19. Fenric
It was a relief to get back to Bjornkill.
They’d camped a good distance from the finfolk-summoned fog and then set out the next morning.
There had been no point in doing more inspection once they’d decided to find someone who might have the magic required to deal with this kind of problem.
As it was, Hapi, Belstrom, and Malfas were at the limit of their knowledge.
But how the hell was Fenric supposed to find Lirion in a town as large as Bjornkill?
Lirion, of course, was one just traveling through.
Fenric didn’t know where he’d even choose to stay, honestly.
Assuming he had money for his own room. As an incubus, he could hook up with different people in order to feed and grab some shuteye, which would make him damn impossible to track down if it wasn’t for his distinctive cotton candy pink hair.
Fenric wasted no time as soon as they arrived back in town, splitting from the others and heading to The Drunken Bard first, the pub he’d met Lirion in a few days prior.
He’d not met an incubus—or succubus—before, so he wasn’t sure if vibrant hair was normal.
Did everyone of that species have bright pink hair?
Was it just a trait of Lirion’s? He’d said his hair came from his mother, though.
Come to think of it, why did Fenric remember their conversation in the jail so clearly? Normally, he wouldn’t retain such information about someone. Well, remembering how badly the night was bungled, he still cringed, so maybe that was why.
Sadly, it was a different barkeep at The Drunken Bard, and he had no memory of Lirion, so Fenric moved on. He hit several pubs, an information broker, and tried a few inns at the waterfront. No dice at any of them.
He stopped for a late lunch, scarfing down some fried fish and chips with a light ale before he continued on with his search.
Having a full belly improved his mood marginally, but this was still pretty frustrating, and it wasn’t just because he needed Lirion’s help.
He found himself actually looking forward to seeing the man again.
While his temper could be sharp, he had a good sense of humor and a fun, flirty nature when he wasn’t pissed.
But how was Fenric supposed to find him?
Fenric’s information about Lirion was pretty damn limited.
He knew the guy was handy at tying people up, gave an excellent blow job, and was searching for information about someone named Aria.
If only they had a common friend, or he knew the man better, he could guess where Lirion would go.
Right now, though, it was anyone’s guess.
Determined to find him before the day was up, Fenric hit the market next, asking various vendors if they’d seen him as he steadily worked his way through the bustling crowds of people out getting the day’s shopping completed.
The first market didn’t pan out, so he shifted his focus farther down, closer to the red-light district, and tried their open market.
Just as he was getting tired of walking and being jostled by the masses, he hit on a bit of good luck.
“Oh, the lovely man with soft pink hair?” The old grandmother selling bottles gave Fenric a toothy grin. “He’s a fine one. If I were twenty years younger, I’d chase him myself.”
“Nonsense, grandmother, you have the looks to chase him now if you’d like.”
She cackled. “A smooth one, you are. Just like him.”
Fenric did try. A bit of flattery went a long way when asking questions. “I need his help, frankly. I need a bard.”
“Oh, well, he’s a very fine one. He’s performed out here a few times where the water fountain used to be. Just busking, he said—damn shame that buffoon smashed such a pretty fountain all to bits. Yesterday he stopped by to thank me again for a bottle he’d bought, said he’d need it for the journey.”
Journey, eh? Well, that was interesting and something Fenric needed to ask about. “Do you know where I can find him?”
She looked doubtfully toward the square where the fountain had been. “Past few days, he’s played right there. But I’ve not seen him all morning. He may have earned enough coin to buy passage.”
“Ship’s passage?”
“I’m not sure. He didn’t say much, just mentioned he had to get somewhere urgently. I don’t know which route he’d take.”
Dammit, that wasn’t helpful. Had he already left, then?
“I saw him coming from the direction of the waterfront most days,” she tacked on, pointing. “Maybe one of the inns there can tell you.”
“I appreciate it. I’ll try there next. Truly, you’re the first person to even give me a direction.
Let me buy a bottle.” He’d spent a good amount of time picking pockets between asking people questions and had gotten himself a tidy sum—enough to pay back his companions and hold him over for a few days.
He could afford to buy one of the grandmother’s bottles.
His eyes skimmed over the wide array of bottles lining the shelves of her cart.
There were all shapes, sizes, and materials.
Most were pottery, but there were a good number of leather pouches, gourds, and even some lovely bamboo ones with leather straps.
Each one had a pleasant design carved into or painted on the sides.
“Oh, well, I won’t turn that down.”
Fenric chose the biggest bottle she had, then on second thought, picked out another one. Maxie didn’t have a bottle of his own right now and no one had realized the lack until they’d traveled to Lord Mire’s. The bottle would be a good investment for his new friend.
She gave him a cord to tie them to his belt, which he thanked her for, then he headed in the direction she had pointed him to.
Fenric had some pep in his step as he walked, hoping Lirion was still there and he wouldn’t be forced to chase after the man.
It wasn’t that Fenric had his heart set on him in particular, but he’d prefer to work with someone he already knew, and he suspected Lirion was a gifted bard.
The way he could just waltz out of a jail cell spoke to his skill level.
The day was threatening rain. He could feel the storm clouds gathering, a common thing when on the coastline.
Storms swept through regularly and disappeared just as quickly.
Still, he didn’t like the feel of this one; the humidity was thick and cloying, making his clothes stick to his skin in a tacky way, and the storm promised to rain buckets once it arrived.
Better find Lirion before that broke out. Otherwise, Fenric would call off the hunt for the day and try again tomorrow.
He spotted a decent-looking inn sitting right on the waterfront, with only a street and wooden docks to separate it from the water.
Ironically enough, it wasn’t all that far from the place he and his friends were renting.
