Page 155 of A Dawn of Gods & Fury

With another laugh, Ezra climbs into his seat and directs the horses forward, into the barn. My nose twitches with the potent smell of hay and farm animals.

“The stable hand has left for the night. Wait until the doors are shut before you come out.” Destry pushes past me first, then Tyree, before clambering through the opening as if she can’t get away fast enough.

“And where are you going?” he asks.

“They have good mead here. I will try to bring food for you.”

Try? “Wait!” I collect the clothing Tyree stripped off the dead man and hold it out. “Wash this.” I couldn’t bring myself to put them on.

She looks from the rags to me and back to the rags and then continues without another word.

Tyree’s shoulders shake from his silent laughter.

“I am so glad I entertain you.” I toss them at his face, which only seems to amuse him more.

A gentle hand suddenly appears through the curtain, turned upward. Uda smiles and nods at me as she collects the clothing from Tyree, saying something in her language that I hope means “wash.”

“Thank you.” I flash her a broad smile. “See? Some of these mortals are civilized.”

“She isn’t offering because she serves you. She is offering because you saved her life today. Not all mortals are beneath you.”

I sniff. “But I am of royal descent.” Technically, everyone is beneath me.

“That means nothing here.” Tyree sighs. “Come on, Your Highness. Let’s see this loft we will be spending the night in.”

“I will be spending the night in,” I correct.

“And where will I go?”

“I’m sure there is a pen for the swine somewhere in here.”

His laughter trails me.

Destry’s odd little face appears at the top of the loft ladder. She regards the makeshift pallet of hay and a wool blanket Tyree rooted out of a chest in the tack room below. “You have your soft bed after all.”

“I suppose.” Though it is far from comfortable.

“Where is Ty?”

His nickname sounds odd on her tongue. “I do not know. He went out the back.”

“He is not supposed to go anywhere.” With a deep sigh, she sets a parchment-wrapped package on the floor.

“I was sure you had forgotten about us.” My stomach growls to punctuate my irritation.

“Are all of your kind so ungrateful?”

“No, that’s just the spoiled princess in her,” Tyree calls from below, having returned.

I roll my eyes. “What did you bring?”

“Bread and cheese. It’s all I could take without someone noticing. I also have a jug of mead below. It is not bad. Not as good as Ledric’s ale. Do not burn down the barn.” She nods toward the chamber stick flickering nearby—another find by Tyree, along with a fascinating tiny metal box that ignites a flame when you push a lever—and then she disappears down the ladder. “Where did you get those?”

“From the neighbor’s yard.”

I scramble to the edge of the loft, curious. Tyree has used his tunic as a crude basket, but I can’t see what’s inside. “What are they?”

“Grapes.”

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