Waltz of the Goblins E-Book

Melissa Matos

• Herausgeber: WS
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Serie: Warden's Cadence
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 329

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2021

Beschreibung

Glade returns from a harrowing trip to the Wild, to find her brother a mess, and her old friends troubled. In exchange for helping her brother find his lost love, she agrees to working a heist of the mythic Goblin City. But the only person who knows how to find it is a blast from Glade's questionable past. 

Leseprobe

Waltz of the Goblins

Melissa Matos

Momtoast Publishing

Waltz of the Goblins

Copyright © 2021 by Melissa Matos

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

This is a work of fiction. Any characters, names, places, or likenesses are purely fictional. Resemblances to any of the items listed above are merely coincidental.

For permission requests, please contact Melissa Matos at [email protected]

ISBN

Paperback: 978-1-7364970-2-9

eBook: 978-1-7364970-3-6

Cover Design by Melissa Matos

Edited by Sarah “Sare” LaChance 

melissamatosauthor.com

To my mom and grandmom,

who put up with a moody, geeky writer

trying to get through another book.

Chapter One

I came to my senses on the border between civilization and the Wild. My stomach ached. Well, everything ached, and I smelled of mud and fouler things. I had enough of my wits to crawl behind a tree, out of sight of the path beyond the edge of the forest and listen for the next Warden patrol to pass. The only sound around me was the forest, sleepy in the heat of a summer afternoon. I waited over an hour, hoping they wouldn’t be long, knowing I would doze off again. Finally, three Wardens strolled by, heading west. Another patrol should pass in two hours. That gave me plenty of time to find the pack I had buried and make myself presentable.

Two weeks ago, I had buried my things under an old oak surrounded by skinny trees, and then gave myself over to the Wild. It took almost an hour to find the spot again. I usually woke close to where I had entered, but never in the exact spot.I rested again before digging it up. It was my usual Midsummer survival pack: a clean set of clothes, some food, and my illusion powders. I devoured nuts and cheese while I wandered to a stream that gurgled nearby. As I washed up, a few nymphs floated past, drifting lazily in the current, their hair splayed out like sea grass. At any other time I would have feared they would start a game at my expense, but after Midsummer every Wild thing was as worn out as I was, and not in the mood for tricks. Not even with a half-blood Changeling like me. Once I felt less disgusting, I changed clothes and got to work on my illusion.

If had emerged from the forest as my real self, with glowing amber skin and glimmering green eyes, the Wardens would kill me on sight. It was their job to make sure the Wild stayed in the Wild. But I couldn’t don my usual face either—the one everyone knew as Glade Balladeer. She was rumored to be visiting her frail old mother back in Guowtan. Instead, I recreated the look I had worn just before losing myself in the woods. My hair grew long and blond, my skin lightened to a creamy shade of pink, and freckles dotted across my nose for good measure. I kept the dirty, worn look. If the Wardens out on patrol today couldn’t take pity on that face, then they didn’t have hearts.

The next patrol came by shortly. This one included someone in a good enough mood to be singing. They were following the footpath just outside the woods. It was not an official road, but something worn into the grass from years of Wardens keeping guard. So far, the Wild had kept its side of the bargain and not grown out over the border, so although there was no fence or wall, there was an distinct end to the forest all around Drakir.

I waited until they came into view and then threw myself out of the forest, shouting at the top of my voice, and half-stumbled, half-ran in their direction. I didn’t have to put much effort into falling faint in their path.

“What’s that?”

“Is she all right?”

“Careful!”

As the four of them gathered around me, their voices muddled together.

One grumbling voice rose above the others. “I said careful, she’s probably some Wild thing!”

“She’s not Wild,” another argued. “Look, she’s got a Warden’s badge.”

That was another wise touch on my part, making sure my Warden badge was prominent on my belt. That was no illusion either; I was an official Warden, licensed and registered, just like them. A woman crouched beside me, lifted my head and started checking me over for wounds. I blinked my eyes open and gasped, and she smiled down at me.

“It’s all right, you’re out now. What’s your name?”

“Amalia,” I answered. I had always liked that name. I struggled to sit up, but she held me firm. “I have to get away.”

“You’re safe now, just rest. Stop scowling, Ricard, and give us a potion. She must be the Warden that went missing from the South Tower two weeks ago.”

Ricard, a dark-haired human with a sour expression, came into view over the woman’s shoulder and handed her a small glass vial.