A man sat on the porch, peg leg stretched out on one chair, a collection of tankards on a small round table next to him.
Day drinking, eh? Well, Fenric wasn’t one to judge.
He paused next to the man with the scraggly brown beard and matching hair as wild as if no brush had ever attempted to tame it. “Hello, sir.”
The man blinked into his cup, then lifted his head. About six beers delayed his reactions before he cottoned on to Fenric addressing him. “Hello yourself.”
“I’ll buy you a round if you can answer a question.”
“My favorite game,” the man declared with a gap-toothed smile. He tried to sit up but only ended up swaying back to where he had been.
“A man with a beautiful face and light pink hair, bard by the name of Lirion? Do you know where he is?”
“Surely do. He’s inside. Gave us a performance last night.”
A relieved thrill swept through Fenric. Fucking finally. He pulled out enough coins to buy two rounds and dropped them into the man’s hands. “You, sir, are a godsend. Thank you.”
He accepted the coins, but his eyes were sharp despite him seeming so intoxicated. “My bard friend inside isn’t in trouble, I hope.”
“No. I’m in trouble, and I need his help.”
“Ah, well, then good luck to you.”
“Thanks.” Fenric stepped past him and inside, intent on finding Lirion before the man could disappear again.
Although he hoped and prayed Lirion’s emergency, whatever it was, could be used as a bargaining chip. Fenric didn’t want to stop the man from whatever it was he needed to do, he was just desperate to have Lirion’s magical help.
The inside of the inn was well lit from the many windows out front, and there in the center of the room sat Lirion.
At this time of day—late afternoon—the lunch rush was over and the dinner rush hadn’t started yet.
Lirion was mostly alone, seated at one of the round tables, with a map of the kingdom spread out in front of him.
It was strange. The inn was a dingy, grimy place, and Lirion was a glittering gem shining among the rubbish.
Something squeezed in Fenric’s chest at the sight of him, and he wasn’t entirely sure it was relief.
Maybe an echo of the memory of their time in the alley.
Yeah, that was all. The bard with the perfect mouth probably just made him horny.
A skinny man with a hooked nose and a greasy look to him kept sidling up to the table.
“Leave me alone,” Lirion snapped as the man drew in a breath to likely make a pass at him.
The man glared in response, lifted his nose as if he were above all of this anyway, and stomped off.
“Will you make me strip down and run into a fountain if I talk to you?” Fenric greeted as he came to a stop.
Lirion blinked up at him. “What are you doing here? Wait! You knew that was me?”
Fenric shrugged. “It was a guess considering how I found you with Lance and what I know about you.”
“Ah.” Lirion cleared his throat and looked away, but the soft smile on his lips grew when Fenric continued.
“I’ve been looking for you. What are you working on?”
“My next mistake. It should be epic.”
So much sass in this one. Fenric pulled a chair out and joined him, sitting back comfortably. Honestly, his feet appreciated the sitting, since he’d been on them all afternoon.
Lirion sat up more as well, eyes narrowed on Fenric. “Why look for me?”
“I need your help on a job,” Fenric admitted frankly. “I need bard magic, specifically, and you’re one of the most skilled bards I know.”
Those pretty eyes gave a slow blink as Lirion took this in. “Oh, Sexy Eyes, you do say the sweetest things,” Lirion said with his usual purr while falling back into his flirty nature. “Details?”
Not quite the reaction Fenric had expected. He’d expected to be dismissed outright, like the last guy had been, or for Lirion to explain he was too busy. Why this reaction?
He’d best ask. “Bottle grandma said you have an emergency on your hands. Do you even have the time to help me?”
“I thought I recognized her handiwork.” Lirion jerked his chin to indicate the bottles still hanging on his side. “I don’t know how to answer you. Yes, I’m very pressed for time, but we might be able to help each other. So, details?”
Well, here goes. Fenric could only hope that if Lirion couldn’t help him, he’d be able to recommend another bard who could.
“Have you heard of the Lord Mire situation?”
“The…what?”
“Finfolk have invaded the territory of Lord Mire. They’ve flooded the entire area, including all the farmland. They’ve also put up an unnatural fog as a barrier around the area.”
Lirion threw up a hand. “Why unnatural? What makes you so sure?”
“For one thing, it never wanes. It’s very thick throughout the day and night without shifting. For another, I couldn’t get through it. I’d walk for maybe a minute and it would physically lift me and throw me outside, exactly to my starting point.”
Lirion whistled softly. “That’s a sure sign, all right.”
Seeing he was genuinely interested, Fenric put an elbow on the table and leaned in. “I need bardic skills. Only your dispel magic spell can get us through.”
“I don’t know if dispel magic is the right one to use,” Lirion argued, but he looked thoughtful.
“That said, I’ve come across magical fog before and have found ways through it.
You should also know it takes either very powerful sorcerers to do that level of magic across a vast area or there’s a large group of finfolk who can set and maintain such magic.
You’re looking at a lot of trouble. Even if you get through the fog, you will definitely be outnumbered once you’re through it. Sure you want to take this job?”
“It’s personal,” Fenric admitted, somewhat grudgingly. “There’s something Lord Mire has that I must retrieve. One way or another, I’m going in. I don’t intend to force you to fight alongside me, though. Just get me through the fog.”
Lirion stared at him for another long moment. “You’re probably thinking I’ll ask for some hefty fee for this.”
“You’d be insane not to.” Fenric was steeled to pay it, whatever it was. For this, he’d pay any price he was able.
“But it’s not money I need.” Lirion locked eyes with him, and the same desperation he’d caught a glimpse of in the brothel shone through. “Help me. Help me get to my sister, and then I’ll help you.”