Chapter 19
Nineteen
The Tusk & Tail buzzed with chatter as Sass worked the crowd, doling out afternoon scones while Vaskel pulled the occasional pint for those patrons who didn’t prefer chai.
It should have been comforting, this familiar hum of conversation, but Vaskel couldn't shake the knot of tension coiled in his stomach.
He'd been scanning the tavern all day, looking for one particular dwarf among the many faces.
Usually, Thrain would hold court at one of the long tables, his voice booming over the general din as he munched on scones and regaled anyone within earshot with increasingly elaborate tales. But now, there was no sign of him.
"Remember that time in Port Frey?" Rog had claimed the stool directly across from Vaskel, crumbly bits of scone littering his blue beard. "When you convinced that merchant you were a traveling duke?"
"Mmm," Vaskel responded, mindlessly polishing a pewter mug while his eyes swept the room again.
"You had him so convinced, he gave us free room and board for a week." Rog chuckled. "Course, we had to leave town pretty quick when the real duke showed up."
"Right." Vaskel forced a smile, but his attention was elsewhere. Where was Thrain? More importantly, where was Marina? The two had been together this morning, and they’d been heading down the road that led to Grayhelm Castle. If the dwarf didn’t reappear soon, Vaskel would need to mount a search.
“You're not listening to a word I'm saying, are you?" Rog's voice held amusement rather than offense.
"Sorry,” Vaskel stopped polishing the sparkling mug. "Long day."
Rog studied him with sharp eyes that missed nothing, despite his jovial demeanor. "Anything you want to talk about?"
Before Vaskel could plan a response that wasn't a complete lie, the door opened with a burst of cold air. His head snapped up, but it was only Tinpin, shaking snow from his burgundy coat.
"Looking for someone?" Rog asked, his blue brows lifting.
"Just keeping an eye on the patrons.” Vaskel moved down the bar to get a clean dishcloth, not bothering to look when the door opened and closed again.
Then he breathed in the scent of bergamot and herbs, turning to see Iris approaching the bar, her dark curls pinned up in a loose bun that was already beginning to escape its coil, wisps framing her face.
She wore a deep green dress instead of her usual patchwork skirts, and something in his chest tightened at the sight of her.
“A moment?” she said as she walked past.
He nodded, moving to the far end of the bar where there were fewer customers.
When they were as alone as they could be in the bustling tavern, she hopped onto a stool and leaned over the bar. “You snuck out before I woke up.”
“And you didn’t wake me when I drifted off in your armchair,” he replied.
She smiled at this. “You were clearly exhausted. Besides, it was a good excuse for me to grab a few winks.”
He glanced at the sun shining through the windows. “Did you just wake up?”
She shook her head with a chuckle. “As if the villagers would let me. But when I haven’t been doling out throat tonics and healing powders, I’ve been scouring more books.”
“Any solutions?”
She bit her bottom lip as she met his gaze. “No, but I came to the realization that we need help.”
He opened his mouth to argue, but she held up a hand. “We don’t have to tell all your friends, but I can’t ignore the fact that we have an elf in our midst. He helped when Sass had a magical issue. We would be foolish not to ask for his insight.”
She was right. It would be foolish to ignore Erindil’s abilities. Even if he couldn’t wield magic like a trained mage, elves possessed natural powers and highly tuned perception.
“Agreed.” He nodded, but the movement and his voice were wooden. Iris cocked her head at him, a question that didn’t need a voice.
"Marina was in the market this morning," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “She’d shed her usual attire and was trying to blend in as a villager.”
“She’s no longer hiding?”
Vaskel shrugged. “She’s unpredictable, but it’s all part of her plan. Just like charming Thrain."
Iris's eyes widened slightly. "Sass's friend? That Thrain?”
“Who else?” he said, frustration making his words sharp. "She's using him for something. To get to me, most likely.”
The thought that Marina could have been watching him and observing who his friends were made anger roil in his chest.
"We won’t let anyone get hurt,” Iris said, and her hand found his on the bar, cool fingers wrapping around his clenched fist. The touch sent a jolt through him that had nothing to do with the soul bind.
Then the door opened again. This time, it was Thrain.
Relief flooded through Vaskel so powerfully his knees almost buckled. Then the relief died in his throat.
Marina stepped through the door right behind Thrain, shaking snowflakes from her dark hair. She still wore her village disguise, but the modest brown dress couldn't hide what she was, not from someone who knew her true nature.
Thrain said something that made her laugh again, the sound cutting through the tavern noise like a blade through silk.
Several heads turned, both men's and women’s faces going slack with appreciation, and only a very few sharpening with the instinctive wariness prey feels when a hunter enters their territory.
Marina's gaze swept the room, cataloguing exits, threats, and opportunities like she always did. Like Vaskel himself did instinctively after decades of adventuring. It took her less than three seconds to locate him at the bar.
Their eyes locked before her gaze dropped to where Iris's hand still rested on his. Marina's lips curved into a smile like a predator discovering exactly the weakness she'd been looking for. The temperature in the tavern seemed to drop ten degrees despite the crackling fire.
Vaskel jerked his hand back and turned away, but it was too late. Marina had seen, and now she’s discovered an even more powerful weapon to use against him.