“Seems like she should be a mite worse off for being in the Wild a full two weeks,” he said.

She huffed. “She’s bad off enough.” The woman pressed the bottle to my lips and made me drink. She didn’t let me sit up until she had checked me over again. “Shaky and wobbly all over. You haven’t eaten in a good bit, have you?”

“I couldn’t very well eat while I was in there,” I said, glad I had thought to rinse my mouth after munching my cheese. She helped me to my feet, and I got a look at the others, two red-haired dwarves who looked enough alike that I guessed they were siblings.

“Good girl,” the woman answered. “Well, I’m Danny, and these two are Riln and Rian. And you’ve met Ricard. We’ll get you back to the South Tower and fix you right up.”

“Thank you, thank you so much.”

The journey to the South Tower wasn’t a long one, but I was weak from my time in the Wild and slowed the group considerably. I kept tripping over my own feet and falling behind. Danny would stop the group, and Ricard would complain that we would miss supper if we didn’t keep moving.

Rian eventually began singing again. She had a strong, deep voice. I knew little about dwarvish music. It always sounded jarring and unresolved to me, but her singing made it sound hearty. At least it drowned out Ricard’s complaining.

We arrived at the South Tower just as dusk fell. Warden towers were simple structures, tall and round with thin slits for windows. Wide panes of glass encased the top level, protecting an enormous pile of wood, so if a signal were lit, the neighboring towers would see and send help. Several floors inside housed supplies and sleeping quarters for the Wardens.

We were welcomed in, and space was cleared for us at one of the long tables on the first floor. The supper bowls were refilled, and we began passing them around and spooning large helpings onto the plates set out for us.

“You made it back, and without a mark on you,” an older elf said, stopping by our table. I had stayed at the tower a few days before disappearing into the Wild, and this was one of the Wardens I had made a point of talking to. It was one of many steps I took to ensure no one discovered why I really disappeared every year. I couldn’t remember his name, only that he was an elf and a fighter, with a notable scar on his chin.

“Yes, thank the Flames,” I said.

“So what lured you in? You didn’t go chasing a satyr, did you?” He nudged Ricard, who grunted and rolled his eyes.

“Of course not.” I made a face and the others laughed. “I’m not that new.”

“Get dazzled by the lights then?” Riln asked around a mouthful of food.

“No.” I lowered my face and made myself blush. “It was flowers.” They laughed at me again and I shrugged. “Poppies, I think. They were so beautiful, and I remembered if you can get the Wild ones, they are good for so many things. I thought I could just grab a few and get out.”

That sobered them some. It would not be the first time a new Warden was lured into the Wild, but few of those stories ended as well as mine.

“As soon as I stepped in among the poppies, I fell asleep,” I continued. “When I woke I was in a different part of the forest and had to find my way back.”

“Just be thankful it was Midsummer and all the Wild creatures were somewhere else,” Danny said, patting my shoulder. “Now eat up. Once you get a good night’s sleep, you’ll feel worlds better.”

#

It felt so good to spend a night in a bed, with a fire in the room and walls surrounding me, even if I had to suffer through the nightmares. Faint memories of whatever I had been doing in the last two weeks always haunted me just after Midsummer. I was glad I never fully remembered what it was. The weariness and the filth afterward were enough.

I woke in the morning feeling well-rested and refreshed. I emerged from the stairs into the main foyer, which was crowded with Wardens exchanging reports with the night shift just coming in from patrol. Still hungry as a new kitten, I pushed through them to the dining hall. Breakfast was busy. Long tables laden with food and pitchers, and rough wooden chairs laden with Wardens filled the hall. I found an out-of-the-way table so I could gulp down some eggs without interfering with their business. They all assumed I had survived an ordeal in the Wild, so they considered me off duty, ready to head home as soon as I was strong enough to travel.

While I watched them bustle around, I felt a familiar humming, something that buzzed like fat and lazy summer flies. I hadn't felt it in a while, but I could think of only one reason it would show up now.

I hoped to make it outside before they found me, but as I stood up, I saw a brown-skinned human with an array of wands strung at his belt, and a short, round woman, her fair hair wound up in ornate braids. They hovered in the doorway searching the faces of the Wardens gathered for breakfast. They glanced right over me. I didn’t look like myself, like the Glade they knew. I waved to get their attention, and they wove through the crowd to my table.

“Glade?” Otsoa asked when they reached me. Josie peered at me, a deep frown on her face. She was my best friend, and knew me better than anyone, but even she couldn’t tell it was me beneath my disguise.

