Page 183 of A Dawn of Gods & Fury

Annika frowns at me.

Who are we to judge, though? Clearly Destry is running from demons of a sort, but as long as she helps Annika and me escape this place, she can stay inebriated. “Hungry?” We didn’t get the chance to eat before we stuffed ourselves into this coffin.

“Famished.”

I draw the curtain back. The sun is shining—a welcome respite from the dense fog and misery of the last few days, but also an opportunity to see more of this realm we were brought to. The horses plod along a snaking road that cuts through forest, moving downhill. In the distance is a range of jagged mountains that reach beyond the cloud cover.

A dark shadow weaves around one of the pinnacles, earning my shock. “Is that a wyvern?”

Ezra spares me a shrug.

I point ahead and flap my hands, mimicking wings. “A wyvern.”

He follows my focus and then nods as if understanding. “Wroxlik.”

I repeat the word, committing it to memory. He doesn’t seem shocked by it or concerned. “What is it doing there?”

He shakes his head, then juts his chin to Uda, who digs out a loaf of bread and hunk of cheese from her satchel.

“Many thanks.” I wink as I accept it from her, and her cheeks flush with her smile.

Ezra rolls his eyes at his daughter.

“Do not give her too hard a time. She can’t help herself. I am far too appealing to ignore.” They have no idea what I’m saying. “Isn’t that right, Annika? I believe you said that very same thing last night before you climbed onto my—” I grunt from another hard kick to my shin.

“What did you say this place was called again?” Annika peeks out of the curtain, having swapped crate seats with me earlier so she could get air.

Destry pulls herself up off the floor with a stretch. It took the entire trip for her hangover to subside, but she seems more energized now. “Basinholde. Ezra usually spends two or three days here, selling his wares at the market and resting his horses before the steady climb up the other side of the valley. Given our purpose, he will sell what he can this afternoon and evening, and we will leave in the morning.”

We’re certainly somewhere far busier than where we’ve been. The sounds of life—men shouting, babies crying, horses plodding—carry outside.

“Here, let me have a look.”

Annika pouts. “But I like this seat.”

“That’s fine. You don’t have to move.” I tuck in behind her on the crate, my chest pressed against her back as I watch the view. She stiffens but doesn’t pull away. We’ve continued this charade all day, where she pretends nothing happened between us last night. I shamelessly flirt and she studiously ignores, and every time my gaze is somewhere else, I feel hers dissecting me.

The streets of Basinholde are narrow and crowded, lined with shops below and half-timbered homes in the stories above, the windows draped in greenery and blooms. Stables of horses are plentiful.

“It reminds me of Port Street in Cirilea, except without the port. A busker!” Delight fills her voice as she spots the man on the corner, juggling five daggers.

“There is a canal, though.” I point to the narrow passage between buildings.

“That is the Hag’nin. It feeds from the mountains and flows through the city,” Destry explains. “You can hire a skiff. People say it is romantic.”

I stifle my chuckle at her apathetic manner.

Above the busker is a balcony where half-dressed men and women showcase their bodies, waiting for clients. “And there are brothels.”

“Lucky for you,” Annika murmurs.

I lean in to whisper in her ear, “How much longer must we play this game?”

To that, she says nothing.

“There are numerous inns and other establishments,” Destry says, sounding every bit a guide for visitors. “Basinholde is one of the busiest hubs in Udrel. Many roads to different corners of the realm pass through here.”

I catch the clanging of metal boots and pull Annika back from the curtain, letting it fall. A moment later, soldiers bark orders nearby. “Is this a good idea, being in a place so busy and crawling with guards?”

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