Page 32 of The Last Heir of Elsewhere

The village was small and run down, hardly different from the many that we’d visited in the days between escaping the castle and staying in the thieves’ den. There was only one long Main Street, with gray-washed wooden houses on either side, and the occasional fenced in yard where a dog, or a skinny cow was tied to a post.

I walked down the center of the street, the hood of Bael’s cloak pulled low to hide my hair and face, as well as my torn and bloody clothing. I’d appear alone to anyone who bothered to look outside their grimy windows, but in truth, I had two tall guards standing on either side of me.

Bael grinned, seeming to enjoy himself, while Scion stalked behind me, his expression like he was attending a funeral march. I could swear, if I didn’t know they were related, and more importantly, friends, I never would have been able to guess. There was nothing about them that was in any way similar.

Nothing, I supposed, except me.

I came to a halt in front of a house that could only be the local inn. It was taller than the others around it, with a few strong horses in a paddock out front, as if they were waiting for their riders inside the bar.

“Please do not draw attention to yourselves,” I reminded my invisible companions, holding the door open wide enough that the princes could slip in behind me, I stepped into the inn.

Neither prince answered, which I assumed meant they refused to make any promises.

Later, I would reflect that I should have made them swear an oath.

14

LONNIE

THE INN, THE VILLAGE OF FORLORN

Having seen one tavern in Elsewhere, I would bet I’d seen them all.

Like the inns in the capital, the inside was dark and smelled of tobacco and that delicious bread I’d smelled along the road. The long bar took up most of the room, with mismatched tables and chairs covering the remainder of the floor space. In the back corner, a staircase led to what I hoped were rooms for rent.

I made a beeline for the bar, and caught the eye of the thin, green-eyed man pouring ale. I let out a sigh of relief. He was human, perhaps ten years older than my own age of twenty-one, and carried no weapons that I could see. As far as barkeeps went, this male seemed harmless.

“Evening,” the man said gruffly, not looking at me.

“Hello,” I replied, trying to sound friendly.

The man looked up sharply at the sound of my voice. His eyes lingered on my body, then panned up to my face with interest. He smiled with a slightly lecherous gleam in his gaze. “Looking to stay the night?”

“Yes, actually. Do you have any rooms available?”

The man’s grin widened. “Even if I didn’t, I’d kick someone out for you, beautiful.”

Bael took a lurching step toward the bar, and I stepped as hard as I could on his foot. “Thank you. How much?”

I silently prayed that he was not greedy, as I only had a few coins in my pocket. The money I’d intended to bring with us was left in my bag, long lost back at the harbor, and as a rule neither Bael nor Scion carried much money on their person. I supposed, they’d never had to before, when the whole of the country belonged to them.

The barkeep grinned. “Three bronze pieces, and one more for dinner if you’re hungry.”

“I’m starving,” I replied, letting out an honest sigh of gratitude as I passed him the coins.

He nodded to one of the bar stools. “Sit there. I’ll bring you something.”

I paused, my heartbeat quickening. There was no chance I could sit so close if I wanted the princes to stay hidden. I glanced around, and spotted a shadowed table on the far side of the room. “I’ll sit over there if you don’t mind.”

The barman winked. “Don’t feel like talking?”

This time it was Scion who moved so fast, I was nervous the displaced air would be visible. He moved around behind the bartender, grabbed a glass off a shelf, and smashed it on the floor.

I jumped, at the sound, and glared at the prince’s unapologetic smirk behind the bartender’s back. “You’re welcome,” he mouthed.

I shook my head, as the man whipped around, seeing nothing except the broken glass on the floor. “Fuck, did you see that?”

I grimaced. “Must’ve fallen.”

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