“It’s Amalia for now,” I said. “Had you fooled, didn’t I?”

Otsoa didn’t return my plucky grin. “All right, Amalia. We’ve come to take you home.”

“Otsoa, is that you?” Ricard swung by our table on his way to meet his party. He seemed much more cheerful this morning. Maybe he had been missing some sleep as well. “Haven’t seen you in a while. You were the only Warden that was at the towers more than Danny and me. And who’s this?”

“Hello, Ricard, this is Josie. Sweetheart, this is Ricard. He’s a bit gruff, but a good fighter to have in a scrap.”

Josie smiled shyly up at Ricard. I wondered if Otsoa had introduced her as sweetheart before.

“Pleased to meet you,” Ricard said.

“Lovely reason to be home more,” Danny commented. She had come up behind Ricard and nudged him. “When do we get to settle down?”

“When you stop your heart from bleeding for every wounded traveler we find out there.” Ricard shook his head. “Woman keeps me traipsing around Drakir like we’re the flaming healer brigade. I’d like a few quiet months, yah know?”

“Sure, and after two weeks you’d be so antsy for a fight, you’d be starting brawls at the bar. Come on, let’s get some breakfast before we’re due out again.” Danny dragged Ricard toward the buffet.

“You haven’t been avoiding tower duty, have you?” I asked Otsoa.

“No, just haven’t been going out as much. I was practically living in the towers before,” he admitted. “Most towns didn’t want to admit a non-licensed wizard.”

“But you’re licensed now,” Josie said, slipping her arm under his.

“Yes, and you have that nice comfy inn. You ever sleep in a tower bed?” They chuckled together, and I turned my face down to my meal. Part of me was so happy for Josie; she deserved this. Part of me dreaded being the third wheel all the way back to Casavera, where Josie’s inn was, and where Otsoa was now staying. It was only a few hours north from there to Cyfar, the city I considered home.

“So what happened?” Otsoa asked me, his voice growing serious.

I cringed. “Can we talk about it on the way back?” I looked around at the Wardens to see if any had overheard.

“Right.” Otsoa’s voice was clipped. Josie sighed and took a seat across from me at the table.

A few other Wardens stopped by to see how I was doing. I drank three more cups of coffee and had two heaping plates of food before I felt well enough to head out. As good as the night’s sleep had been, I couldn’t completely relax. That would mean losing the illusion I was wearing. It always took a little more concentration than usual to keep it going when it wasn’t my natural face. I just needed to get home and back to my old self.

I walked out with Otsoa and Josie and found a large, ornate coach waiting for us by the doors. Josie’s family crest was painted on the side: three white balls floating over a simplified picture of an erupting volcano. Four shining black horses in white harnesses were pulling the massive thing. The driver was in full livery, and it smelled like new leather inside.

“Why haven’t we always traveled like this?” I asked.

Josie rolled her eyes and looked away. “My family gave me charge of a second inn, so I have access to this so I can keep tabs on it. You’re just lucky no one else needed it today.” I wasn’t sure if she was upset with me or with her family.

“That’s great, Josie. Sounds like you’re doing really well. Must keep you pretty busy though.”

“What happened, Glade? Where have you been?” Otsoa asked, his voice like a bucket of ice water down my back. I looked from him and back to Josie, who wouldn’t meet my eyes, then looked down at the floor.

“I don’t remember.”

Otsoa groaned and sat back, exasperated.

Josie crossed her arms and turned to stare at me. “You don’t have to keep things from us anymore. Just tell us what happened.”

I tried to hide how much her words stung. It wasn’t as though she was the only person I had kept my true nature from. I hadn’t told anyone. Then I had lost control at her inn, and they had both found out.

“I’m not keeping things from you,” I mumbled. “I really don’t remember. I never remember.” I blinked my eyes tightly a few times to be sure they wouldn’t look misty when I looked up again. “I thought I explained this to you guys.”

“You were gone for two weeks,” Josie said. She pushed forward on the seat so she was looking up into my face. “Two weeks. Without a word. And Otsoa—”

Otsoa put his hand on her arm and she stopped.

“What’s wrong? What happened to you?” I asked.

Otsoa took a deep breath and shrugged. “I felt it. All of it. And it made things . . . difficult.” He pointed to the necklace he was wearing. It looked out of place with his otherwise rough clothing, a delicate silver necklace pendant shaped like a sword. A rose formed from a garnet hung from the tip. “I think we need to figure out exactly what this does.”

