Page 80 of Blood of the Stars

“That’s an order.” Gaeren took off in the night, not waiting for Riveran’s protest. He couldn’t completely trust Riveran, but he also couldn’t trust Orra, which meant he had to verify her story. He pulled the hood of his cloak up, tight around his face, then headed for the taverns closest to the docks.

As he walked, he recounted in his mind his conversation with Orra, an unpleasant truth dawning on him. Riveran was right. Orra no longer talked about tracing the starbridge’s location; she talked about tracing Daisy. So if Daisy was what the woman was really after, what exactly did she plan to do when she found her?

It took three taverns for Gaeren to get what he needed. After walking through the crowds and tuning in to the memories of dozens of people around him, he honed in on one young stableboy, whose excitement over the events of the week before still lingered in his mind. The boy’s eyes shone as he watched a group of rowdy men sloshing beer and singing ballads, joining in for the parts he knew. Gaeren sidled up to the boy’s table, allowing the crowd to jostle him until their arms brushed.

He apologized but didn’t move his arm, leaning harder as if the crowd forced him off balance. The boy edged away, but in a distracted manner, like he was making room for Gaeren. Their contact didn’t break, and Gaeren tuned in to the boy’s memories, flowing through them in reverse until he hit the points he needed.

Three strangers approaching the blacksmith, leather cords around the one woman’s neck. The boy’s heart rate increasing as he inched forward, knowing this would be a story for his friends. The travelers exchanging coin for a dozen horses, maybe more. The boy hadn’t learned his numbers well. Gaeren couldn’t hold the memory enough to catch details on faces, but the boy remained fixated on the leather cord, hoping for a glimpse of the woman’s starlock. It wasn’t enough for Gaeren to be sure. He needed the boy to think of more details.

“You work for the blacksmith?” Gaeren asked.

The boy jumped, then nodded, his gaze darting around the room as if holding a job was a crime.

“I need three horses. Think your boss is still awake?”

The boy laughed, then tried to cover the action. “’Course. But not likely sober.” He pointed across the room to where a bearded man downed half a glass of ale before belting out the last line of the song, slurring the words.

“Ah, I see.” Gaeren smiled at the boy. “Are you able to help me, then?”

The boy shook his head. “He sold ’em all. That’s why he’s still celebrating.” The boy leaned forward. “The buyer was a progeny, and one of the men with her had webbed fingers. Gave my boss double what they were worth.”

“A progeny? And another with webbed fingers?” Gaeren didn’t have to feign his interest. “Know what they were doing this far from the schools?”

The boy shook his head. “They weren’t students. I guess maybe they could be teachers. They seemed worried though.”

Gaeren tuned in to the memories the boy recalled as he spoke, honing in on the words spoken by the travelers. Despite their blurry faces and the boy’s inability to recall much detail, Gaeren caught one phrase that took his breath away.

“She needs it for Aeliana.”

Gaeren replayed the memory in his head, his grip tightening on the boy’s arm until the boy wrenched free.

“I said let go!” The boy’s cry rang out through the room between songs, and curious gazes turned their way.

“Forgive me,” Gaeren said, half bowing as he backed away. He scanned the crowd, noting Thallahan and Breeve among the revelers. The two sailors stood a little taller, recognizing him as well. The crowd murmured, debating if they could safely return to their normal evening activities, and wary eyes followed Gaeren as he made his exit. How long would it take for someone to recognize him as prince? He stepped out into the night air, which was only a fraction less stuffy than the crowded tavern.

The travelers were with Daisy.

He bent over, hands on his knees. It proved that Orra was right. They’d passed by here, gathered supplies. It was just like Orra had said.

But there was a progeny in their midst. Not half-lights using blood magic. Had Orra been lying or just mistaken about that detail? He reached for his dagger, running his thumb over the daisy. He took a deep breath and let the grooves soothe his fears, as if the dagger’s security was tied to Daisy’s.

The door opened behind Gaeren, and Thallahan and Breeve tumbled out, brows furrowed.

“Captain?” Thallahan asked. “Is everything all right?”

Gaeren shook his head. “I’m not sure. I need to find Larkos, but I think I need to check on Orra first.”

“We can come.” Thallahan’s response was immediate, reassuring. Not the bartering answer of hired help.

“Follow me.” Gaeren took off through the town. Breeve and Thallahan weaved through the streets behind him, guided toward the edge of town by a sudden eerie wail.

“Is that a winex?” Breeve asked, voice hushed.

Gaeren wanted to say yes, but it sounded far too human. When they exited the last alley and found themselves at the edge of town Riveran kneeled over Orra, the woman curled up in a ball.

“What happened?” Gaeren ran the last several feet.

Riveran held up his hands defensively. “Nothing—I mean…I don’t know. Her hands were in the dirt and she just—she let out an awful noise, and she hasn’t moved since.”

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