed Bluebell’s reins. “We can talk. It’ll be like old times.”
Zig burst into obnoxious laughter. “You go home. I’m going to another tavern.”
“Zig…,” I said with a sigh. “I’ve been away and—”
“Yes,” he said, walking down the street toward the Green Serpent with long-legged strides, “you’ve been away.
You left me to my own devices. And vices, I might add.
” He wagged a finger at me. He turned and walked backward, his brown eyes dagger-sharp despite the ale.
“You go do your… noble thing and let me do my… not-so-noble things, and I’ll see you when I see you. Okay? Okay.”
Then he dashed through the door of the Green Serpent without so much as a goodbye.