“Did anyone get hurt?” I asked quietly. They shook their heads. That was something, at least. “It made you want to change?” I swallowed hard. Being born Wild as I was had many downsides. Getting a good job was impossible, and most people considered me bad luck to have around, but Otsoa had learned Wild human magic. He could turn into a jaguar, or rather, turn into a jaguar if he became too agitated. If they caught him using this magic again, he’d have more than his license revoked.

“I did change, twice,” he said. “Both times at night, thankfully. Josie managed to keep me hidden.”

“I'm sorry. I didn't know.” It was a weak excuse, but it was all I could think to say. The necklace connected us. I could feel when he was near, and if he was trying to change into a jaguar, it would make me incredibly queasy. It was easy for him to change, but not so easy to come back. Somehow this necklace, gifted to us by a very strong Wild One, let me help him return to human form. I hadn’t known it would work the other way and drag him into being a jaguar if I was Wild.

“We weren’t prepared for it,” Josie said. “Is this going to happen again?”

“Every Midsummer,” I said. “Every time. If the Queen calls, I have to go. Most times of the year she doesn’t know I exist. But in Midsummer she calls us all.” I shrugged. “I don’t have a choice.”

“And you don’t remember anything?” Otsoa asked again.

“Just bits and pieces. Flashes of images and feelings.” I bit my lower lip. “Why, what do you remember?”

“Nothing much, just how it felt.” He shifted in his seat. “Is it always like that? So . . .”

“Exhilarating?” I said. “Intoxicating?” I had thought he would look away, but he met my gaze with his large brown eyes. He felt sorry for me. I just nodded and looked away again.

It was an awkward ride. I knew they had more questions, but I didn’t have any answers. They had tasted what the Wild felt like, Otsoa during Midsummer and Josie at her inn when I had lost control, but I was sure they didn’t understand all of what I was up against. It was one thing to desire something, and quite another to be ruled by it.

Chapter Two

What few memories I had of the past two weeks involved open sky and the smell of damp earth and sunlight on my skin. Driving through the narrow stone lanes of Casavera, lined with iron fences and manicured trees, made me feel caged in. The coach turned into a small plaza surrounded by quaint shops with an enormous fountain bubbling at the center. Josie’s inn, the Fonte, stood out, a blocky stone structure among the delicate elven buildings. I breathed easier when we stopped into the cool dim foyer. At least this felt like home.

I followed Josie into the dining room and found my half-brother pacing around like a caged animal. As soon as he saw me, even though I was still wearing Amalia’s face, he rushed over and grabbed me by the shoulders.

“Where is she?” he pleaded, his gray eyes wide with fear.

“Where is who?” I asked, trying to pull out of his grip. His fingertips were digging into my shoulders. “It’s me, Glade. I just need to change my face—”

“No,” he growled shaking his head and me at the same time. “I know it’s you. Where’s Ura?”

“Oh.” He didn’t care that I was back. I suppressed a sob. “Oh Glenn, I’m so sorry.”

“Where is she? Did she come back? Did you see her at all?”

“I don’t know. I might have seen her, but I wouldn’t remember.”

He pushed me away, disgusted, the same expression on his face as Josie had in the coach. “She hasn’t done this in two years, and then you show up again and now she’s gone.” He started pacing again.

His words stabbed, though there was no way this was my fault. Changelings could be born of all kinds of Wild folk, and Ura was part sylph. Sylphs, even part ones, were notoriously flighty and disappeared on a breeze, sometimes literally. Being half Nepaea, a nymph of the valleys, I was more grounded and likely to return to a place I was attached to. It was a miracle Ura had cared enough about Glenn to stick around for two years. I had never stayed through Midsummer.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled.

“Sorry won’t bring her back.” His voice was hoarse, and when he swung around to stare at me, I noticed red around his eyes. I had never seen Glenn this unsettled, not even when we’d been battling wizards and Wild creatures both. Now he was unraveling.

“She cares about you, Glenn. She stayed here two years for you. She’ll come back. She probably just needs some time. It wears us out.”

“Where would she go to rest? Can you take me there at least? So I can wait for her?”

“I can try to guess. Really, Glenn, it would be best if you just wait here. I’m sure she’ll be back.”

“But you said she’d be weak. What if she’s hurt, or in trouble? What if . . .”

