Chapter 42
Forty-Two
Vaskel walked woodenly from the tavern, Crumpet riding on his shoulder. Beside him, Thrain cleared his throat and swung his arms as he took long steps to keep pace with the hellkin and elf.
“No one kissed me for good luck,” the dwarf groused as they headed down the snow-trodden road toward the bridge.
“Nor me,” Erindil said, his hands folded neatly in front of him as he walked, “although my future doesn’t hang in the balance.”
“Sass kissed me,” Val called from where she and Korl were bringing up the rear of the party.
Thrain stole a look at Vaskel. “You have more to lose than the rest of us. You think that’s why she kissed you?”
Vaskel wanted to say that he didn’t know why Iris had kissed him, but that would have been a lie. She’d kissed him for the very reason he’d been making excuses to visit her shop, although he sorely wished that he’d known she felt the same before this moment.
“The apothecary clearly has feelings for our charming hellkin friend.” Erindil tipped his head to Vaskel. “Not that anyone could blame her. You’re a handsome chap, if you don’t mind horns.”
“Thanks,” Vaskel muttered, reasonably sure that had been a compliment.
“You and Iris, eh?” Thrain nodded slowly. “You could have mentioned something, you know.”
“There was nothing to mention.” Vaskel’s lips still buzzed from the kiss, and he wrestled the urge to press his fingers to his mouth.
“That kiss begged to differ,” Val said.
Thrain’s laugh was a rumble that shook his chest. “Aye, it did.”
Crumpet chittered softly, as if agreeing with the guard and the dwarf.
Vaskel’s mind whirled as thoughts of Iris flooded his head—her fierce expression as she’d pulled him to her, the dazed look in her eyes when she’d released him, and the softness of her mouth against his. For a moment, he forgot where they were going entirely.
“As much as I delight in discussing romance,” Erindil said, “we should focus on the task at hand, don’t you think?”
Vaskel gave his head a brief shake, as if to dislodge thoughts of Iris. “We should. Marina isn’t someone to underestimate. She’s clever and usually one step ahead of everyone else.”
“Except for us.” Thrain jerked a thumb toward his chest. “This time we’ve got the advantage.”
Vaskel wasn’t sure if that was true. They had some things in their favor, but Marina was no easy mark.
As they approached the bridge, he looked down the main village thoroughfare, but it was deserted. The shops were dark, and the market stalls shuttered and empty. Only a distant neigh from the stables and an even more faraway hoot of an owl broke the winter night’s hush.
“You said she’s staying at the castle,” the elf asked, his gaze going to the stone edifice peeking over the treetops.
Vaskel made a gruff sound in his throat. “Pretending to be a healer.” He remembered spotting the elf heading to the castle. “You’ve been there recently, haven’t you?”
“Me?” Erindil shook his head. “At the castle? My dear boy, I’ve been at the encampment all day.
You must be mistaken.” He frowned. “But you’re not the first person to think they’ve seen me somewhere I haven’t been.
That dear halfling baker was certain he’d sold me a bag of sweet rolls when I hadn’t even set foot in the village that day. ”
“Is it possible you have a twin?” Vaskel asked.
The elf looked scandalized by this suggestion. “Absolutely not. There is no one exactly like me.”
“I’ll agree with that,” Thrain said, shooting Erindil a side-eye glance.
“You sure you don’t want us to smooth the way with the castle guards?” Val called up as they crossed the ice-slicked bridge.
“Too much fuss,” Thrain answered before Vaskel could. “The guards have seen me there before with Marina. They’ll let me through, especially if I sell them my sad story of heartbreak.”
Vaskel had to admire the way the dwarf had bounced back from his rejection. He’d seen lesser men fall into despair over the beautiful hellkin.
Once they were over the bridge, they took the path leading to the castle, with Val and Korl dropping farther and farther behind.
“We’ll wait here,” Korl said when they were within sight of the castle entrance.
“You need anything,” Val added, straightening her quilted chest armor. “You call out.”
Vaskel hesitated before continuing, locking eyes with Korl for a moment. “If I don’t—”
“You will,” the orc interrupted before he could finish. “You have to stand up with me at my wedding.”
Vaskel’s throat tightened, and he pressed his lips together, unable to speak.
Korl gave a sharp nod, as if it had been decided. “We’ll see you when it’s done.”
Thrain rocked back on his heels, glancing between Korl and Vaskel and clearing his throat. Even Crumpet cooed softly on Vaskel’s shoulder.
Only Erindil seemed unaffected, rubbing his hands when they continued on their journey and left Korl and Val behind. “I suppose we shouldn’t all go inside the castle either, although I don’t know how much help I can be if I don’t know what’s happening.”
