Chapter 12 Archer
Archer
The stars are bright overhead tonight. Halvard and Rychell seemed to want a night alone because Nate was staying with a friend from school, so I’m off to the tavern.
The wind rises and the cold scent of snow fills the air.
There’s already some on the ground; enough that I am walking slowly down the cleared paths the town witch, Tully, cleared earlier.
I caught a glimpse of her waving her wand about the square when I left Two Cats.
I hope the tavern isn’t pure madness tonight. Halvard told me they have an amazing Snowlight mead and I am looking forward to trying it.
I swing the door of the Goat and Dragon open, and the scent of rich gravy and sweet honey reaches my nose.
Almost every table is taken, but the conversation is subdued so it’s not too bad.
Two musicians play lutes at the far end of the room, the tune easy-going and not overly loud.
Several heads turn my way and the whispering begins.
I ignore it, hoping everyone will leave me alone as per the mayor’s command.
“Welcome, Master Archer,” a silver-haired male says to me at the bar top. The fellow has muscles for days like he built this place with his own two hands. Makes me want to do some push-ups. “I’m Grumlin, the owner,” he says, “and I’d love to serve you. I’m a fan of your books.”
Ah, this must be the wizard who doesn’t practice magic anymore. Halvard told me about him too.
“So you’re one of the few, eh?” I say, grinning and settling onto a stool. I remove my cloak and hang it on a small hook under the lip of the bar top.
“Am I?” Grumlin’s eyebrows lift as he chuckles. His eyes give the impression of wisdom and age even though he only looks about thirty-five. Wizards age like us vampires, so that makes sense.
“I’m hoping my fan club will grow when I finish up this project with Mistress Colette.”
“I heard about the short story. You’re reading from it at the Snowlight festival, right?”
“Aye,” I say, unable to keep the sour tone from my voice. “I hope we can satisfy the crowd.”
“You don’t seem like the type to give a shite about the crowd,” he says.
“Very intuitive, aren’t you?”
He shrugs and wipes down a blue crockery mug. “It’s a wizard’s talent.”
“Can you read minds?”
“No, no. Nothing like that. Just your aura giving off a few impressions. Now, what can I get you? It’s all on the house from your one true fan,” he says, grinning.
I laugh. “Thanks. I’ll take a healthy serving of your Snowlight mead, some of the Leafshire cheddar everyone goes on about, and a hunk of bread if you have it.”
“We have that and more. No meat pie?”
“Not tonight. I guess you know more about vampires than most.”
“I do. I had a close friend who was a full vampire. He died about one hundred years ago.”
Stones, how old is this wizard? “Can you sense that I’m not a full vampire?”
“I can. Goblin blood, perhaps?”
“That’s it.” An image of my brothers flashes through my mind, and my heart pinches. We were never close, but I miss them anyway. Even though we live in the same small town, we really never interact. I know that’s on purpose, and it hurts, but I guess it’s better that way. No fuss.
The wizard pours out the mead and slides it to me. The golden liquid is cool and sweet.
“Absolutely delicious.”
“Glad you like it. I’ll be right back with your food.”
He cleans his hands on a white linen towel, then walks toward the back of the tavern. I take another swig of my mead.
“Will you come to the reading?” a voice as sweet as the mead carries across the quiet rumble of the crowd’s conversations, the clang of utensils, and the occasional belly laugh.
I turn on my stool to see Colette cozied up at a table near the hearth with Tully and Kaya.
Just the sight of her has my heart rate increasing.
She licks her lips and whispers something to her new friends.
She has a glistening drop of mead on her top lip, and my fingers ache to tangle themselves in her locks and lick her mouth clean.
I can imagine how she would feel pressed against me, her soft breath in my ear.
“So the rumors are true?” Grumlin says.
I startle and face him. I finish my mead and set it down a little too roughly on the bar top.
“What rumors?” I ask, knowing it’s a stupid thing to say.
“The kiss. The romance between you two.”
I press my eyes shut for a moment. “No, not true.”
Grumlin snorts. “All right. Whatever you say, Master Archer.”
“Please call me Archer.”
“Can I also call you a liar?” the wizard says quietly as he wipes down the counter.
“Excuse me?”
“Eh, take it easy, vampire. I just mean that your attraction to her is painfully obvious. You look like you want to drink her down like a fine wine.”
“I do not drink from humans. Ever.”
“Don’t get your feathers ruffled. I didn’t mean Feasting or Tasting. I only mean you want her. Physically.”
“Fine. She is attractive. Very. But nothing is going on between us and it never will be.”
Grumlin takes a tray from one of his serving lads and sets the bread and cheese I ordered in front of me. The bread smells divine.
The wizard leans forward on his elbows and sets his sharp eyes on mine. “Life is long for our kinds. If you don’t take pleasure where you find it, you’ll regret it. She might be the one for you and you won’t know unless you risk the fuss.”
Can he read my mind? I just thought that same word.
“Fuss is one way to put it,” I say.
“What else could be the problem? The worst that can happen is if she rejects you.”
“That isn’t the worst. And I’ll thank you to mind your business, Master Grumlin.”
“Ach, call me by my name. I’ve been too pushy, so we’re friends now despite how annoyed you are by me at the moment.”
I huff a laugh. “Fine then, Grumlin. Now back right out of my love life, please.”
He bows his head. “Apologies. Will do.”
The wizard isn’t a bad fellow. A normal person would likely take his encouragement with no resistance. But vampires aren’t normal. Not even half ones. Especially half ones.