I finished the thought in my mind. What if they don’t let her come back. Changelings, those that lived in the Wild all year round, were often kept as servants. I had managed to avoid it, I assumed, by not remaining in the forest. Ura was pretty, and sweet, and sylphs are fast messengers. She might have been noticed by something strong, something that would have the energy after the craziness of Midsummer to compel her to stay. I couldn’t tell Glenn that. I didn’t want to give him more to worry about. Sylphs were also quite difficult to catch. If she had even the slightest chance to get away, I was sure she would.

“If she goes anywhere to rest, it will probably be the cove she was born in.” He had stopped pacing, so I moved closer and set my hand on his shoulder. “I really think you should stay here and wait. It won’t be safe for you there.” Glenn and I shared a human father. But his mother was an elf, and he could no more walk safely into the Wild than a nymph could walk out. Changelings could come and go, according to the treaty, for all the good it did us. We were little more than servants in either place.

“Then it won’t be safe for her either. Come with me, help me find her.” His gray eyes pleaded with me, his usually trumpeting voice weak and shaky.

“I can’t Glenn, please.” I wrapped my arms around myself and backed away from him. “I can’t go back there right now.”

“What am I supposed to do? Just sit around here and hope that she’ll remember me?” He threw his hands up. “You never came back. Would you have come back this time if they hadn’t come to get you?”

“I’ve gone back to Cyfar for years now. What difference does it make to you anyway? So what if I had come back to you. You’d just keep me locked up within those walls, just like you did to her.” I stopped myself there, kept from yelling that I was glad she had gotten out and away from that life.

“Glade.” Josie’s voice was not loud, but we had trained under the same bard, and she could speak magic when she chose. That one word felt like a slap. Glenn and I turned to look at her. “Glade, I think you should go rest for now. Glenn, come sit down.” Glenn tried to resist, but between the magic in her voice and the sternness of her eyes, he gave in and took a seat in the chair she offered. She came beside me and took my arm.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“It’s fine. I’ll make sure he eats something and gets some rest, too. But you need to get some more sleep and get back to yourself.” She tugged at my blond hair.

I nodded and slipped away. She headed to the kitchen and Otsoa sat down at the table with Glenn. I didn’t hear what they said, but it sounded like he was agreeing with me that going out after Ura was a bad idea. Glenn was not a Warden, and I could just imagine him getting lost out there looking for something impossible. I spent a few minutes trying to think of some way to help him before sleep came for me.

#

I let myself rest completely in the room Josie gave me. My blond hair and freckled face melted away and I slept heavy and dreamless. When I woke, I took my time crafting my usual disguise, the one everyone in Cyfar thought was my real face, the one they thought of as Glade Balladeer. As I worked the magic, my face became a dark brown, my hair black and straight, the features on my face and the points of my ears softer. I changed back into my familiar, comfortable tunic and slacks. It was like sinking back into an old favorite chair; it just felt right.

When I came downstairs the dining room was quiet, dotted with a few people who were staying at the inn getting their breakfast. I didn’t see Otsoa or Glenn, but I waved to Jose who was just coming out of the kitchen and found an empty linen-covered table away from the other diners. A small vase filled with silk flowers sat in the middle of the table, framed by two honey-colored candles. The only sounds were the whispers of conversation and occasional clinking of silverware or glasses. Taking a deep breath, I smelled warm bread and sharp herbs.

After making a sweep of the room Josie headed for my table. She was short, closer to dwarf height than halfling, and her features were rounder than most dwarves. She had told me when we met that there were halflings on her mother’s side. We had been roommates in the home of our bard-mistress Delvine. A few glasses of her family’s famous Vaster wine later and it felt like we had known each other for ages. So when she took a seat across from me and folded her hands neatly in front of her, I knew I was in trouble.

“Why aren’t you helping your brother?” she asked.

I sighed. “It wouldn’t do any good,” I said. “We’d hunt up and down the coast for her, probably disturbing all kinds of Winter Wild which will start stirring now that Midsummer’s passed, and not find a trace of her. She’s part sylph; it’s not like they leave tracks.”

She didn’t answer. Instead, she tilted her head and stared at me, the way she used to when I tried a new song out in front of her and she knew I hadn’t practiced enough.

“They don’t,” I said. My voice grew higher as I tried to defend my claim. “You can’t track them. Even if we could guess where she would be. I wake up in the most random places afterward.”

Still Josie said nothing.