“I’ll go inside alone,” Thrain announced as the stone walls of the castle loomed larger. “That makes the most sense. If Marina is in her room, that’s one floor up on the west wing.”
Three doors down, if Vaskel remembered correctly from when he’d seen Sass emerge from it.
“Try to talk loud or give me some kind of sign,” he told the dwarf. “Then Crumpet can fly up and find you easier.”
Thrain grunted. “I can do that.” A grin split his whiskers. “I might even manage a bit of wailing.”
“Don’t overdo it,” Vaskel warned, even though his lips twitched. “Marina might see through fake heartbreak.”
“Who’s faking? That woman broke my heart clean in two.”
Vaskel rested a hand on the dwarf’s shoulders. “I want you to know how much I appreciate you doing this for me. I know it isn’t easy, and I’m sorry you got sucked into it.”
“You’re not to blame for my foolishness, and you don’t need to thank me. You’d do the same for me.”
Vaskel squeezed Thrain’s shoulder. He was right.
He would risk himself for the dwarf or any of his friends in Wayside.
He’d come to the village knowing only Lira and Cali, but since then he’d added so many to his chosen family.
Some days it was hard to think back to times when he’d been alone and believed there was no place in the Known Lands he would ever think of as a true home.
“Very good,” Erindil said, “but that leaves me without a way to lend aid if needed.”
Thrain readjusted his grip on the paper bakery bag. “I didn’t say you couldn’t come in. I just said I should go in alone.”
The elf’s eyes widened. “I see. I can enter the castle grounds after you and for an entirely different purpose.” He rapped a finger on his chin.
“What that is, I’m not entirely sure, but I’ll come up with something.
” His pensive expression dissolved into a smile.
“It’s been quite a while since I’ve stormed a castle, but this should be good fun. ”
Thrain’s brows climbed higher. “Not sure if I’d call this storming the castle, but I’m glad to know you’ll be near.”
“Good luck all,” Vaskel said with a last look and nod.
“Aye.” Thrain wagged a stubby finger at the hellkin. “Save your kiss for Iris, though.”
Vaskel shot him another look before backing away and peeling off before the guards at the castle gate spotted him. Crumpet shifted his stance on his shoulder, chittering gently as they left the path.
The brush was thick around the castle walls, more evidence that the place was slipping. He lifted his knees high, stepping through the tangle of frozen vines and trying to avoid the icy puddles of sludge pooling around the stone walls.
Tipping back his head, he peered up the towering stone bathed in moonlight. Sharp icicles hung from the top of the castle like bared teeth, and he muttered a prayer to the infernal gods to not be gored by a falling one.
When Vaskel had walked along the western wall to the window he estimated to be Marina’s, he stopped. “That should be it. It’s one of the few with a lantern lit inside. That’s a good sign, right?”
Crumpet chattered an answer that he hoped was agreement.
“It shouldn’t be long now,” he said in a voice loud enough for the flutterstoat on his shoulder. “Then we can go back to the tavern and life can go back to normal.”
But things couldn’t go back to normal for him and Iris. Not after that kiss.
He released a visible breath. “I suppose I’ll have to tell Iris how I feel.”
Crumpet’s chattering about this was more pointed, and unless the hellkin was imagining things, a bit judgmental.
“Yes, I suppose I should have told her sooner.” He flicked a gaze toward the flutterstoat without turning his head. “But I was afraid of ruining our friendship.”
Crumpet blew a raspberry.
“Fine,” Vaskel growled. “I was afraid she wouldn’t return my feelings. I was afraid she wouldn’t want to get involved with a hellkin. We don’t have the best reputation for sticking around, you know.”
The flutterstoat emitted a sigh that made Vaskel wince.
“I’ll admit, it wasn’t my bravest moment, but I’d rather battle a mountain troll than risk losing Iris. There’s something about her that makes me feel at home, and the way she looks at me makes me feel seen—and not just for my devastating good looks.”
Crumpet’s groan made Vaskel laugh. Then the flutterstoat chattered something scolding and smacked the side of his head with one of his paws.
“I take your point, and I promise to talk to her once all this is over.”
He reached a hand into the pocket of his cloak and felt for the cookie, a comfortable reminder that if everything went according to plan, this would all be over soon.
Taking steady breaths that puffed from his mouth in clouds, he waited for Thrain’s sign. That is, until a moan wafted up from below that made the hairs on the nape of his neck stand on end, and Crumpet wrapped his furry arms around Vaskel’s head.