Chapter Twenty-Two #2
Behind the bar were rows of liquor in different sized bottles with various seemingly random glass ornaments nestled between the bottles. Eleanor recognised some decorations as seeing orbs, so the bartenders always had at least one eye on the surrounding pub.
Trix was pouring an ale before Eleanor needed to say anything. “Haven’t seen you in here recently, love,” Trix said gently in her low voice. “Everything all right?”
One could deem Trix overdressed for working behind the bar in this pub, but Trix always took pride in her appearance.
Purple shadow lined Trix’s lids, the long sharp brush strokes complimenting her enviously long lashes and high ebony cheekbones.
Eleanor knew Trix wore wigs, considering how dramatically Trix’s hair changed from each of Eleanor’s visits to the pub.
Last time Trix’s hair had been blonde and cropped to her chin, today Trix had raven long wavy hair.
The top section had been weaved into an intricate-looking braid that was decorated with silver ribbons and clasps to complement her outfit of a purple corset with silver ribbons and a matching skirt.
Trix didn’t care that exposed corsets weren’t in fashion anymore, but looked like she could give the marquis a run for his ever-fashionable purse.
Eleanor lifted a shoulder. “I didn’t see a reason to come unless there’s work for me.”
Trix tossed her wavy hair over her shoulders, revealing her mismatched pearl drop earrings, but on Trix, the earrings looked like a pair that belonged together.
“You didn’t want to come just to see me and Burt?
We’re a bunch of fun if you stuck around long enough to find out.
” Trix pushed out her perfectly lined, full lips into a pretend pout.
Any newcomers at the Three Bells usually overlooked Trix and Burt. They might be the bartenders, but they were Valen’s eyes and ears.
“All work and no play make for a sad life,” Trix continued in a softer voice that Eleanor didn’t like. No one could possibly care for her.
A ruddy-faced man barrelled into the bar, interrupting them, and slapped down a coin and sneered at Eleanor. “Who’d you think you’re fooling? Coming in here like that. Trousers don’t make you a man.”
The pub went deathly silent. Eleanor’s hand was already loose over her thigh, but now her fingers twitched.
Trix stopped pulling the pint, and her hands disappeared beneath the bar. “Now I know you didn’t just say what you said,” Trix said to the man, whose face showed revulsion as he continued to stare at Eleanor.
“You heard me,” the arsehole continued, but this time he looked at Trix. “And a dress don’t make you a woman.”
Chairs scraped across the floor, making Eleanor smirk, but she’d drawn her Attarician dagger before anyone else could get close.
Eleanor kicked at the soft spot behind his legs, so he dropped to his knees.
Unfortunately, his head narrowly missed the bar, or perhaps that was fortunate, considering how Valen liked his tidy pub.
The piece of shit held his hands up, as if that would save him. “Valen’s rule. No fighting in here.”
Eleanor grabbed the man’s greasy hair from its tie. He was trying to emulate the current fashion but had some type of labourer job, which meant he had to tie his hair back.
“Who says I'm fighting? All I see is a dead man,” she seethed in his ear, holding her blade to his throat.
Trix raised an unamused look that spoke of the many times she'd experienced this type of spiteful ignorance. “There'd had been a time you'd have never dared say such nasty words to women.”
“Witches are gone,” he gritted out from the floor.
“That’s what you think,” Trix muttered low enough that Eleanor wasn’t sure if she was supposed to have heard.
As Eleanor was considering how much trouble she’d get in with Valen if she slit the fool’s throat, Burt jumped and slid over the bar to join her.
“I'll take the piece of shit from here,” Burt said with a glint in his eye that pulled at the scar under his patch. The vicious look was the only reason she handed him over.
An amused patron raised his voice as Burt dragged the man through the pub. “Be glad it’s Burt and not the shadow-beast.”
The back door’s slam signalled the end of the ignorant cretin.
“See, I have fun all the time,” Eleanor said.
Trix let out a throaty laugh and slid the foaming mug over the polished bar top. People slid their chairs back across the wooden floor, allowing conversations to seamlessly resume as if their clandestine meetings hadn’t been interrupted. “Did you hear what happened at the Cloth the other day?”
Eleanor’s throat went dry, but Trix ploughed on, not waiting for an answer from her. “Rumour is they’re back. Witches, ” Trix said, dropping her low voice even lower. “Calling themselves the Night Hags. They made a right mess of the Cloth, they did. I even heard a few died.”
Eleanor had tried to forget what she’d seen and felt at the Cloth.
She’d focused on her unsuccessful hunt for any other pieces of jewellery that were like the necklace.
But just because she had found nothing with that symbol at the market didn’t mean someone else wasn’t making them.
With this information, questions she couldn’t silence and dreaded swarmed to her.
Were any caught? Will the pyres be lit again?
But it wasn’t enough for her to hope. There was never any.
Burt flipped up part of the bar to return to his position. His hands were as clean as the rag thrown over his shoulder.
His silent return prompted Trix to say, “All we need is for witches to come back and snuff out ignorance like that shithead for once and for all.”
To avoid making a comment, Eleanor took a sip of the foamy ale, knowing witches wouldn’t change things like Trix thought they would.
Trix picked up a jug that didn’t need a clean as she continued in a hushed tone. “He hasn’t been down for a few nights.”
Eleanor appreciated the heads up. Trix wasn’t one to spread rumours, she’d told Eleanor in quiet confidence, knowing how the gang boss felt about her.
Eleanor slid a half-sterling across the polished bar. “Thanks, Trix.”
“Who let that bastard in?” grumbled a man with a mean-looking scar, who’d joined the bar since the arsehole had been dealt with.
Eleanor left Trix to serve him and took her drink to a dark corner.