Finally, I looked down and started fiddling with the silverware. “I can’t go back right now, Josie. I try to stay as far away as I can during this time.”

Josie reached out her hand and set it on mine and squeezed it tight. “You’re afraid you’ll want to stay.”

I nodded. “Yes. Glenn has helped me so much and I want to help him in return, I swear I do. But I can’t risk that, not even for him. Not even for Ura.”

“Do you really think she’ll come back?”

“I don’t know.” I pulled my hand away. “I’ve never stayed, but I have a system. I don’t know if Ura was even expecting to go this year. He managed to protect her for so long.”

“Did he ever try to do that for you?”

My face twisted and I got a sour taste in my mouth. “Yes.” It came out much more bitter than I had wanted. He had been trying to help in his own limited way. He knew I hated being called out there. “It didn’t go well.”

“Is that why you don’t talk to him much?”

“That’s hardly fair. He has his life, I have mine. We get together now and then—”

“When you need help,” she interrupted.

“Look, he’s a priest of Ventor, all right? They were designed to destroy the Wild. It’s painful to visit him. I can only stand it for a few days at a time. And the one time he did try to keep me through Midsummer, he had to chain me in the cellar. I still managed to make the roots of some tree nearby break through the walls and freed myself. Nearly got him thrown out of the order.”

Josie sat back as though I had slapped her. Her mouth gaped open and her eyes went wide. “Oh, Glade, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault. It’s not his fault. This is what I am. And it’s best for everyone if I keep to myself as much as possible.”

“You don’t have a choice about it now,” she said. She closed her mouth and set her jaw. “You are connected to Otsoa whether you like it or not. So you can’t just keep to yourself anymore.”

“Right.” I picked at the tablecloth. I owed to her, and I owed it to the Lady to be more careful with this responsibility. The shame of not being there for them landed like a cold stone in my stomach. “Where is he, anyway?”

“He went with Glenn to see if there was anyone who would help them look for Ura.”

“Oh, sure, a Warden would love to get sent on a hunt for a sylph Changeling.”

“He thought maybe Roya would know someone. They went to message him.”

That was a good move. If anyone would know who to hire for this sort of thing, it would be Roya. He had figured out that I was hiding my Wild nature and had hired Otsoa and me for the sort of jobs no other Warden would touch.

“Thanks for letting me stay here last night,” I said after a long pause. “You didn’t have to do that. I can pay for the room.”

“Shut up,” Josie said. “You never have to pay to stay here, or eat here, or any of that. Just do me a favor and figure out this thing with Otsoa, all right? Or we’re going to have to build a pen for him out back.”

“Well, at least then you could sell tickets. I doubt many in Casavera have seen a jaguar before.”

“Sure, and we can end each show with you dropping your illusion and whipping the crowd into a frenzied dance. We’d sell out every night.” It was good to see her smile, even if it was a tired one.

“How’s your mom?”

“Doing well. They decided to go ahead and retire by the sea there. That’s how I got the additional inn.”

“Oh right. What’s it called? Where is it?”

“It’s up in Cyfar. The Branch and Vine. They do a lot of wine tastings and such. Still trying to get the hang of that.” She lit up when she talked about it. I had worried when she left her bardic studies that she’d feel trapped working like this, but she seemed to be finding things to stay interested in.

“I’m sure it’s going to be a huge success, just like this place.”

Otsoa arrived then, without my brother, and joined us at the table. He tapped his fingers a few times, and I could see him calculating something behind his eyes. I’d known a lot of wizards, most of them cautious bookish sorts who did their tours at the towers out of duty and headed home as soon as possible. Otsoa was careful, most of the time. Now and then though, he would get this look in his dark eyes like he was searching through every possibility for the best one. Or the most exciting one.

“We got a message through to Roya. He seemed pleased that we got in touch with him,” Otsoa said.

“Pleased? I should think he wouldn’t want to be bothered. Unless he has a job for us.” I groaned.

“Precisely. In exchange for finding someone to look for Ura, he asked that we take care of something for him. He wants us to meet with him tomorrow.”

“Well, that's convenient. Just in time for me to check in to the Branch and Vine. We have some big tasting this weekend.” Josie smiled at us. “Guess we are heading up to Cyfar.”

Chapter Three

I wasn’t sad to leave Casavera. It was quaint, but also snobby, assumed to be better than most other towns east of the Lumina River, even though it was where dishonored elven families came to live. Instead, I looked forward to being back in the bustling, modern, wide streets of Cyfar. The ride north in Josie’s coach was smooth and pleasant, even if I did have to suffer through Josie and Otsoa’s flirting.

Cyfar appeared on the horizon, tall and gleaming white, tiered marble steps draped with silk banners and hanging plants. At each corner a tower of darker stone marked the water screws that kept the canals flowing through the city. There was already a crowd gathering at the city gate, so our coach pulled into line to take our turn passing under the massive marble arches in the wall. Everything moved quickly and efficiently, and in less than thirty minutes we were rolling through the dark underside of Cyfar.

Everything smelly or dirty, involving sweat and hard work, was housed on the bottom level, including the stables. We parked the coach and headed to the closest canal. It would be pricier than the stairs, but it would be faster and easier to get to the upper levels.

“The Branch and Vine is on the fifth level,” Josie said.

“I should probably check in at the Den,” I said. “I know it’s not as posh as your new place, but it’s where I hang my guitar.”

“Are you planning to stay there for the night then? Or should I find you a room?”

“Depends if Jinelle needs me to play tonight. I’ve been away for a bit, she may expect it.” I wasn’t looking forward to playing a long night at the Wyvern’s Den, but it was how I paid for room and board.

“Oh let me come hear you play,” Josie begged. “And I’d love to see the Den. You talk about it so much.”

“You’ll be disappointed, I’m sure.” I looked at Otsoa. “Let her know you’d rather stay in comfort then hunker down with a bunch of retired Wardens.”

“I don’t know. I haven’t slummed it in a while. And we have to be so proper and polite at Josie’s places.” He adopted a formal elvish accent. “Pass the salt, and dab the mouth and all that.” He mimicked picking up a cup and sipping with his pinky up. Josie smacked his hand down.

“It’ll be fun,” Josie said. “We might even stay the night.”

“I wouldn’t subject you to that torture,” I said, rolling my eyes. We loaded into a gondola and headed down the canal. It flowed into a large scoop attached to the water screw at the corner of the city. With a jolt we were swept up to the third level and dumped into another canal that we floated along until we pulled up beside the Wyvern’s Den. The face of the building was made of unshaped dark stones. An old wooden sign swung over the door bearing a weathered red wyvern. The words ‘historic charm in a modern district’ were painted below it.

It was a bustling afternoon in the Den. Jinelle had redecorated again. This time the walls were lined with weapons, potion bottles, backpacks, anything typically carried by a Warden on their tours. The tables were still bare wood planks set on barrels, and it smelled of ale and sweaty leather.

"Glade, you're back!" Jinelle waved to me from behind the bar. "How was your tour?"

"Oh, the usual." I nodded to a few of the regulars seated at the bar, and Otsoa found a free table and pulled a chair out for Josie before settling down.

"Good to hear, good to hear. You're paid ahead through the end of the week, but if you have a night to spare to play, I won't complain."

I tried to calculate how much I had paid before I left. There were always stretches when I couldn't perform, and I tried to keep enough of what I made as a Warden to make up for it. I rarely had enough to cover it all, and I didn't remember having that much this time. But I wasn't going to argue.

"Would tomorrow night be all right? We just got back."

"Of course. You and your friends want dinner?"

“Yes, please.” Everything felt so natural, as though I’d never left. I sighed and turned to join my friends. A woman was hovering around the table, standing a little too close to Otsoa. Josie was glaring up at her, but the woman had her back to me, so I couldn’t tell if she noticed, or was just clueless.

“Are you sure, Master Ocelote, you look so very familiar. I’m sure I’ve met you back in Rheste. Hard to miss such a famed wizard,” I heard the woman say as I inched up behind her. She was doing pretty well or would have been if Otsoa had been a typical human. The beads he wore on the two small braids in his hair bore the marks of the Ocelote family, and it was clear he was a wizard from the wands and pouches he wore at his belt. But he never used his family name, as it had been stripped from him the day he was thrown out of Rheste for using forbidden magic.

“It’s no good, sweetie, you don’t know this wizard,” I said tapping her on the shoulder. “And I suggest you empty out your pockets.” I wasn’t certain she had been picking his pocket, but something in the way she moved and the ease with which she lied gave me a strong suspicion. She turned around to face me very slowly, and I readied to grab her or run after her if she decided to bolt.

“Glade?” she said. The moment I met her hazel eyes, I froze.

“Drinn?” I backed away from her a step. “What are you doing here?”